#Dreadful your Metal design is so very fine I Want Him

[moonstonecanyon]

(09/09-12/2024.)

INTO EARTH BOILING DYSTOPIA

Metal Man interp/design belongs to @0xkugelblltz . Lyrics are from This Song :)

[scarlettriot]

✨ THE BONDS THAT BIND US • PART ONE ✨

• Pairing: Kirishima X f!Reader (in time)

• Warnings: Talks of Murder and Assassination, Assault, Persecution. Smut will occur later so if you’re under the age of 18 or a blank/ageless blog DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS SERIES! If I missed anything, please let me know!

• Contents: Fantasy Setting, Dragon Kirishima, Chubby Librarian Reader. All characters are aged up to late 20s-early 30s. Part One is told mostly from Bakugo’s POV, Reader is the Librarian he meets.

• A/N: Made myself finish this chapter as a bday gift to myself. I know I have a lot of other chapter fics I really need to wrap up but this has been the only thing living in my head right now. I’ve drawn some inspiration from Yuzuya’s Fantasy series as well but this story is entirely different. If you haven’t checked out their audio series, seriously please do! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of this adventure ♥︎

• Word Count: 3,200ish

The city of Spirefall stood tall on the horizon. To most people it was the shining gem of the entire country. But, to Katsuki, the place filled him to dread and anger as it loomed before them. He really didn’t want to get any closer, that was why he insisted on camping a few miles out, where they still had the forest for cover.

“I still don’t like this,” The Dragon Kin Prince grumbled his opinion for the umpteenth time since they woke up less than an hour ago. Most of his breakfast was still sizzling on his plate, untouched since he had no desire to take even a single bite.

“Yeah, but, we don’t have a better plan either.” Izuku brought up, “The library is at the city center. I’m certain they’ll have some useful information for us there.”

“Your stupid library didn’t…” Katsuki quipped right back.

Izuku just narrowed his eyes at one of his oldest friends. “My very small and woefully short supplied library doesn’t hold records and journals from ages past.” He had to remind the heir yet again.

From the time he was able to read, Izuku adored going to the small little library that was established just on the outskirts of his town. He’d go with his mother and come back with piles and piles of books and then go back the next day to do it all over again. As soon as he was old enough to seek an apprenticeship there, he had, and now he’d worked up to being a senior librarian, one of the highest titles someone could achieve.

“But, why couldn’t we have just put in a request to have the books sent to us like we have before!”

“Haven’t we been over this like 10 times since last night!”

The group looked over towards the irritable metallic dragon, lounging while he finished his second helping of food. The remark caused him to be whacked by a faded black to crimson wing belonging to the dragon he called brother.

“What Ei! You know I’m right!”

Eijiro shook his head and explained to the Prince, “You know how long it took us to walk here. It would’ve taken them twice that time to get the texts to us, and even then, we can only request so many at a time. We’ve been looking for the Opals for so damn long now. Just go into the city, hope to the Ancients they have some knowledge we don’t, and then get out.”

Even with all of the logic they placed in front of him, Prince Katsuki still hated going to the city that was responsible for slaughtering so many dragons, so many dragonkin too. He was just supposed to walk into their immaculate city and act like they weren’t a lot of murderers?

It’ll be fine, Katsuki.

Eijiro sent the words through their bond just for him to hear. It’d been a trick they could do ever since they took the oath and had their skin marked at the ages of 18. Beautiful swirls and designs in ink marked the journey they’ve taken together so far. It linked them to each other, a sworn promise to always protect and stand beside the other.

Mental communication wasn’t the only benefit to the marks though. They could also sense the other’s emotions, feel what they were feeling even when they were miles apart. And if they were miles apart, lost on their own, the bond always would lead them back to each other. So long as the other lived, they’d be tied together.

“Fine. C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

He cast his plate of food aside and pretended not to notice when Tetsu’s silver claws snatched it right up. Izuku shoveled the last of his breakfast into his mouth while gathering up his pack because Katsuki was already heading out of the glen, and Izuku would be left behind if he didn’t get a move on.

“What kind of city doesn’t allow weapons?” Katsuki grumbled as they walked past the checkpoint. He felt naked without his swords at his side. Luckily, if they really needed it, he could still use hand to hand or magic but that really wasn’t allowed here either.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but the center of Spire has always been this way.” Izuku couldn’t go on too long of a history lesson because he knew the Prince would merely tune him out. “Out in the residential areas, people are allowed to use them with restrictions to protect their property but within the center, the city guards are expected to protect the market and the people here.”

“You mean those guards?”

Izuku looked off in the direction of the blonde’s scowl. Two guards were at the mouth of an alley, playing a dice game on a stack of crates, not paying a single bit of attention to what was going on around them.

All Izuku could do was shake his head and nudge Katsuki in the right direction. “Let’s just go, the library is this way.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the city itself wasn’t bad. There were people selling food out of small stalls and he knew the dragon’s would be losing their minds if they were here, visiting each and every one of them. But, there were plenty of other shops around too, ones for reagents and gear, metal working, some jewelers, and so many clothing stores that he lost count!

Still, that bead of hate in his chest remained… a city that took so much from his people thrived this much and that made him feel ill.

Before he knew it though, they were walking up a massive set of marble stairs and through grand doors with golden swirled inlays. “So, where the hell do we start?”

“Well, the books written about the Opals themselves would probably be just in your generic information sections–”

“Yeah, but, we don’t need the generic shit. We got plenty of that information already.”

Izuku just rolled his eyes and went on. “Which is why I believe we should start in the lower levels where the personal records are stored.” He tapped his own notebook where he’d been gathering information about travelers and researchers who might have spotted them. “We’ve got a couple names, with any luck, a few of their journals might’ve found their way here.”

“Great, let's hurry it up.”

Together the two of them headed straight for the stairs only to be stopped before they could actually reach them. “Excuse me,” A woman grabbed their attention, “I’m sorry but you’re not able to go into the archives without an appointment and prior authorization from a senior librarian. Do you have an appointment?”

Katsuki went to open his mouth but Izuku spoke first. “We don’t but I do have this.” He pulled out his own credentials and hoped they’d do the trick.

“Oh, you’re from a sister branch! And not a close one either.”

He chuckled softly. “No, not close at all. I wasn’t aware you needed to make appointments at the main branch.”

“It’s just because we tend to get busy and sometimes we don’t have enough staff to escort people.” She looked around, “But, since it’s a slow day, I’m happy to help a fellow senior!” She led the way, beckoning them both to follow her down.

“So, what exactly are the two of you looking for? I assume it’s something specific since you’ve traveled such a long way.”

“We’re looking for information on some dragons.” Izuku answered bluntly.

There were quite a few different ways this stranger could’ve reacted but, considering the city they were in, neither Izuku or Katsuki expected her to spin around with narrowed brows and question, “Why?”

“None of your damn business.” Katsuki retorted. “We need information on the Opal Clan. Do you got it or not?”

Her arms folded in front of her and Izuku almost took a step back. “I asked, ‘why’. Tell me and I’ll let you know what, if any, information I possess.”

Katsuki could feel his blood beginning to boil and he started pushing up his sleeves before he thought better of it. He had another remark ready to go, right on the tip of his tongue, when the woman turned back around with a curt, “fine,” and led the pair further into the belly of the library.

Both men quickly realized they wouldn’t have gotten far at all with this woman’s help anyway. This library had far more security measures than Izuku’s. Magic in place around every corner.

It was quiet as she used a wand to dispel charms and wards to get them where they needed to go but finally, they reached a room that only bathed itself in light upon entering it. “Hopefully we can find what you need in here.”

The Prince’s eyes were bleary from looking at so many journals and scrolls. He swore the dark ink on well worn pages was blurring together even though the librarian and Izuku seemed to be having no trouble at all keeping on.

“Your glasses are in my bag.” Izuku gently reminded him after noticing the way he pushed the heel of his palm further into his eye socket. But, he merely grumbled something about not needing them and held up yet another journal.

He didn’t get very far though before the scratching of quill to paper had his eyes glancing up at the librarian. She’d been busy like this since they’d told her exactly what they were looking for. He still couldn’t figure out what made her change her mind but he wasn’t about to complain. Not when she’d laid out a handful of nesting locations they could check as well as drew them maps detailing how to get to each of them.

“How do you know all about this stuff?” He asked after watching her outline a mountain range.

“I read.” Her answers had been short ever since he’d snapped at her and if he was being honest, he was getting more than a little sick of it.

“Were the dragon’s your area of study to get your senior title?” She nodded her head when Izuku asked. “I see. Mine covered the various sources of magic.”

“So, I’m assuming you did a fair amount of draconic research too.”

“I did.” Izuku smiled broadly. “Obviously not as detailed as you. I just know where a few clans can typically be found but the magic they possess I’m pretty well versed in.”

The two went back and forth. Sharing little bits of information they’d gathered over their years of study. Katsuki sat back and observed. Learned what personal details she let slip about herself.

She’s never left the city of Spirefall, she was raised in the library, everything she’s learned has been from the books and people who drop them off. Woman must’ve been like a damn sponge to retain this much information… even more so than Izuku himself.

He let Izuku do damn near all the talking with her but, eventually, he couldn’t keep the singular question in any longer. “Why?” He breathed.

“Pardon?”

“Why?” This time it had a little more acid to it. “Spirefall… this place you call home, is responsible for so much murder and destruction of dragon kind. So, why study them? Why do you care? Are you feeding information to the hunters? Because we’re not them! We’re not gonna take this information and–”

“Kacchan!” Izuku finally cut him off, “I’m so sorry–”

The librarian just held up a hand. “If I thought you were going to do anything to harm the dragons, I wouldn’t have allowed you down here in the first place.”

“So, you’re just that trusting then, huh?”

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head up then glanced at his arm that was still covered. “I saw what you’re hiding under that sleeve. I’ve never seen one in person but I’ve seen plenty of drawings to know what a life bond looks like when I see one. Your intent must be pure or you wouldn’t have it in the first place.” Her eyes met his then, “you were also smart enough not to bring them into the city with you. That alone shows me how much you care and it is why you’re here rather than thrown out on your ass.”

Izuku’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing trying to figure out something he could say to calm what he was sure would be an irate Katsuki but the blonde was just as stupefied. His friends were the only people able to get away with speaking to him so candidly and even then they usually got an earful but right now, Katsuki was stunned silent.

“I suppose just because you are friends with a librarian doesn’t mean you understand what it means to actually be one, so, allow me to explain it clearly for you: We uphold history and truth, we are protectors of knowledge, and always seek to learn more and expand what we already know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper even though there was no one else in the room to hear her words. “We keep history that certain Emperors would see destroyed if it ever saw the light of day. We are few though, our voices are silenced if we ever try sharing what we know. So, we keep history safe, until there is a day when the truth will actually be heard and believed rather than dismissed by small minded men filled with generations of hate.”

Katsuki didn’t know what to say. Words were trapped in his throat.

“Does that mean proof of the rogue dragon faction really does exist?” Izuku asked just as quietly. “If it does, dragon kind could be exonerated of all these horrible accusations. The Obsidians would no longer be blamed for the slaughter of the original royal–”

“It wouldn’t matter.” Katsuki said quietly when he found his voice again.

“What?! It would prove their innocence. They could fly without fear!”

“Keep your damn voice down.” He hissed and smacked the back of his friend's head. “You know as well as I do the dragon’s tried clearing themselves ages ago when the assassination first happened and plenty of people and places believed them. There are cities and nations where they’re safe. Just not within the lands the Flame Emperor rules… He built his empire on rage and it runs on revenge. It’s rooted so deep that he’d rather destroy proof of innocence than admit he was wrong.”

The librarian nodded her head and Katsuki understood then that she too knew what it was like to live with a truth that no one wanted to hear let alone believe.

“It’s safe here though, yes? Whatever this proof is?” He asked her.

For the first time, she gave him a small smile, “I never said it was here but, yes, it’s safe.”

Katsuki thought a lot about that librarian even after they’d left the city with Izuku’s bag now teeming with new information.

He was quiet the whole way back to camp wondering how many people have tried getting information about the dragons and how many of them she kicked out on their asses, as she so kindly put it. He still didn’t really trust her and he hated Spirefall and the Emperor who called it home. But, it was refreshing to know there was at least someone they could turn to in the city if needed.

She welcomed them back any time, so long as their dragon comrades never stepped foot in the city, and he assured her that would never happen. And, technically, it hadn’t.

When he’d returned to the city later that night in hopes of gaining more information regarding some other clans Katsuki never expected he’d find you cornered by a group of hunters. Just outside the library, belongings scattered on the floor while they pulled and tore at your clothing, not a guard in sight, big surprise.

Having his sword would’ve been ideal but he’d been in a brawl or two, and he had no trouble showing these useless skin sacks what sparring with dragons on a regular basis taught him.

He had one by the hood of his cloak, yanking him backwards hard and fast, tripping him to the ground and elbowing his brow before he could stand back up. One of his comrades turned but Katsuki ducked low and simply flipped them over his shoulder and stomped on their chest for good measure, grabbing your arm before the third fully realized what the hell was going on. Of course, when they did, they only screamed for the guards who suddenly came running.

“Why the hells are they chasing us! You were the one getting attacked!”

“Hunters are basically honorary guards here. They’re well respected. It’ll be my word against theirs and mine will lose!” She explained while running alongside him, “You need to leave before you’re captured.”

He felt her try and pull away but his grip was too strong as he pulled her along. “What will happen to you?”

“Don’t worry about that!”

That answer wasn’t good enough for Katsuki though.

The fire was still going but everyone else at camp was calming down for the night, Eijiro included. He’d been laying out his bed roll when the baby hairs on the back of his neck rose and he felt a wave of panic throughout his whole body.

“It’s Kacchan, isn’t it?” Izuku noticed the redhead go deathly still.

“He’s in trouble… everyone needs to get in the forest, now, I’m going after him!” He was already yanking his shirt over his head.

“Eijiro! Let one of us go!”

“You won’t get there fast enough!” And neither would he unless he transformed.

Any plan would’ve been smarter than him transforming and flying to the city that would have him killed on sight. Even Tet or Mina would’ve stood a better chance but they wouldn’t be able to locate Katsuki like he could. He couldn’t risk it.

He let his wings unfurl and shook the trees around him as he took off, sailing low for the time being and trusting Katsuki would find a way to get to his location. The water was calm and he was thankful no one was on it. He waited silently until he heard explosions and yelling from the city above and then he shot himself upward just as Katsuki flung himself over the cliffside with someone he didn’t know. He felt them both land and then took off faster than he’d ever flown as projectiles were hurled at them.

Katsuki let his own magic fly along with colorful swears and he felt the other body clinging to his spines for dear life. But less than a minute later, they were well out of range. Out of sight too. Safe for now.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed part one! If you want to be tagged in future updates comment below. You must have your age in your profile to be added to the tag list! Thank you ♥︎♥︎♥︎

[fluorescentvermin]

Chapter 9

Reclaimed Factory - Charlie

With our tummies full of delicious food, we continued our way to Gage’s place. The cold night air was chilling me, I hoped that our walk wouldn’t be much longer. Surely Gage was just as cold as me, he was wearing a sleeveless shirt. His arms were covered in tattoos of different colours. He had a tattoo of a snake, a heart with an arrow, a police car that was on fire, a security camera, amongst other cool designs. Where did he get these from? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tattoo studio. Maybe I just haven’t been looking.

“Are you still in pain from last night?” Gage asked, scanning over me quickly.

“A little bit. I’m fine mostly. My head and ribs feel a bit tender” I wince, poking my ribs to double check.

“We have an in-house doctor at my place. Their name is Artemis. They can look you over and give you some medicine, if you’d like?”

“That sounds great actually”

“Fantastic! Bit of a warning though, Artemis is tall and super broad. They might look a little scary, but they’re a big softie”

“Okay. Noted” I nodded.

Shortly after, Gage stops in front of what looked like an abandoned factory. It had boarded up windows and the outside was littered in graffiti and posters. The only sign of life was a faint glow peeking out through the wooden boards.

"This is it! It's more homey on the inside, I promise" he smiled at me.

"Here? No. No, that's an abandoned building. Surely, you're not serious" I wager.

"It used to be. We keep it looking like this to avoid cops and other assholes"

“So, are you or are you not a squatter?” I joke half-heartedly. I wanted to lighten the mood, but I was worried about this place.

“You’re still going on about the squatter thing?” Gage laughed and rolled his eyes.

“The look of this place isn’t very convincing to your argument” I mutter. Suddenly, sounds of laughter erupted from the building.

“How’s that for timing?” Gage nudged. He walked towards the front double doors of the building, and I followed him begrudgingly. I approached slowly and analyse the windows. They're boarded up but the wooden planks don't completely cover the glass. It would let some sunshine in, but it wouldn’t be enough to fully brighten a room. I tried to peak in through the parts of the window that weren't covered. Sadly, I couldn't make out anything. This is it, be ready for anything, Charlie. Don't even go in unless you're sure it'll be safe.

I take a deep breath to try and calm my nerves. Against my better judgement, I make it to the entrance.

Gage is holding open the door, enough for me to look inside. He wasn't lying, this place looked homey. This place had charm. Old, mismatched rugs sprawled out over the metal floor, and the entrance opened into a living room of sorts. There was a couch made from canvas material I think, a table that looked like it was made from a pallet, and there were a group of people sitting around laughing and chatting. Maybe this won't be so bad, after all, why would anything suspicious happen in a place filled with laughter? I can only assume anyway. So, I walk in. Gage closed the door behind me, and I took careful notice to see if he would lock it. He took his hand off the door and walked away from it, leaving it unlocked. I can't get my hopes up yet. I don't know these people; I don't know what they're capable of.

"I see why you guys didn't want to go to the bar" Gage chuckled, approaching the people drinking.

"Gage! Apollo was just telling us about his awful hookup last night" a woman with red coloured dreads responded.

"Go on" Gage eagerly walked over and took a seat in the conversational area.

The feeling of this factory was nice. It was toasty with sounds of a distant fireplace crackling and warm light eliminating from lit candles. I decided to gingerly approach them as they chattered. I took a seat next to Gage and listened in.

"This guy was disgusting! I know it's hard sometimes for us to find running water, but it was like he didn't even put in any effort to clean himself" I'm assuming, Apollo, recalled.

With a closer look, I was able to recognize how eccentric and varied Gage's friends looked. Quite a few of them had colourful hair, but they weren't wearing the same punkish outfits like the others I had seen at the bar. A short slender woman with choppy lilac hair was wearing many things layers of comfortable looking clothes and the taller woman sitting next to had grass green hair, wearing gumboots and a dress over a turtleneck sweater.

"Hold on, who is this? Oh my goodness! Your clothes!" The woman with the green hair noticed me, concern riddling her face. Wait, did she have stubble?

"You're all dirty! You poor thing! Are you okay?" The girl with the lilac hair cooed.

I guess I hadn't thought about whether I was okay. Today had been a whirlwind. I've been cold, yelled at, lost amongst maze like streets. Just thinking about it caused a lump in my throat. I tried to answer, but tears welled in my eyes.

"I... Um" I started, but I felt the sobs crawl out of my chest.

"Oh honey!" The green haired woman rushed over, sitting next to me and putting a hand on my back.

"N-no! I'm not okay!" I stuttered through my cries. The woman with the lilac hair came over as well, pushing Gage out of the way just to rub my arm.

"What happened, sweetie?" The green haired woman continued.

"My wife kicked me out of the house and I tried to find a hotel but they wouldn't let me stay because of my stupid credit score and then I got mugged and beaten up! I don't have anything! They took my phone, my wallet, my laptop. I couldn't even find a bathroom! I had to piss in the street like an animal" I blubbered frantically. It all just bubbled out of me, I couldn't control my sad rambling.

“Is that dried blood in your hair?” The girl with the lilac hair carefully inspected my tangled hair. These two were being touchy, but it was nice to have some comfort while fat tears rolled down my cheeks.

“We’ll take you to Arty. They’ll look after you” The green hair woman insisted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up!” The lilac haired girl added.

The two of them held me as they escorted me through the living room and up the stairs, rubbing my back as I let the tears flow.

We made it up the flight of stairs. I was already out of breath by the second floor, but the women assured me there was only one more floor to go. When we finally made it, they lead me down the hallway to what looked like an examination room. Inside looked sterile with clean white walls and linoleum flooring. There was no one here except for us three, but the two women let me sit on the examination bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ll go get Arty” The lilac haired girl announced before she left the room.

“What’s your name, hon? I’m Percy. That was Nova” The green haired woman, Percy, introduced.

“My names Charlie” I squeaked. Tears still flowing.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Charlie. Don’t worry, we’ll look after you” Percy declared with a warm smile.

“Thank you”

“Your wife kicked you out of the house? That’s terrible! I’m really sorry that happened”

“I-I don’t know why. I just came home, and I couldn’t open the door. We had an argument in the hallway, and it was really embarrassing”

“I can’t believe someone would do that!”

“Tell me about it” I roll my eyes. I was able to calm down a bit, but I still felt the gravity of sadness in my stomach.

The door opened and the girl with the lilac hair, Nova, came in, followed by a tall person with wide shoulders. They barely fit through the door.

“Were you sleeping Arty? Sorry to drag you out of bed” Percy cooed.

“I was just doing some reading, it’s no problem, my child” was this Artemis? Arty? This person matched the description that Gage gave me.

“This is-“ Nova started, looking at myself and Percy.

“Charlie” Percy let out.

“Charlie! They were beaten up. Would you be able to take a look at them, Arty?” Nova continued.

“Of course. I will have to ask you two for some privacy” Artemis looked at the girls. They both nodded and made their way out of the room.

“We’ll be right here!” Nova announced. They closed the door behind them, and tension grew as I remembered the strange situation I was in.

“Before we start, I feel it’s only polite I introduce myself. My name is Artemis, and I use they/them pronouns. What are yours?” they introduced themselves, sitting on a stool with wheels.

“I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you. My pronouns are he/him” I responded with a shrug. It will be nice to meet them if they actually patch me up.                                                                     

“Now, can you tell me where you feel the most pain?”

“I know I have an open wound on the back of my head. It should have healed at least a little by now. I’m not really in too much pain right now, but my ribs, neck and shins feel tender” I explain, pointing to each spot.

“The wound on the back of your head should be easy to fix, but I’d like to take some X-rays so I can see if your bones were affected. You were able to make it here, so I doubt there are any broken bones” they explained, looking at the back of my head where the split was.

“Are you going to steal my organs?” I blurt out.

“No, Charlie” they smiled.

Artemis took some X-rays and looked them over. They say that I’m lucky, and that my bones are fine. They took me back to the examination bed and cleaned my wound before giving me a local anaesthetic and sewing my skin back together. Artemis carefully dressed my wound and gave me some painkillers. The rest of my injuries were all bruises, and they instructed me on how to look after them. After they were finished, there was a knock at the door. Artemis called out, telling the person to come in.

“How are you feeling?” Percy asked, stepping into the room with Nova behind her.

“Still hurts but the medication helps” I let out. Even though it all went smoothly, I still felt uneasy.

“You should try to sleep on your side or your stomach if you can. The wound will be tender for a couple of days” Artemis instructed.

“Did you want to have a shower?” Nova asked.

“Excellent idea. We’ll happily launder your clothes for you in the meantime” Artemis offers.

“Thank you” A nice hot shower sounds so great right now. I feel slimy.

“We’ll show you where they are! We’ve got spare clothes that you can change into” Nova added.

We headed off, through this reclaimed factory that felt more like a makeshift home than an abandoned building. The walls of this place looked new, at least compared to the cold flooring. When we got to the bathrooms, the girls let me have some privacy after showing me where everything is. The bathrooms felt strange, they looked what I would assume prison bathrooms looked like. Multiple shower stalls and sinks under a gigantic mirror. They were toilet cubicles that were separated from the showers, the mirror and sinks were connected to a freestanding wall that split the room. Did they build this?

I felt calm hearing the sound of running water as I turned the shower on. The water was lovely, warming me from my skin to my bones. I took my time while washing myself, enjoying this peaceful moment of silence.

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[bbyheedeungie]

Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader

Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content

Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?

It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.

You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.

But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.

He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.

And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.

He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.

"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."

You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.

"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.

You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.

You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.

"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.

You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.

"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.

"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.

"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.

You contemplated, biting your lip.

"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.

"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.

"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.

"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.

And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.

This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.

"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."

You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.

"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.

And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.

"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.

"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.

"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?

"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.

"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."

You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.

"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.

"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.

"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.

"Great. People won't suspect a thing."

The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.

What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.

You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.

"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.

"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.

"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.

"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.

"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.

"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.

"I'm S—"

"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.

"I am Y/N's—"

"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.

"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.

"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.

"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.

"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.

You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.

You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.

"What?" You asked.

"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.

He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.

"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.

The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.

It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.

"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.

"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.

"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.

"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.

"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.

"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.

"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.

"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.

"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.

"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.

That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.

"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.

"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.

"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.

And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.

"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.

"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.

"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.

"Then we'll learn together." He promises.

What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.

People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.

"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.

"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.

"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.

That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.

"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.

"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.

"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.

"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.

--

"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.

But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.

"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.

"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.

Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.

Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.

Stunning, beautiful. He thought.

"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.

"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.

"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.

His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.

"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.

"Home?" You suggested.

"Home." He agrees.

As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.

And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.

"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.

Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.

He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.

Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.

This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Assassins

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

 The soft light of the morning dawn slowly filtered into the room through cracks between the lavish curtains. Streaks of light bounded off the polished gold detailing of the rooms furniture and made the room appear as if the very stars themselves had come to adorn themselves upon the walls. So bright were the reflections that it managed to find their way underneath several layers of bed sheets and directly into the face of ambassador Glifin.

Roused from his seemingly peaceful sleep Glifin slowly pushed off the sheets one by one and rolled to his feet. The loud thuds of his hooves touching the floor sent a shudder through the room as he stood and stretched out, his general grogginess slowly shaking off. With a loud yawn finally leaving his throat he rose and shambled over to his desk to begin his day’s work.

Tonight he was hosting a party honoring visiting royalty from his home world on Argon. The prince had decided he wanted to visit this miserable planet he had been stationed on, though why anyone would want to visit this world was beyond him.

Glifin’s posting on the human homeworld had been sold to him as a great honor but in reality it had been a means to keep him from continuing his political rise. On Argon he had been a senator whose mere whisper was enough to make generals and minor nobles quiver in fear. His star struck ascension didn’t go unnoticed however and just before he was to be elected into the office of Artock Supreme and reside over the entire senate the royal family had stepped in and given him the position of ambassador to humanity.

Within the spam of a solar month he was shipped off the throne world and sent to this backwater dump of a world; were he had to smile and feign sincerity to these miserable sacks of flesh all the while his political powerbase slowly began to crumble in the senate.

Now fully consumed by feelings of dread over his situation Glifin did not hear the sudden knock at the door. Only after several more knocks did Glifin look up from his paper work.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Glifin’s aide Jafal walked in and bowed.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this early hour, but Mr. Robinson has arrived with your evening wear for tonight’s event.”

Glifin nodded and shuffled his papers back into his desk and locked it just as a new figure entered the room.

“Say what you want about Argonian fashion, but they do have such a wonderful sense of aesthetics when it comes to room decoration.”

A slim human emerged from the doorway pushing a small cart with a metal rod built in holding up two clothing bags.

“You have a problem with Argonian styles?” Glifin said as he rose to his feet and walked over to Robinson as he pulled out a tiny box device and casually threw it down on the floor. The moment of contact it sprung open and in an instance a large set of mirrors emerged from it giving an impressive view from all sides.

“Oh far be it for me to question ones culture, “ Robinson continued as he opened the first bag and stepped aside for Glifin to see the contents, “but some would consider the amount of dead mammals your people adorn on themselves to be a tad morbid.”

From the corner of his eye Glifin saw Jafal’s face redden from anger but with a motion from his ambassador kept his tongue still.

“I would find it surprising for a human to find anything morbid with the amount of toxins you willingly consume.”

Robinson flashed a brief smile and shrugged. “You do have me there; personally caffeine will most likely be the end of me one day, but we’re not here to talk about my eventual demise.”

“An end that will come much sooner if you continue to waste my time with idle chatter.”

Humanities incessant need for small talk and idle conversation was something Glifin had never come to terms with; and this human fashion designer was by far the worst example he had ever put up with. Part of him viewed it as a challenge to see how long he could endure before snapping the tiny man’s neck, and though such a moment would no doubt bring him great pleasure the other part of him realized that Robinsons work was well regarded among prominent members of society. Not just with other humans, but with other alien dignitaries who had embassies on the human homeworld. It had been surprisingly an ambassador from the Hive that had recommended the human’s services when it was suggested that Glifin update his style to match his new role.

Walking up to the first black bag that Robinson had opened Glifin inspected the wardrobe.

Inside was a finely trimmed suit of Rygonian Leaper fur of a dark blue with a sash of Haponi tongue and a dashing pair of pants metal grey Roller Worm hide.

It was custom in Argonian culture to wear the skin of that which you have killed, thus the outfit before him was a prime example Glifin’s traditions.

“A fine work indeed,” Glifin said as he ran his fingers across the material, feeling the roughness against his skin. “For a human” he finished as he turned and smirked at Robinson.

“With the effort it took to obtain the materials you requested I would say it is nothing less than an example a miracle performed before your very eyes.”

Glifin stopped his examination of the attire and looked at the human. “For a miracle you sound so…displeased with your work.”

Robinson crossed his arms for a moment and pouted as if considering his next words.

“My work is perfection, I can assure you, but a man in my trade is not just meant to listen to the specifications of their client but their intention as well.”

“And your point?” Glifin queried.

After a moment he outstretched his hand and casually gestured to the Argonian clothing. “Is this really the message you want to be sending?”

Glifin looked at the suit again then back at Robinson. “I don’t understand.”

“If you go to the event dressed like this it will send the message that you still value your traditions, but I worry that it shows a disconnect with your current situation; almost as if you are attempting to relive the past.”

“You would appear as an old war hero trapped in past glories that the other guests would acknowledge, but not make to engage in conversation.”

Glifin opened to rebuke the human but stopped himself as he pondered the man’s words. Robinson stepped forward to the other black case. “Now this,” Robinson said as he slowly pulled down the zipper revealing the contents, “this would make you not only the talk of the party, but would make you the talk of the after party all the way back to your homeworld were many people would no doubt be very much interested in your on goings.”

“Each piece has been designed by some of the most dangerous animals on this planet, and in some cases far more ravenous then anything back on your respectable homeworld.”

Robinson went about and pointed out the specific materials used one by one.

“The body is made from a powerful species that inhabits the various swamps and wetlands around the globe with jaws so powerful they could cut you in two with a single bite.”

“Each of the buttons along the coat are the fangs of the most poisonous reptilian creatures on the planet; each one capable of killing a human let alone an Argonia ten times over with a single drop of their venom.”

“Now the pants I am particularly proud of as they are the skin of the deadliest hunter of all the planets seas. They can smell fresh blood from miles away and commonly take on prey twice their size.”

Gliffin heard Robinson go through the list of creatures but his expression remained emotionless.

“Why would these creatures be any more interesting than my own worlds?”

Robinson smiled. “Because everyone from your world already knows about them and have hunted the same creatures for generations. Yet I would be so bold as to wager my humble shop that none of them have ever faced down the black eyed stare of a great white shark, nor wrestled the deadly crocodile demons of the swamps, and most certainly have been quick enough to pluck out the teeth of rattle snakes just as they lunge to strike.”

“Neither have I,” Gliffin said with a hint of disgust in his tone, “and you would make a liar out of me for saying so.”

“My dear ambassador, who but you could say what you do or don’t in your free time?”

Robinson leaned forward and whispered into Gliffin’s ear “I am no doubt sure many of your females would find the idea of a striking Argonian such as yourself sneaking off to go hunting the unknown for sport a rather attractive quality.”

Glifin looked at the new set of clothing and then back at the original set of traditional clothes. He went back and forth for several moments before finally settling his gaze on the traditional garments.

“Take these away.”

_______________________________________

The lights outside Robinson’s humble shop slowly went off one by one as he walked between the displays straightening out garments and folding tossed aside pieces customers had casually put aside when the door rang.

“I’m sorry but we are closed for the night.” Robinson said as he returned behind the counter with a stack of clothes.

The figure slowly approached the counter and took off their hat. Robinson looked up from the register to see the figure was a Rohanan; a species known for its gel like appearance yet could collect random bits and bobs to create a sudo skeleton and present themselves as humanoid.

“That’s alright,” the Rohanan said, “I am here to pay for a set I ordered for a….friend.”

“Then they are most fortunate to have a friend such as you then.”

Robinson’s smiling nature unnerved the Rohanan but nonetheless they placed a small envelope on the table and slid it across. Robinson placed a hand on it and tapped his fingers several times against the contents inside before opening it and spilling the credit chips on to the table.

“Is it satisfactory?” the Rohanan said, their nervousness building as the human finished counting the chips.

“Oh yes indeed; I believe you have paid in full for your order.” With a swipe of his hand the human pushed the chips back into the envelope and sealed it. “Always a pleasure to deal with such an honest and upstanding man such as yourself during such troubling times.”

Robinson leaned in towards the Rohanan, his expression shifting from smiling to one of mild concern. “I heard there was a most unfortunate incident up at the Argonian embassy several nights ago.”

“Several guests including the visiting prince and ambassador himself all died from poisoning.” The Rohanan confirmed.

“How gruesome!” Robinson said as he recoiled in shock and finished putting away the remaining clothes while he talked over his shoulder.

The Rohanan regarded the human for a moment before continuing. “The strangest thing was that the poison was not native to this world, but is most common in the Hagar system under Dovorian rule.”

“A most embarrassing situation I am sure considering the Dovorian and Argonian people despise each other.”

“Indeed; one might wonder how such a toxin came into contact with them.”

Robinson shrugged and turned as he finished placing the final shirt back into the display. “With all of those fangs, bones, and animal skins I would not be surprised if someone grabbed a tooth or two that hadn’t been fully drained of its contents.”

The Rohanan laughed and placed their hat back on their head just as they stopped at the door.

“You were worth every penny, assassin.”

“An assassin you say?” Robinson’s smile returned and he casually waved to the departing customer “You must have me mistaken for someone else, as I am but a simple tailor.”

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always) 

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing  two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

--

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

[lovelytarou]

you make me go uwu

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff, angst

tags: inspired by the song uwu by chevy

a/n: i'm just projecting my izuku feels and me literally going soft whenever i see his chubby face in the manga ang going uwu over it, also i still have a christmas hangover so sorry if you don't celebrate that or not fond of it! hearts, reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 💗

midoriya izuku is a lot of things.

he's one of the best students at UA and was quite known to be a reckless person who never thinks twice about helping someone. his knack for breaking his bones was a testament to that fact.

he's no doubt going to be one of the best pro heroes out there soon, with a big heart, a kind soul, and a courageous spirit.

midoriya izuku is a lot of things and possessing such cute, squishable cheeks is one of them. or more likely, being cute is one of them.

this thought occured to you when he offered to help you in one of the classes you're having trouble with. being at such close proximity made you aware of just how green his eyes are and when the sunlight hits them just right, they look like beautiful gems. or how he always seem to mutter under his breath when he's thinking too hard, or how his right leg would unconsciously shift to you like he wanted to get closer.

but one of the things you noticed the most, is his cheeks while he puffs them out of frustration.

he's gonna give me a heart attack one of these days with how cute he is

incident #1

you were currently at the cafeteria, sitting at a table with the dekusquad (kaminari came up with it, izuku claimed their little group don't have a name) which consists of ochaco, shouto, tenya, and izuku.

everything is going well, the group had already bought their food and are now digging in after a collective, “itadakimasu!”

you just had the most fortunate opportunity to sit in front if izuku, of all people, who is too busy eating.

he paused for a moment to answer iida's question who's beside him and it made his cheeks bloated with the food inside.

you choked on your drink because you just felt your heart swell with how cute he looks. it almost reminded you of a hamster.

shouto who is sitting on your left, gave you a concerned look and offered you his water.

“are you okay, l/n-san?” his question made izuku turn to you both, you felt your cheeks heat up when he looked at you while looking like that.

“i-i'm fine, thanks.” you took the water from him and gulped it down to clear your throat, and cool your nerves.

“you should chew your food properly when eating or else you'll choke!” iida scolded, waving his hands in a chopping motion you all grew to be familiar with.

“s-sorry...” you can't help but scratch at your nape in embarrassment.

incident #2

“midoriya, you're up.” aizawa called one afternoon on another day of training.

the rest of class 1-a stood back while izuku stepped in front. this was another one of aizawa's endurance training and one of the challenges was to beat a bunch of the robots from the entrance exam once again. how he can call this endurance training, you don't know.

“SMAAAAASH!” you heard izuku yell, tearing through what was once a robot and turning it into scraps of metal.

he did this to the other robots and he landed on his feet with a very serious look that instead of making him look intimidating, it actually made him look more adorable.

“he's like an angry bunny–” you cut yourself off with a hand on your mouth as you laughed quietly, another flush blossoming on your cheeks.

“i know right?! look how cute he is, but he's scary when he shows how strong he is like that.” mina added, looking at izuku who's walking towards the both of you now.

you immediately composed yourself when his eyes landed on you.

“y/n! are you okay? your face is all red! are you sick? do you need to go to recovery girl? shall i take you to her? what if you're overheating?! it's so hot out and your hero costume's probably too heavy–” he began to ramble and you can only stare at him with wide eyes as he continued with his wild thoughts.

quickly dismissing him with a hand on his mouth as everyone started to look at the two of you, izuku stared down at it and felt flustered at how soft your hand felt on his lips.

he's practially kissing your palm, do you even register what you're doing to him?!

“shh! i'm fine! it's just...you're so–” you were about to tell him that he's just so damn cute but you were called by aizawa.

“uh, i gotta go! see ya later!” you scrambled away from him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

that was close.

incident #3

“hey, y/n? can i ask you a favor?” you looked up from your phone when izuku approached you on the dorm's common room.

worry is written all over his face as he fumbled with his fingers, thinking about you being too busy even though you're literally on your phone all day.

there he goes again.

before he can overthink more, you smiled at him warmly and stood up from your seat.

“sure, what's up?”

izuku gulped, “well, uh, i was thinking of a gift to give to someone but i, um, don't know if they'll like it? i kinda, um, need your opinion on it, if that's okay?”

he stared at you with big doe eyes and you can't help but swoon when he looks at you like that. of course, how can you say no to that face? he looks like he'd cry any moment if you denied him.

“alright! what gift did you get for this particular someone?” you teased, nudging his side.

he led the two of you to his room, which isn't the first time since it became a usual thing for the two of you to study together there or simply hang out and talk about your problems, about what you did that day, rambling about your favorite heroes...basically this has became your second room. and your's his.

“um, i got them this,” he opened his bedside drawer and pulled out a small box. inside it, he revealed a beautiful necklace with a letter D as a pendant.

“it's for ‘deku’ which sounds kind of cheesy since it's my hero name, but i just thought that if i gave it to them then that means i'm with them wherever they are,” he reached for something inside his shirt, showing you an identical looking necklace with a familiar letter on it.

you don't want to assume things, but whoever is this particular someone that izuku is going to give the necklace to, they sure are one lucky person. not only is he kind, thoughtful, caring, and not to mention cute, but they'd be lucky to have someone like izuku fall for them.

ignoring the sudden pang of hurt in your chest, you forced a smile on your mouth and cooed at him.

“aww, that is so cute, izu! i'm sure they would love that very much. i know i would! if they don't, you can just always give it to me,” you joked, laughing to mask your hurt.

“r-really? you think so?” when you nodded in response, izuku heaved a big sigh of relief, “well, i trust you, y/n. i'm sure they would love this.”

after that, you excused yourself out of his room and proceeded to go to yours. sleep didn't come to you easily that night, thinking about the special someone that izuku was talking about and how much it would hurt once you saw them together.

over the years you spent being his friend, you never thought you would harbor such deep, intense feelings for the green-haired boy. you don't doubt he has great things ahead of him, and because of that, you started to like him for how strong he is and how he continues to be a better hero, and an overall a great person. that awe soon turn to adoration. and before you knew it, you're falling hard for izuku.

last incident

it's christmas, and the day before, aizawa had made all of you draw lots for your secret santas. your heart stopped when you saw izuku's name on the paper you pulled from the bowl.

you didn't think too much of it and decided to give him something all might-related and called it a day, still a little sour over izuku falling for someone else.

when the dreaded day came, everybody was so chaotic and high on their holiday spirits. even bakugou, which they convinced to wear a santa hat and haul the gifts in a bag. although, he still had a big scowl on his face and basically threw the gifts to their designated owners.

“shitty hair!” bakugou barked, pulling out a gift from the bag. kirishima hopped over to where bakugou was sitting and accepted the gift with a big smile on his face.

“whoa, bakugou! you're my secret santa?!” he asked in shock, eyes shining.

“it does says my name there, doesn't it, idiot? now hurry up and open your gift already,” kirishima did just that and bursted into tears when his gift was a crimson riot themed crocs. he thanked bakugou over and over while the latter hid his smile poorly with a cough.

“whatever. dunce face! you're next!” he practically threw kaminari's gift to him which the boy almost failed to catch, earning him a snigger from the explosive boy.

“man, why do you gotta be the santa for christmas? you're cruel!” kaminari pouted, turning around to go back to where he was squished in between sero and mineta.

“you got a problem with that, dunce face?!” he growled, his palms crackling with his quirk. kirishima tried to diffuse his anger.

when everything is calm, bakugou proceeded to dig into the bag for gifts.

“here, you shitty nerd.” he tossed your gift to izuku, you almost yelped a ‘be careful!’ but izuku had great reflexes and caught your gift swiftly. his eyes widened when he read who his secret santa was. your eyes met each other but was abruptly cut off when bakugou called your name.

“y/n! here's yours,” he was oddly calm when handing you your gift, albeit a little bored.

that received a lot of complaints from your other classmates and you can only shake your head while chuckling at their antics.

deciding to get some time for yourself, you went to the balcony for some air and sat down on one of the steps at the entrance.

placing the gift on your lap, you read the tag attached to it. it was wrapped in a simple green wrapper with red ribbon that finished the look.

to: y/n

happy holidays!

from: D

the name made you curious and even if you hated yourself for it, lit a sparkle of hope inside yourself. what if it was him who gave you the gift?

you had no time to dwell much on the thought and opened the gift instead. your breath hitched in your throat as you recognized the familiar box. lifting the lid with shaky hands, you felt your eyes sting as you looked down at your gift.

it was the necklace that izuku showed you before. you were such an idiot for thinking it was for someone special and did not think it was for the secret santa.

you carefully lifted it in your fingers and the light from the inside catched the D attached to it. it was beautiful. izuku's words echoed inside your head.

“i just thought that if i gave it to them then that means i'm with them wherever they are,”

“did you...not like it?” the boy in question appeared beside you and upon noticing your tears on your face, he immediately thought it gave a negative effect.

gasping, you quickly wiped away your tears and shook your head wildly at him.

“izu, no! i-i love it! actually, it's kinda funny...”

“funny?” he tilted his head in confusion, concern still etched onto his face.

“i was sad that you care a lot about someone else to give them this wonderful gift. i didn't realize that you would give something like this...to me,” you laughed through your tears, sniffling a bit.

“why would you think that?” his voice is so soft and genuinely confused that you can't help but feel your heart beat even more, and fall for him harder than you should.

“because,” you think of a way to word your feelings better but instead what came out was, “you're you and i'm...me,”

it was stupid, but with the overflowing emotions you're feeling right now, it's hard to voice your emotions.

izuku huffed, his cheeks puffing up once again because of the action.

“what do you mean by that? i mean, you're the most amazing person i've ever met! and you're always there for me when i'm sad, and happy and-and...whenever i'm with you, i always feel this...this...warmth! it's like, when you come home after a long day and you just felt safe and comforted. or-or when my mom cooks my favorite food it just makes me feel fuzzy inside! it's like when i watch my favorite video of all might over and over again and i never get tired of it,” he sighed after his long speech, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stared at you with determination.

“what i'm getting at is...i care a lot about you, y/n.” he let out in one breath. he stared up at you with big eyes, those damn eyes that never failed to make your heart jump and stomach do flips.

chuckling at yourself, you raised both of your hands and squeezed his cheeks with all your might making him yelp in pain.

“ow! y/n...” he whined.

“sorry, sorry! i've always wanted to do that!” you snorted.

“i care a lot about you, too, izu–” he suddenly kissed the corner of your mouth, making you shut up in shock. he had a smirk on his lips, amused by your reaction.

“i've always wanted to do that,” he threw your words back at you. feeling your whole face heat up, you turned your back towards him and held out your hand holding the necklace.

“whatever! just help me put this on, will you?” you felt his hands take the necklace from your grasp. you shivered when you felt the cold metal touch your skin but it was quickly replaced by his warm hands.

“there.” he mumbled, voice far too close to your ear. before you can thank him, you felt his lips brush your nape where the lock was and squealed from the contact.

the idiot only laughed at this and ushered you to stand up, helping you to your feet.

“let's go back inside, i heard they prepared a lot of food today.”

without thinking, izuku grabbed your hand and led you inside the dorm. you could only let him drag you as you stared at your joined hands, playing with the necklace hanging on your neck before staring back up at izuku who's smiling at you.

he's the best gift that you could ever ask for.

[aka-indulgence]

So I wanna get back to writing but I’m not yet ready to tackle the big stuff or asks just yet and i was recommended to write a oneshot/short thing so.... yet again, conversations with @llamagoddessofficial​ brought an idea to life and I’ve been kinda obsessed with it <u<

----

Space.

Vast, hauntingly beautiful...

lonely.

Even though you’re far from alone on this station- there was a huge crew of humans aboard with you- being on a station always left you with this feeling of... isolation.

You were on lone station, far from the planet whence it was launched, circling the star from a distance. There was no obvious motivation for why you were in one right now- living in space has become commodity, just another way of living. But to say you and the crew were living in space “just because” wasn’t quite the correct answer either... a lot of the people onboard were researches, and you were simply a mechanic on the ship.

You’re distracted a little from looking out the window, at the stars, when you hear a little clank from the outside.

You can’t quite see what’s directly out the station from where you are, so you took a few steps further from the edges of the window and lean a bit into it. You can see a metallic leg, blue sparks from a torch... S4-N5 was out there, his eight legs firmly gripping onto the outside of the station while he was making some kind of superficial repair. As he did, he seemed to notice you, as his “skull” turned to the side, his artificial eyes with “lights” as pupils fixating on you. There was a glare so you couldn’t see him completely... he must’ve caught you in his sensors. You give him a little smile and a wave before he turned away from you to focus on the station.

Yes, humans weren’t the only crew members... there were also robots on this ship. They assisted in managing most of the ship to make sure nothing was falling apart, in order, and generally making the humans; lives much more comfortable, doing things that were deemed too risky for humans to do. They were categorized by intelligence, conveniently titled in three levels, at least on this ship. There were the I-1s, which... to be honest doesn’t seem to be “real” intelligence. They just remember what kind of coffee you like, for example, catering to your tastes, delivering things to your room, the roombas and toasters, those guys. I-2s has a more managing role, controlling the locks, the doors, gases, air, and all the calculating needed to keep the station stable. They have an AI, but they were mostly fixed to their programming.

Then there were the I-3s.... like S4-N5.

Much more intelligent than the other two, they’re mostly mobile, can react to things they didn’t originally have in their programming, do tasks, solves puzzles and problems... advanced learning AIs. Affectionately called “big three” by most people since they’ve become... slightly more common than before, they’re one of the most intelligent AIs created. S4-N5 (who you called “Sans” for short that everyone else picked up- “Es Four En Five” was quite a mouthful to say) was a mobile, mechanic robot. He was made to fix the major fixes in or out the ship, with eight legs to provide grip while he was outside to stop him from floating away, and two arms for all the fixing. He had tools stored in pretty much every part of him, including his legs- another reason why he had so many, er... limbs.

He had a head and upper body that looked strikingly similar to a human’s skeleton- despite having thick “bones” and a very rounded skull. Black “sockets” with lights serving as eyes... and a permanent, wide grin on his face. You’re not even sure why it’s there- but then again why did his upper body part have to look like a skeleton? Maybe it was just a design choice to make him less spider-y but... yeah he still looks like a robotic, spider skeleton.

What did S4-N5 stand for again? “Station something something”-?

“Hey how’s it hanging? you’ve been staring out for a while there. What, trying to tan your face?”

Your lips drop into a lopsided grin at the voice, feeling annoyed before you even see his face.

“Hi... Robert...” you turn around, straining your smile, “Yeah, I was just, thinking...”

“Oh yeah? What about?” You took a few steps back when Robert stepped uncomfortably close to you, leaning back on the window. You know the glass is made to endure but you start to play with your fingers looking at him.

“Oh just... hey, do you remember what ‘S4-N5′ stands for?”

“Ugh... the robot bug thing?” Robert’s “charming” smile turned into a frown at the mention, “Why do you wanna know?”

“I was just wondering because I saw him, I- nevermind...” guy probably has no idea...

“Those things don’t matter anyways, they’re probably just a bunch of numbers and codes to track which model and version of the robot is..” Robert made a pout with his mouth, looking like he wanted nothing more than to steer the conversation away from Sans.

“Hey do you wanna know what me and the boys did earlier?”

... Riiight back to him.

But that’s hardly just a Robert thing... everyone on the ship doesn’t really like talking about Sans. They seem to barely want to do ANYTHING with Sans. He has a reputation for being the creepiest robot on the ship, almost entirely silent, walking around with his eight legs like a giant spider, with that upper “skeletal” body with the grin that now that you’re thinking about it again may be so he’d look friendlier... instead doing the opposite.

You tune out of him for a while as he regales you with something stupid he did on the ship that has you wondering how he even got assigned to this station when you perk your head at the sound of the air-lock door hissing open, the sounds of metal clinking against metal.

“-and ah fuck, speak of the devil. You talk about him and there he is.”

You turn around and see Sans as the doors close behind him in all his glory. Standing almost at twice your height, a shiny, metallic spider. His legs resembled knives, sharp with pointed joints, dividing a leg into three parts. His plated “abdomen”, equipped with machinery, energy storage, and a compartment for supplies suspended above the legs, holding up his torso.

You knew those legs are for mobility, grip, and tools, while the abdomen served to keep all of his body parts in check... but even you had to admit his likeness to spiders could be a bit unnerving.

“Ugh, look at that thing...” Robert whispered to you, as if Sans would take offense to whatever he was about to say, “he’s so fucking creepy, c’mon, why don’t we go somewhere else?”

He looked like he was about to take you by the arm before you jerked away from him.

“Why? He’s just doing his thing, he’s not made to hurt us, just relax!” you hiss at him. You knew Sans could be pretty creepy to some people, but he’s just being childish right now.

“Are we looking at the same thing? I- look, now it’s staring at us,”

You took a glance behind and sure enough, Sans was facing you, with only his head turned to you. You saw how his “pupils” focused, fixating on the nearby humans.

Is it just you or did his eyes look.. more intense than usual..?

“Do you see that? It looks like it’d fucking kill you in your sleep, don’t go out the ship with it (Y/n), it’d probably snip your tether, sadistic fuck.”

“What is wrong with you? He’s just doing his job can you just leave him alone?” You knew Sans was an AI but... it just felt wrong to be talking about him that way in front of him.

“What, because he’ll listen to me?” Robert scoffed, before his definite scowl turned into something less confident. “... actually yeah I don’t like that, so come on let’s go get some food or something.”

“You can go ahead and do that, I...” think of something think of something, “... need to go to the supply room for a moment. I think I’ve got something to fix and I’d rather finish it now rather than later.”

You walk on ahead without letting Robert reply, hearing his slightly distressed sounds of frustration.

“I- ok fine, I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

You hold your sigh until you get into the supply room, for once wishing you had a task to do as you look at your E-Pad.

One lose pipe at Section 8... least priority... what’s is it I need...

You don’t really have to do it, it’s hardly a human-specific maintenance job, but you didn’t want to just be hanging around outside while you wait for Robert to clear out of the cafeteria, because you’re starting to feel peckish.

Your mind goes a bit blank, staring at some spare pipes in front of you. You pick them up with no real intention in your mind, your mind just throwing around the word ‘pipe’ in your head and your hand just grabbed the nearest thing related. It was mostly quiet in the room, aside from the sound of air flowing out of the ventilation system and providing white noise in the background. You completely lose track of what you’re doing, just killing time in the most useless ways possible when...

Clink. Clink.

You hear... Sans’ legs clanking around outside. Something about the sound makes you go still, gripping tighter onto a pipe that just so happened to be in your hand. It was slow, deliberate movements... your heart rate quickened. Something about that quiet noise, sounding so loud when the room was so quiet felt you with this primal dread. You could hear your heart beating in your ears.

He was approaching the door...

Why were those legs so chillingly horrifying to you sometimes?

... No no, it’s ok he’s just... walking by...

The clanging stopped right outside the door while you bore holes into the pipe with your stare. keenly aware of Sans’ movements.

...

The hissing of the sealed doors opening almost makes you jump out of your skin, goosebumps suddenly breaking everywhere all over your skin as you make the mental note that: Sans opened the door.

As he steps inside, those quiet, tapping noises... you shake off your discomfort, ignoring the uncomfortable chill climbing up your spine the closer he sounds.

You said it yourself earlier. He’s harmless, he’s just doing his job... probably needs to take something. You’re in the supply room, remember? He may be a robot but treating him like he’s a monster just didn’t sit right with you when his sole purpose is to keep the ship intact.

You mess around with the pipes some more, trying to make it look like you’re busy gathering supplies, or something. He’s probably come to get supplies himself, he always resupplies the spares in his abdomen for future fixes before going to neutral mode.

You hear his movement doesn’t stop, every step he makes sounds like a whole second, and he keeps coming closer and closer and closer... until he’s directly behind you.

You sweat a little, the proximity making you a bit nervous, feeling like you’re being scrutinized.

He’s completely silent, and the silence stretches on longer than you’d think... what’s he doing? His shadow fell over you, unmoving, stationary. After a while you couldn’t stand it and turned around to see what he was doing-

Squeaking a little when you saw he had bent down so he was at your eye level, finding yourself face to face with him.

“O-oh hey Sans!” You greeted him cheerfully, though your heart threatened to leap out of your chest just a second earlier.

“Hello, Crew-Member 55.” He tilted his head to the side a bit, like he was confused by your reaction.

“I’m... sorry, you surprised me, I didn’t think you’d be that close. Did you... need anything?”

You’re so close to him that you could hear his eyes as his pupils widened and narrowed, focusing on you, see all his individual “teeth” of his, looking like a big, wide cheshire grin.

“... tool set complete.” He says, one of his automated responses. “It seems that you need something, 55. Do you require assistance?”

You looked at the pipe still clutched into your hand and drop it back into the latch. “I... yeah, actually. There’s a... a loose pipe in section 8, can you help me get the tools I need?”

“...” Sans tilted his body back, and you could hear again the whirring in his eyes as he focuses.

“... no tools required.” he finally says, surprising you a bit. “I can manage it for you, 55. You do not need to fix it.”

“Huh?” You checked your E-pad, and sure enough, the task was labelled as “taken by S4-N5”.

“Oh.. thanks Sans, you didn’t have to do that.” you smile at him, and... was it just you or did his grin widen a bit?

“I’ll uh... leave you to that then...” you slip out from the end of the room he had you cornered in- not going to lie, being trapped by a giant metallic spider didn’t seem very comfortable to you. His head faced you the entire time, his head turning 180 degrees. You almost rushed outside a bit to escape his gaze, but then you stop right at the door.

“Oh Sans, can I ask you a question?”

He’s silent. You take it as a ‘yes’.

“I... haha, sorry I forgot... what does S4-N5 stand for?”

“Station 4, Neurocognitive 5.” He responds as soon as you’re done speaking. “Station 4 refers to the station I am assigned: a star revolving station. Neurocognitive refers to my AI: Cognitive. I don’t have real neurons, however I am named so because I simulate one. Was that clear and concise, 55?”

You stagger a bit, for some reason you had.. human expectations for him? You didn’t think he’d reply you with such a detailed explanation of his name.

... you smile at him.

“Yes it was. Thanks, Sans, I appreciate it.”

“A pleasure, 55. Have a pleasant day.”

Of course, his response was robotic but... he is a robot. And... maybe you’re anthropomorphizing him a little but it sounds like he had emotion saying it.

You come out with a little spring in your step. Guess you’ll just check the cafeteria... if Robert’s there you can just go to your crew room and wait him out there. At least you didn’t have anything to do today.

You hear the sound of Sans shuffling around the supply room, probably getting what he needed to make the maintenance before he shuts the door. You hear him stepping away from you to Section 8. You hear another door open, his metallic legs coming to a halt.

“Oh hey whoah- hey!” You hear Robert’s voice, startled, staggering back to the door. You hear Sans skitter back as well, much faster than you heard him walking earlier.

“Please step away.” His voice, suddenly much colder and robotic sounded. “Please step away.”

You turn around and see Robert grasping the toilet door (guess he hadn’t immediately went to get food), trying to make as much space as he can from Sans, while Sans was pressing himself to the other side of the corridor, his eyes... much sharper than you saw them before. They looked almost.. hostile(?).

“Man I’m trying- move!”

“Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away. Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away.”

Everything becomes static again as you focus on what Sans is saying.

Please be at least 1.5 meters, or 4 feet away.

"This is a safety precaution. Please step away.”

...

You were much, much closer to Sans when he had you trapped in the supply room.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Arrival

You know what? You can blame this part on the lovely @himawari-senpaii​ for not only fueling my dumbass energy, but for also helping me figure out what the cabin should look like and what I’ll be doing in future chapters~

Seriously though, this was SO much fun to write and I was hella thankful for the input! Though I am feeling like a zombie now, so Imma go crash for god knows how long and then when I wake up, I’ll write some more scenarios!

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 “Taishiro, remember when you said the word little to describe your cabin in the mountains?”

 .

 Taishiro hummed in acknowledgement as he filled his arms with the bags that the two of you had brought with you, refusing to let you anywhere near them when you moved to help; leaving you to instead stare with wide eyes and an open mouth at the not-so-little cabin he had told you about yesterday.

 It was more like a large house than a small cabin. Made of stone and brick with windows so large, it left little privacy for the two of you during your visit over the weekend; with no sign of any curtains what-so-ever.

 Even so, you had to admit it was a beautiful building. A modern design hugged closely by the surrounding forest; blanketed in a thick layer of snow that made it seem like a winter wonderland.

 “This is not little…” He chuckled at your mumbled words, now standing beside you with all of the luggage tucked under his large arms; leaving his hands free to get his keys. Searching through his pockets until a light jingle rang out, the sound sourced from his pocket.

 “It is compared to my beach cabin…” You blinked at his comment, staring at the building in front of you before turning your head to stare up at your giant lover; your mouth dropping open in astonishment. It was so easy to forget that he was a mafia boss, right up until the point he showed you his ‘little’ cabin; your home back in the city was considerably smaller than this.

 The thought making you dread the idea of how he viewed your modest house; after all, he was constantly smacking his head into the doorframes.

 .

 “Careful (Name), leave your mouth hanging open like that and I might just take it as an invitation…”

 .

 He trailed off as he walked towards the front door, fiddling around with his keys before unlocking and opening the rather large wooden door; amazing you when you noticed that it was taller than Taishiro was. You couldn’t help but wonder if the house was built specifically for his needs.

 “Especially since there’s no one out here to hear you scream” He grinned back at you when you jolted, his words snapping you out of the mental curiosities that you could think about later in the day. His words were meant to be playful; you could tell that much with ease, but given that he was a well-known and feared mafia boss. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever put those words to the test in a different setting.

 “Don’t get too excited, if you exhaust yourself too much with my mouth then we won’t have nearly as much fun as we could” You smiled up at him coyly, walking past before he could act on the flare of challenge that you had watched form in his honey-golden eyes; a look you could learn to love given his previous encounters with you.

 “But seriously…who else knows about this place?” You hummed out the question with vague curiosity as you walked into what appeared to be the loungeroom, already impressed with the giant couch. Though it looked more like Taishiro had had a part of the floor replaced with cushions, the edges of the giant floor-cushion rectangle having multiple places to prop yourself up into a sitting position; the entire set-up facing a large fire-pit that would certainly keep you warm once it was going. A unique way to adjust for Taishiro’s height, that was for sure.

 “No one, well not counting the men that built it…but that was a long time ago and this cabin is always empty unless I decide I need a break from my subordinates” You turned your head to look over at Taishiro, moving to follow him when you noticed him walking away already; though to where you had no idea. Perhaps the bedroom? Either way, if you wanted to find out, you would have to follow him.

 “…It’s still not little…but it is a beautiful home Taishiro, especially in the winter” Taishiro laughed as he stopped by a large bench, setting down a few bags you recognised to hold the clothing that the two of you had brought on the trip; the rest of the bags going with him as he disappeared through a large, heavy looking metal door.

 “I suppose you’re right. It’s quite spacious!” His cheery laughter was contagious, causing a smile to spread across your lips; enjoying the care-free Taishiro that had arrived at the cabin with you.

 .

 “Taishiro, this kitchen bench is so big…solid too, I bet you could use it as a bed and fit!”

 .

 You ran your fingertips over the smooth marble surface of the bench, admiring the fine craftsmanship before letting out a loud squeal of surprise, Taishiro having pinned you down flat against the smooth surface; grinding himself against your arse until you began to squirm beneath him. The action halting his advances while he cursed above you, large hands keeping you in place.

 “It could fit me, I can’t argue that…but I think you’d look much better on it, especially since this is where we’ll be eating all our meals” He leaned down to nibble on your ear, his hot breath making you shiver beneath him in anticipation; easily catching onto his hidden meaning.

 “Taishiro, you could fuck me like this for all I care…but don’t start something unless you plan on finishing it. We have an entire weekend to ourselves and I’m not wasting it on teasing touches that lead to nowhere” You pressed yourself back against him as you spoke to make your point even further, gasping when he returned the gesture, his erection grinding up against you.

 “Now that sounded like an invitation, sweetheart…” His voice dipped into a low rumble while his hands moved from your arms, down to the edges of your pants, giving a light tug to reveal his intentions.

 “It most certainly was. You aren’t the only one eager for some fun” You turned your head away from him, smiling when you felt him slide your pants down; allowing you to kick them off to the side, thankful that the house seemed to be pre-heated. Knowing Taishiro, he probably had some kind of app on his phone for such comforts.

 “Mm, can see that…you’re dripping for me already” He chuckled as he dragged two fingers across your soaked folds, enough to tease you before he set about stripping himself of the clothes that he found to be too restrictive for the current set of activities he had in mind for the two of you.

 “…About all the windows…” You trailed off, peeking back at him while Taishiro leaned down to kiss your cheek, a reassuring smile decorating his features; enough to settle the nerves that had built up within your chest.

 “I own the reserve that this place is built on, I mean, legally it’s anonymously owned to the public…but it’s mine. Which means that we’re the only two people for miles around, it’s just the two of us and whatever wild animals that happen to live in the area” You nodded slightly at his explanation, leaning back into his chest while he rubbed against your folds slowly; dragging your attention back to the task at hand.

 “Feel that, baby?” Taishiro dropped his voice down to a whisper, leaning down against your back and pressing you into the bench once again; slowly grinding himself against you until you let out a small noise of frustration. Annoyed to have him tease you like that.

 “I brought you hear so that we can spend some time together, just the two of us…and I fully intend on fucking you in every room of this cabin. In every way I possibly can. Think you can take it?” You rolled your eyes at his question, pushing yourself back against him once more before gasping out when he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you steady as he thrust into you; groaning low at the way your body squeezed down on him.

 “That’s my girl…I swear, you’re as bad as I am” He chuckled lightly, placing a kiss on your shoulder before using the arm around your waist to lift your hips ever-so-slightly; the result being you screaming out his name when he thrust his hips again, his thick dick pressing up against your spot mercilessly. Simply rubbing up against it while he held you in place, giving a light roll of his hips, seemingly enjoying the whine that escaped you.

 “Taishi…” You squirmed against his hold, squeezing your eyes shut when he began to thrust his hips, greedily drinking in your appearance while you bounced on his cock; your cries quickly filling the quiet room.

 .

 “You’re so cute when you’re whining in need baby, keep doing it. For me?”

 .

 Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as he spoke, unable to stop yourself from moaning and crying out with each thrust of his hips; instead deciding to ride out the pleasure he was showering you with.

 “Turn around for me baby” Taishiro groaned as he removed himself from  you, slowly setting you back down onto your feet and watching you as you turned to face him; your clueless look spurring him to steal your breath away with a hungry kiss. Swallowing any complaints that you might have had before you could voice them.

 “Up we go~” Taishiro lifted you up onto the counter, sitting you on the very edge before stepping between your legs and moving his hands to guide your legs around his waist; a silent instruction for you to keep him close.

 “You probably want this out the way, huh?” You smiled as you reached down, fiddling with the buttons that kept your chest hidden from Taishiro’s hungry gaze; finding great amusement in the way his attention dropped straight to your hand, watching eagerly and waiting for you to undo the shirt he had leant you.

 “Baby…you’ve got three seconds before I tear that top open with my fucking teeth” Taishiro growled out in frustration, his eyes never leaving your hand as you played with the buttons; deciding against undoing them. It would be so much more amusing to watch him tear the shirt away.

 “Please do~” You giggled when he dipped his head, lightly nipping at your fingers until you moved your hand out of the way; allowing him to grab a hold of the shirt with his teeth before giving a harsh yank away from your body. Absolutely ruining the shirt by forcing all of the buttons to tear off of the shirt, flying in every which way; leaving your chest bare to Taishiro’s gaze.

 .

 “Taishiro?”

 .

 He hummed in response, laying you onto your back on the bench before taking your sensitive nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub; pulling a sweet moan from your lips, your back arching up and pushing your chest further into his face. Encouraging his actions.

 “Look at you…beautiful…” Taishiro mumbled the words, thrusting his hips forwards harshly and burying himself inside of you; rolling your nipple between his teeth carefully, the sensation sending a spark of electricity racing down your spine.

 You ignored his ramblings, instead tangling your fingers in his golden locks, tugging harshly until he got the message, his thrusts growing more erratic; more power behind them while his assault on your chest grew less forgiving.

 Leaving a trail of bitemarks as he took the time to appreciate your body.

 .

 “Impatient, aren’t you?”

 .

 You narrowed your eyes at him, tugging at his hair before gasping out when he slapped his hand against your thigh harshly; grinning widely at the flustered look that decorated your otherwise pleasure-filled features.

 “Oh, baby…you liked that didn’t you?” You bit your bottom lip, hesitantly nodding your head in response moments before he slapped your thigh again; pulling another noise from your lips. This time, a mewl that had his heart racing.

 “Fuck…you haven’t made that noise for me before…” He trailed off, leaning down and stealing your lips in a demanding kiss, his eagerness showing through the way he thrust his hips; putting more power behind the thrusts until you were slowly sliding further onto the bench.

 “Taishi…!” You whined out his name into the kiss, crying out when his hands closed down on your hips, dragging you back down to meet his thrusts; the force behind the action feeling absolutely magical.

 “Where the fuck do you think you’re going baby? I’m not even close to being done with you!” He grunted from the building pleasure, burying his face against your chest and nipping at your boobs to distract himself; the action both cute and frustrating.

 “Taishi…hey, come on…” You whined out his name, arching your back as he continued to pull you down against him to meet his thrusts, each time sending a jolt of electricity throughout your body; slowly pushing your orgasm closer and closer until finally, Taishiro’s name fell from your lips in a cry of ecstasy.

 .

 “That’s it, ride out your orgasm baby. Let me hear you!”

 .

 You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when he slapped his hands down against your thighs, giving you a moments rest from his harsh thrusts before he dragged you back down against him; your thighs still stinging from his harsh slaps.

 Though you enjoyed every moment of his eccentrics.

 .

 “You sound amazing (Name), crying out like that…make sure you say my name next time, got it? Nice n’ loud!”

 .

 .

 ~ ~  ~

 .

 .

 You whimpered out Taishiro’s name brokenly as your back arched, your entire body trembling while he squeezed your tender thighs, causing you to try and close your legs around his head despite the fact he was still teasing your clit mercilessly; enjoying the soft whimpers and whines that fell uncontrollably from your lips.

 “Mm…delicious as always baby girl” Taishiro hummed in satisfaction, sliding your legs off of his broad shoulders while he stood to his proper height; licking his lips clean of your juices. Taking a moment to admire how beautiful you looked sprawled out on the kitchen bench like you were; a dazed, half-lidded look in your eyes. Not quite here yet certainly not far away enough where you could ignore the almost endless orgasms that he had put you through since arriving at his private cabin.

 “Still with me (Name)?” Taishiro reached out, tenderly cupping your cheek while you lifted your gaze drowsily; barely able to focus on the man that had most certainly overstimulated you.

 “You did such a good job baby…now, come on, it was a long drive and you look exhausted…I think a nap might do us both some good” Taishiro lifted you into his arms carefully, pressing his lips to your forehead in a tender show of affection before making his way through the cabin; uncaring that the both of you were naked.

 It was just the two of you and he thought you were beautiful, there was no point hiding you away behind clothes when he would just tear them off of you again later on, once you had recovered from his touches.

 .

 “Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up for dinner. Get some rest, (Name).”

[hellothere-generalangsty]

hi hello little mes. may i have a lil 📝 please? 👉🏻👈🏻 🥺 love u tons baby

-ari

Baaaabe of course I'll do yours! Trust me there are a lot. Because your fics are just THAT comforting and good. Also the order follows the one of your Masterlist; my absolute favorite is in blue 💙

Tagging u because I don't think you receive the notif when you send anonymously (I know I don't) @loth-wolffe

________

Home again

Of course I had to talk about this one; I just love the subtext in it.

[…]a little space for him to just be something more than what he was bred to be; not a soldier, not a brother, not a clone.

Just him.

See, that's the essence of the clones. The struggle of finding their identity through all these designations. Soldier, clone, brother, man. All of them, yet none of them. But then there's another option.

Themselves. No other name but the one they chose. No other person but the one they are.

He's got you, he thinks. And he's home.

Even if it's for a few days, everything's alright.

"It is now."

Again; it's beautiful yet painful. The only peace, comfort, home he knows is you; and you are ephemeral, he's passing-by for a few days, and though for a few days things will be fine- these days will also stop eventually and bring him back to the cold, bloody war he has no other choice but to be a part of.

And you manage to express that through barely a few sentences. I am amazed.

.

It's been a long, long time

This one is. It always hit me in the guts because it feels close to home to be honest. And it's both terrifying and reassuring to really be the reader and to know what they both feel; that dreading fear, do you still love me like you used to?

Which led you to this moment, nervousness bubbling in your chest like some sort of venom, thick and foul, spreading through your body fast and corrosive.

You feel sick at the mere thought of having him in front of you.

These two quotes hurt from being so real. It's the anxiety eating you alive as your mind fills with questions and doubts and fears.

And then the moment comes:

Your hand itches to feel him.

Where you need to know. You need a touch, a word, something to let you know where exactly you are now.

Until you do.

Rex wraps your body in his arms, pulling you flush against him, face hiding in your neck as he breathes you in. He almost cries, right then and there, you smell just like he remembered, like something sweet, something like home.

It's comforting, really, to know nothing has changed between you two in a galaxy that always seems to be.

And just like that, you know you're fine.

And it's honestly - for me - your best fic because it's the one I see myself in the most. It's very real to me and it's just... It just gave me hope when I was hopeless; it gave me the strength to face my fears/ doubts and to trust my partner and myself enough to know that even after all that time apart, it would be alright.

We still find each other. We still love each other, and care for each other. And we still find a way to make things work.

It's not about leaving, it's about always coming back to each other. And that's why this fic will always have a very special place in my heart.

I'm grateful you wrote it, because it was here when I needed it the most.

.

Here in the open

Rex is so soft in this one-

The way he drops the mantle of Captain and simply is Rex, a man who never felt sand under his feet, who never felt the warmth of a kiss and the soft touches of hands running on his body-

I promise you this fic is. Absolutely amazing. It's just so delicate and natural; the way everything happens, learning that a beach can be pretty and calm, that you can feel something else than your hard plastoid armour or the cold metal of droids; that there's more than fighting in life.

It's just so meaningful and soft, I just love that fic.

And tbh these last few sentences were hot. Me like it.

.

Goodbye again

It's a Fives' fic, of course I love it. And it's the opposite of 'It's been a long, long time' in a way, so I love it even more.

That one quote about knowing that one day, he won't come back... It hurts. It really does. Because we know he won't come back, right. That's why we write these fics in the first place, because we know and we are so desperate to change that.

You wish you could see him, but he's already late, and someone calls his name but he decides ignores them.

Right now, you're more important than them, than war, than everything he's supposed to be made for. You are his whole world, at the end, his home, his safe harbor he can always come back to after the most harrowing storm.

And again, the whole crisis around who you were made to be and who you want to be- who you truly are.

And the metaphor? Earlier on he thinks reader is an anchor to him; and now a safe harbor? Yes, sign me in immediately.

"I'll comm you as soon as I can."

[A few moments later, on the comm]

"I miss you already."

Dude. That and the "I said I love you! "

It just makes me m e l t. It's so SOFT. Ari I promise you I could read everyday and feel these goosebumps like it was the first time. I'm just so soft for this little playfulness, this amused affection he has.

That's just... That's just so him.

[And here you can witness Meds falling in love all over again]

.

Doctor's orders

This. I am SO WEAK for this trope. "Where does it hurts? " try my CHEEKS BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP SMILING DUDE.

Kix is so. Soft. And the way you wrote it? "This is it. This is him making the first move." ?? "Then you'll need a few more kisses. Doctor's orders. " ??? Do you want me dead????

Good thing Kix's a doctor because I need someone to breath life back into my body right now.

.

The warmth a cup of caf brings can also be given by the gentlest of souls.

Where do I even start...

I love the domestic undertones. The habits, knowing about one another, recognising patterns and filling the gaps between the two.

Him watering the plants, you knowing he hates that movie; it just smells like trust and comfort. That's the kind of habits and almost mechanical reactions you develop when you just know someone.

This fic is like- the development of "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you" and that's just... So meaningful.

You know, I'm a sucker for domestic life and everything that comes with it, and this fic is the epitome of that. It's comforting. I love it.

.

Baby came home

It's one of the first I read from you, and I remember how painful it was. I think that's the fic that convinced me to dedicate my life to your stories.

The amount of pain. Unrequited Love is one thing; but when both parties love each other yet it just can't be-

"I can't love you anymore." / "you can't love me anymore."

Baby I promise you, you broke my heart and had me honestly tearing up. It is even more because it's Obi-Wan. A man who spent his life losing everything he ever had. His freedom, his master, his friends, men, lovers. Eventually his family, and his life.

And here he loses more. And here he carries pain- and it hurts him but not only. And that's soul crushing.

And you have a way with words. You have a way with words that make it all so true, you don't just write these stories, you bring them to life. And it's painful but oh will I ask for more anyway.

.

That Maul fic

"Ruthless and violent.

But not with you."

That's it. That's the trope. I am in love.

I just- I adore your take on Maul. And you should expect a Maul request when you'll open them again because gIRL do you write him well.

Because before you he didn't know something as simple a touch could be so soft, and light, before you he had no knowledge of such feelings, of warmth and and home. Of safeness.

This is the same energy as Crosshair being at home when he's with you. Men breeded for war, hurt and broken, somehow managing to find a little peace and softness through someoke who just- loves them.

[…]and his eyes gleam at the small action, the warm shade of a yellow that reminds you of the suns you both met under makes you lean over for a kiss […]

Aka how to turn a very distinctive symbol of pain and evil into something delicate and beautiful. Poetry at it's finest.

It's been too long since he last kissed you. Around noon, before you left to your usual walks around the Palace gardens' with his brother.

It's so sweet; at first I chuckled because it's silly. But then I felt sad because it is silly. It's mundane, and it feels exaggerated - just what you wrote - but it's Maul. A man who's been deprived of love and affection for so long, of course he's going to miss it as soon as it leaves.

As soon as you leave.

I just- I just love how you have me sitting there and analysing your fics and finding double meanings and subtext and how you subtly reminds us of the pain in the soft moments; and the softness in the painful ones.

This fic is a feel- good fic; it's powerful yet soft and I absolutely love that.

________

So yeah. That was a bit longer than I thought but I won't apologize because these fics are just-

They're so comforting and good. And I just love them so. So much.

Moony is right when she says you write magic; you do. And, Ari. I am proud of you. I really am. You always leave me there, speechless and absolutely captivated by your stories and the delicacy of your words and that little something hidden between the lines-

I'm not lying when I say you hold my heart in your hands. You really do.

[carminavulcana]

A Tale Of Two Suitors

Prompt:  Crack! - Jayasena sends a proposal to Sivagami Devi in his youth only to go toe to toe with Vikramadeva. @bleedinknight @ruminationsofaraven @thebaahubalibakeoffchallenge

Story:

It was not common to hold a swayamwar for those not of royal blood. While a noble birth brought with itself the comforts of royal living and a measure of social authority, certain privileges were reserved for princesses only.

But that was not true for Rukmini, the daughter of Nandankesava, the governor of Madurai. Nandan often worried about his youngest child, a stunning but untamable force of nature. As a child, the entire residential complex of the royal ministers and courtiers had been in perpetual fear of her mischief and antics. Now, she was both, the pride and envy of many young women… and for very good reasons.

Rukmini was a remarkable woman in every visible sense. Her tall, strong body curved in all the right places. Her long, black hair rippled past her hips and down to her knees. Her eyes, sharp and coy at the same time, had broken many hearts over the years.

But now, she was to be married.

The governor had found a suitable match for her. Verma Jayasena, the crown prince of Kunthala, had asked for her hand in marriage. It was a matter of great fortune. The queen mother of Kunthala, had sent nine gold platters piled high with nine types of precious gems: diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls, garnets, musgravites, alexandrites, and grandidierites.

But Nandan’s foolish daughter had laughed derisively at the emissaries from Kunthala, before dismissing them and their proposal.

If the prince of Kunthala really wanted to marry the fiery and beautiful Rukmini, she told them, he would have to prove himself worthy of her. He would have to defeat an opponent of her choosing in a set of challenges designed by the woman in question herself.

Everyone had expected that such a ridiculous demand would be refused. But to everyone’s surprise, Jayasena had accepted.

Nandan was now dreading the actual day of the contest. Oh! When he had prayed to the gods for a little princess, he hadn’t realized how literally his wish would be granted. Princesses, by definition, were spoilt to a fault and treated with gloves of air. His daughter Rukmini was a princess in every way except for the blood that flowed in her veins.

XXXXX

“Child, you have to let us know what this challenge is,” Nandan pleaded with his daughter. “And who is this mysterious ‘champion’ of yours. If he is one of the village boys, I swear I will…”

“Father, you will do nothing,” Rukmini said flippantly. “If I am to be married, I won’t be married to a poltroon. It is my right to choose my husband.”

“Jayasena is a good man,” Anjana, Rukmini’s mother tried knocking sense into her daughter’s thick skull. “We know of his prowess in battle. Remember the expedition he led last year against those tyrants from Dharaveera. His mother sent you such fine jewels and silks. Why must you throw it all away?”

Rukmini yawned. Her parents were idiots! She had suspected as much since childhood, but now she was convinced. Silks and gems? What was she? Some idol in a temple?

Did silks know how to pleasure a woman? Could gems replicate the dirty humor of a man drunk on desire? Could precious metals let go of their senses in her expert, merciless hands? Ugh, these stupid elders never asked the important questions. More importantly, could inanimate objects partake of sin with her and ride the horses of sacrilege right to the ditches of hell?

Rukmini knew that her thoughts and her words were too dramatic and scandalous to voice out aloud. But she had her ways of getting what she wanted.

This time would be no different.

And she had no desire to spoil the surprise for her parents.

Her mysterious champion, as they called him, would give a perfect welcome to her so-called royal suitor. After all, he had helped her come up with the contests. And the filth in her mind was not just her own. The inflammations of passion were never a one-sided road.

The challenge itself was going to be easy. She simply needed to see if the man she was to marry could keep up with her.

XXXXX

Jayasena worried incessantly about the upcoming challenge. His power mother could not understand his obsession with the mad daughter of a mere governor.

“Son, so many other kingdoms wish to form alliances with us,” she groaned. “Why must you agree to the humiliation of a swayamwar.”

“You have not seen her, mother,” Jayasena responded feverishly. “Her eyes are the color of black gold, her skin is the hue of the sun’s shimmering warmth, her voice…”

The rajmata rolled her eyes, “there he goes again.”

In the days leading up to the challenge, he took the help of his little sister to prepare. Devasena, all of eight years, was smart and quick-witted, much like the fabled Rukmini of Madurai.

She taught Jayasena to flirt.

“Offer her flowers. All women like flowers. String them together and make an ornament for her hair.”

She taught him a romantic lullaby.

“Mine is meant for little Kanha, but you could change the words, see… Rukmini nidurinchira, Rukmini nidurinchira…”

She taught him to dance.

“And then stretch you belly out… no! not like that, you imbecile. You want to look impressive and strong. Right now, it looks like you ate too much and need to go find a chamber pot!”

Jayasena wasn’t sure how much Devasena’s tips would help him. But since his mother was unwilling to help and he didn’t have any other adult females in his life, Devasena was his only option. Though he suspected that it was just a game for her, a matter of amusement. He didn’t think Rukmini would judge him on his dancing prowess or his ability to sing her a lullaby.

He hoped the challenge would be martial in nature. His weapons were extensions of his hands. They had never failed him before. He hoped they would see him through this time as well.

XXXXX

The day of the contest arrived. Nandankesava’s entire house was in a state of chaos. Rukmini, already considered neurotic by most of the servants, was even more impossible to deal with this morning.

“Aiee! Have you brought the cactus?” She demanded of Ramesh, one of her father’s manservants. “I told you it needs to be at least as tall as me. And I hope the thorns have been replaced with the… decorations… I ordered.”

“Yes, akka, the cactus is exactly as you asked for,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to produce it before her.

“Hmmm,” she gave him one of her famous death glares and turned away. Ramesh sighed in relief as she approached Kaumudi, one of the cooks. “Has the prasadam been prepared according to my instructions?”

“Yes, akka, but…” Kaumudi tried to reason with her master’s crazy daughter yet again. But to no avail. Rukmini dismissed her with a wave of her hand without even looking at her.

In another wing of the house, Anjana brought out her ancestral jewelry for her daughter, a bright yellow and pink saari, and a bottle of lavender-scented oil to massage into her skin.

But Rukmini was too busy overseeing the preparations to worry about mundane, inconsequential matters like her wardrobe for her own swayamwar.

It was only after Anjana screamed through the mansion at the top of her lungs that Rukmini went running into her room to get dressed.

Between plenty of yelling and name-calling and insults, Rukmini’s older sisters managed to complete her sringaaram.

“Ow! That hurt, you old cow!” Rukmini snapped at Bhavani, the sister closest to her in age.

“How dare you call me a cow?” Bhavani screeched. “You know what? To hell with your sringaaram. You are a shrew… a wild, beastly, bad-mouthed shrew. You are not meant to be a wife. I already pity your future husband. Poor bastard will be saddled with a witch for his whole life.”

“Better a witch than a stupid cow like you…”

“Watch your tongue, little one,” one of the older sisters warned Rukmini just as Bhavani lunged at her and had to be held back by several of the other women in the room. It took yet another hour to get her ready.

XXXXX

Finally, Rukmini sat regally on the stage. Her skin shone and her eyes sparkled. A demure smile played at her lips. But those who really knew her could sense the bubbling laughter just waiting to break free from between her teeth.

As the fourth prahara of the day ended, the gong announcing the opening of the challenge was sounded. The two challengers, dressed in practical battle gear with their faces covered, stood ready with their weapons drawn.

Adhyaman, the advisor to the governor, and also Rukmini’s favorite uncle, stood up and announced the rules of the challenge.

“Listen, o suitors carefully,” he began in his sonorous voice. “This is a challenge unlike any you have ever faced. A challenge of a lifetime. There will be three rounds. The victor in at least two out of the three rounds will win the hand of our beloved Rukmini, the most beautiful and accomplished daughter of Madurai’s esteemed governor, Anna Nandankesava.”

Behind him, Bhavani made an ugly, strangled noise in her throat that sounded like a cross between a snort and a groan.

For the first challenge, two large steel platters of assorted ghee-enriched sweets were brought out.

“The first challenge is easy, my friends,” Adhyaman said. “You must finish the last scrap of the sweets on your platter, lick it as clean as you can. Our daughter must be able to see her face in the platter and braid her hair looking into it, for you to be considered successful. A flawless platter would be a flawless victory in this first challenge. And you may not use your hands. Only your mouth.”

Jayasena could not believe his ears. The first challenge was to eat a platter of sweets? Without the use of his hands.

His mother had been right. This was beyond humiliating. He considered giving up for a moment, but then his eyes met the gaze of Rukmini, smiling sweetly, poisonously at him, as if challenging him to give up.

Jayasena never gave up. It wasn’t in his blood.

He started eating from the platter. Without the use of his hands, it was clumsy and embarrassing but one sidelong glance at his competitor showed him that now was not the time for propriety. On and on it went. He ate like his life depended on it. But as he reached the half-mark on the platter, he felt a discomfiting pressure between his thighs. What the? Why was he feeling so hot and bothered all of a sudden? He looked up to see Rukmini. There was open glee and lust in her eyes. Or was he imagining it? Was there… was there something mixed in the sweets? He had only ever heard of such substances. Oh dear Lord! What had he gotten himself into? Was Rukmini looking for a husband or a pleasure slave?

From that point, it got harder to focus on the task. But he had to win. With no care for what was happening around him, he ate. After finishing the last scrap from the platter, he licked it spotless, his tongue moving methodically in long, circular motions.

Rukmini watched the two contenders with a large, impish grin on her face as the perplexed audience, including her parents and the elders of the family stared with revulsion and shock at the spectacle unfolding before them.

At long last, the competitors stood back. Rukmini stood up and casually strolled into the field. Her loosely tied hair billowed in the hot summer wind of the coast.

“hmmm,” she remarked as she judged the two platters before her. She fixed her Kumkum by looking into the platter licked clean by Jayasena. There were streaks of residual butter on it but not a single crumb to mar the perfection of her sordid reflection. The other platter was a touch more spotless, She could see the fineness of the strands of her hair in it.

“My champion wins this round,” she declared in her booming voice. “Jayasena, you must perform in the next contest if you hope to remain a suitor for my hand.”

Crestfallen, Jayasena looked at the young, boyish face of the other contestant. He didn’t like the glint in his eye. Oh! He would find out his name and teach him a lesson later!

The next round was even stranger.

A troupe of sensuously dressed male and female dancers were led to the field and two large pitchers of wine were placed before the challengers.

“Your next challenge is to admire the beauty and performance of our most talented dancers and enjoy your drink as they entertain all of us. And as you do this, you must keep your eye out for the horserider in the background. On his flag, is a target that you must hit. Whoever does it successfully, will win this round. Remember, you can only pick up your bow and arrow after you have finished the last drop of wine in your pitcher.”

“What is wrong with you, daughter?” Nandan hissed angrily in Rukmini’s ear. “You have destroyed your reputation for good with stupid stunt. You wish to be remembered as a harpy? Or as your sister has named you so aptly, an untamable witch?”

“Shhh, father,” she replied coolly. “Just watch.”

Jayasena did not know how potent the wine would be. Had he known, he might have consumed it slowly to avoid getting hit badly by the psychoactive and inhibitory effects of the drink. But in his zeal to complete the challenge first, he drank like a man possessed, even as he could feel the liquid sloshing around in his belly. The dancers, with their suggestive moves and riveting, rhythmic music did nothing to soothe the burn in his loins. At this rate, he felt he would be driven mad.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the other challenger dancing drunkenly with the dancers, his pitcher balanced dangerously on the top of his head. The other man took long, lazy sips of the wine as the dancers touched him inappropriately in several places. Gasps of horror could be heard all around as the competition went from strange to outright obscene.

Jayasena did not care for any of it. The moment he finished the last of his wine, his eyes started searching for the horserider. But before long, the wine made its potency known to him. His vision swam, his arms and legs felt heavy and uncoordinated. As he tried to shoot his arrow, his bones wiggled like jelly in his arms. He lost his footing and fell on his ass on the hard, unyielding ground. But instead of indignant fury, only wet little giggles and burps burst forth from his lips. He continued to sit there uselessly and laugh as the rider passed by him multiple times, the flag and the target tantalizingly close each time. While Jayasena tried unsuccessfully to stand up through his uncontrollable chortling, the other champion finished his wine and gave one last salacious look to the dancers. With his arms and feet as steady as ever, he mounted an arrow on his bow and searched for the rider with his eyes.

Aha! There he was.

In the blink of an eye, the arrow whizzed past Jayasena’s still giggling form and hit the target right in the center. In response, Jayasena only let out a tiny, breathy, “hee hee,” before dissolving into yet another round of undignified titters.

The winner was clear. The mysterious champion had won two challenges consecutively. There was no need for a third.

“The challenge is over, ladies and gentlemen,” Adhyaman announced, his voice thick with badly controlled mirth. “It is decided. Rukmini, our precious child of the governor, shall marry Vikramadeva, the crown prince of Mahishmati.”

The stunned crowd took a long moment before erupting into cheers. Nandan gaped at his daughter, speechless. Whispers broke out among the women and the ladies-in-waiting.

No one paid any attention to Jayasena, who was still on the ground, grinning like a fool. “Mahishmati… hee hee… the brain of a buffalo… buffalo brain… down in a drain… like brainy buffalo…hee hee… hick. Hick. Hee hee… hick.”

Jayasena, now hiccupping in between his gurgling burps and sniggers had to carried off the field on a stretcher.

By the time he was sober, he was back in his bed in the royal suite at the Kunthala Palace. “You made us very proud, son,” his mother said coldly before giving him a drink of water. Bleary-eyed and in pain with a killer headache, he remembered only bits and pieces of the challenge for Rukmini’s hand in marriage.

“What… what happened, mother?” he asked, squinting to see her face properly.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she retorted and stomped out of the room.

He hung his head low and began to piece together the events of the swayamwar. As he pieced together his recollections, a deep wave of shame and despair swept through him.

Never again. Never again would he accept a swayamwar.

He doubted he would ever get over the humiliation of this one. It would be a wonder if any princess agreed to marry him after this disaster.

As he craned his neck to look at the familiar surroundings of his room, he noticed a figure standing at the edge of the room. He couldn’t make out the face because the figure, presumably female, was covered from head to toe in a heavy sari and a cloak that covered her head, face, and arms.

“Excuse me,” he rasped. “Who are you.”

There was no response.

“You cannot be here,” he tried again, this time with some authority in his voice. “These are the private rooms of the crown prince. Leave at once.”

Again, there was no response.

Enraged, Jayasena stumbled out of bed and pulled the cloak off the woman.

But to his utter astonishment, it wasn’t a woman at all. It was a cactus. A tall, thick cactus covered in brightly colored feathers where there should have been thorns.

On closer observation, he saw a note fixed to the “arm” of the cactus which read—“Thanks for attending the swayamwar of Rukmini. If you can find no one to marry you after your embarrassing performance, marry this cactus. The feathers are soft enough to mimic the softness of a woman and useless enough to mimic your equally useless manhood. Good riddance!”

Jayasena flushed with rage and ripped the note to shreds before he could see it. Somehow, he would find a way to pay back the witch of Madurai. He would bide his time and humiliate her someday just as she had humiliated him.

Of course, he did not know that his opportunity would come in the form of his firecracker of a sister whose favorite lullaby was still echoing through the halls of the royal nursery.

XXXXX

“You were very harsh to him,” Vikramadeva said to Rukmini as they basked in each other’s company after the long day.

Despite her disgraceful display and the terrible nature of the challenge, nobody could say anything to Rukmini anymore because she had done even better for herself than her father. Mahishmati was an empire that controlled most, if not the entirety, of the southern peninsula of the Indian subcontinent. She would soon be the wife of the crown prince, and the would-be queen of that vast, endless imperial dynasty. Kunthala was a small, insignificant vassal kingdom by comparison. Even a thousand Kunthalas could not match up to the one and only Mahishmati.

But for now, she was with her beloved. She didn’t care for titles. She only cared about getting what she wanted.

“Oh! Loosen up,” she stuck her tongue out at her beloved. “All is fair in love and war. All this swayamwar drama could have been avoided had that loser never sent a proposal. No one sends a proposal to my father unless I allow it. He will think twice before sending any proposal to anyone after this.”

Vikramadeva laughed heartly and pulled Rukmini closer to himself.

“Well, now that this is settled, can we move on to more important topics?”

“Yes, and what would those be?”

“Well, the first is the name I wish you to take after marriage?”

“I like my name,” Rukmini pouted. “What’s wrong with it? I won’t change my name.”

Vikrama smiled tenderly at her.

“You don’t have to do it,” he said as he gently brought her lips close to his. “But I would like it if you did. There is a reason.”

“Tell me the reason first,” she purred softly into his strong chest.

“Rukmini is the fun, frolicky daughter of Madurai’s governor,” Vikrama’s voice was low and thoughtful. “But Rukmini cannot be the queen and eventually the queen mother of an empire as large and fractured as Mahishmati. From day one, people will look up to you to ease their pain, to hear their woes, to calm their fears… they need a wise woman of knowledge and duty. This sweet, naughty ‘shrew’ shall be only mine, and that too in the safety of our conjugal chambers.”

Rukmini considered his words. For the first time in their relationship, she thought about what it would mean to be the queen of Mahishmati.

“What name do you propose?” she asked him.

“Sivagami,” he answered. “The one who walks in the path of Siva. Durga and Parvathi, Kaali and Bhairavi. Life giving and death enforcing.”

She thought for several moments before answering him. In the end, she understood and agreed with his reasoning. He wanted her to rise above her petty, shallow, and vain self. He wanted her to grow into the shoes of a great queen, a woman who would be remembered kindly in history.

“I accept,” her words were simple. But something had shifted in her tone. Her life of mischief and antics was over. It was time to let go of her childish ways and embrace her destiny.

Much like Jayasena, she did not know what fate had in store for her. Sivagami would face the wheel of karma too. She would have to answer for the anguish caused by Rukmini’s ‘harmless’ pranks. And the weight of her atonement would test the limits of her endurance. The shrew’s manicured, pampered hands would know the pain of shram and shraddha in intimate detail.

[katerinawinters]

Predator: Huntress Alpha ch 8

"Is this…" she paused, looking around the narrow space in disbelief. "Is this your apartment?"

 Jarak looked from her and followed her line of sight around the cramped space, trying to see what she saw before nodding.

 "Jarak, it's so tiny!" she blew out an exasperated breath as she sat the fruit on a narrow counter jutting from the wall in an area that looked to be a small kitchenette. Turning back around to the hunter, she gave him a confused look. "You're way too big for a tiny apartment like this. Is rent high here or something?"

 Tilting his head in question, Jarak lifted his gauntlet and clacked the tips of his claws against the data-pad. Entranced, she watched him as he read the holographic information before closing it and lowering his arm.

 "I do not pay rent," he answered firmly.

 For a moment, Justice let the little scene playback in her head and remembered the backward lettering he pulled up from his gauntlet, with a slow spreading smile of realization, she fought back the urge to laugh. He had looked up the word rent.

 Pressing her lips together, she stifled her laughter to ask another question, but Jarak's eyes narrowed as he watched her closely, and he cut her off.

 "Yautja do not use money. We gain what is needed ourselves. We bring honor to our clan, and if I am worthy, the clan leader will decide what to bestow to me."

 Nodding, she walked toward the bed which dominated most of the back wall, save for the two doors on either side of it, the bed looked properly proportioned, at least. Although, she noted it was another black leather mattress. Pulling Larsa from the harness, Justice carefully put her on the bed.

 "So, does your leader not think you are worthy enough for a bigger room than this?" She asked, genuinely interested. Maybe this leader of Ojibwe was a real dick. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would need to meet the reigning yautja, and she wanted to know as much as she could about the hunter beforehand.

 Turning in place, Jarak watched her as she sat cautiously at the end of his bed and shook his head once at her question. "Rakkah is a worthy leader. He has shown respect to my victories. He has offered me much, but I need little. I have taken a ship as one of my bounty payments, that is all I require."

 Right now, she was positive she possessed more information about yautja than all the galaxies combined. Nodding once more, Justice glanced around the cramp quarters and reassessed. It was spartan, just like the hunter's ship. Besides the ridiculous amount of weapons lining the left wall, there was not one other piece of personality lying about like it was in her apartment back on LV594. Baby toys had been scattered across the living room floor. Dirty clothes, hers and Larsa's were sitting in a pile by the door ready to be taken to the laundry unit, and the single holo-photo of her and her sisters kept on a tiny piece of flimsy, all smiling and posing within their suits and guns, tucked under her pillow. All lost to her now.

 Running her fingers softly across the bottom of Larsa's soft foot, she looked up to the hunter. Whatever he saw shining back in her eyes made the hunter stiffen suddenly.

 "Stay here, I will return," without waiting for a reply Jarak turned and left through the only door.

 Justice waited until the door shut once more before finally standing. Taking off her backpack and pulling the gun's strap over her head, she sighed just as her stomach let out a deep growl. Walking over to the kitchenette, she surveyed the simplicity of it: a counter, a sink, and a glass refrigerator nearly tall as she was holding a huge rack of raw marbled meat inside.

 A meal of champions, she thought wryly.

 Washing off the fruit, Justice took a tentative bite and smirked at the tart flavor. Grabbing and washing three more, she began to walk the length of the apartment. Similar to his ship, the uneven black walls were covered in various striations and grooves, hiding a number of hidden compartments and interactive displays. Circling back around until she was at the bed, she stopped in front of one of the two doors. Pushing the data-panel, she was surprised at the spacious--of course, all black--bathroom beyond.

 Stepping into the bathroom, she was relieved to see that this one had a large blank space of wall next to the data-pad. Scrolling through the yautja lettering, she found the selection she wanted and tapped it. The portion of the wall next to her shimmered and rippled as if the metal had turned to water before blinking into a dark mirrored surface. Looking at herself in the floor to ceiling mirror, Justice sighed. Her clothes were filthy with dirt and grime, and her braids, which hung to her waist, faired no better. Picking one up, she was beginning to pick out some of the dirt trapped within the coiled braid when the door to the apartment swooshed open again.

 Stepping in holding two black leather sacks, Jarak walked towards the kitchenette counter.

 "The other human women have provided you this," he waved a hand brusquely to the bags and stepped back.

 Justice looked up at him in surprise. "There are other humans on your planet?"

 Well, there goes that theory of her being the first to have collected such rare yautja information, she thought sorely.

 "Yes, Rakkah's mate and Akur's," he replied as if she knew the mentioned hunters.

 Too tired to delve into the subject, she began to reach for the sack as he turned back toward the door.

 "Wait, you're leaving?"

 Pausing, the towering hunter did not turn around as he answered. "Yes."

 Justice felt a twinge of guilt as she looked around the tiny space. "I don't want to kick you out of your room--your very small room," she added with a smile as he turned to look at her directly. "To be honest. I kind of expected you to put me in some sort of holding cell."

 His eyes glimmered in the shadow of his pronounced brow ridge, and his fanged mouth beneath his mandibles moved slightly. "We have no holding cell," he informed her seriously. "Yautja do not take prisoners."

 "Right," she nodded, crossing her arms and leaning on the counter to her right. "Yeah, you just kill whoever you don't like or send the rest to your creepy science ones."

 Jarak didn't argue that.

 Not sure what else to say, Justice looked away. "Where are you going to sleep?"

 "I do not currently require sleep," Jarak responded, his naturally aggressive tone at odds with the simple statement.

 "But what if you did and you wanted to sleep? I have no problem sleeping on a couch…" she paused, looking around the empty place once more. The front of the apartment was suspiciously empty as if it were designed for seating, but she would bet her last credit that the hunter used the bit of open space to train in. "Ok, floor," she corrected.

 "No," his deep tone was final.

 "Fine," she said, throwing up her hands and turning back towards the bed to sit next to Larsa. "I'm not going to argue with you. If you want to go sleep in a tree or whatever, be my guest."

 As if completely satisfied with that option, Jarak turned back around and began walking to the door.

 "Wait, how do I contact you," she called out just as the door opened. "...if one of your brethren tries to come in here or something happens and I might need you," she explained. "I would like it to be said I at least attempted not to go with my natural inclination of shooting first."

 Slowly, Jarak turned his head until one eye caught her gaze over his shoulder. "No one would dare come into my space."

 Like all statements from the hunter, the words were simple, but the meaning was lethal. Letting her gaze drop past the red tips of his long dread-like spines, she observed the strong striation of muscles corded along his wide back, tapering down to his narrow waist. Justice remembered the way the hunter had slung the adult xenomorph by its tail with ridiculous ease as if it were the size of a cat, and she couldn't imagine too many people or even other yautja crossing Jarak and surviving.

 Opening his data-pad on his gauntlet once more, he turned around fully and stepped back towards her until he stood only a foot away. Holding out his hand, he gave her a waiting look.

 Justice cocked her head in a smile as she obediently laid her hand in his. "How did you know what my rings were for?"

 With a gentleness that seemed wholly strange on the humongous crab faced alien, Jarak carefully turned her hand over until her palm pressed against his. Justice could feel the rough ridges of his tough skin press against hers and marvel at the heat that radiated through it. For something with no discernable heat signature, he sure was hot to the touch, she thought. Again that made her think of the amazing sleep she had against the creature the other night.

 Touching one of the two white and silver rings she wore on each hand, Jarak activated her personal computer.

 "I am yautja," his voice growled out over her like a rumbling blanket made of storms and thunder. "There is little I do not know."

 Watching him type on the holographic keyboard her ring projected, Justice gave him an evil grin that caught his attention. "But you didn't know what rent was."

 Entering the data with a gruff growl, Jarak turned on his heel and left.

 Inside the sacks, Jarak had brought her was proof enough that a human lived on the planet: two thermos-like containers filled with still warm food, bottles of shampoo and soap, a pillow, and even a few baby things.

 Justice stared at a stuffed giraffe and turned it over in her hand in absent thought. Were the yautja purposely bringing human women with children back to their planet? And if so, why? It couldn't be torture, she thought as she looked at the hastily written note on a piece of flimsy that she found in the bag as well. Supposedly the woman, named Ember, was more than excited to meet her. Following the helpful instructions on the flimsy, she walked up to the wall near the kitchenette and activated the data-pad, and searched for what the note told her. With a push of a button, a drawer popped out of the wall to her right, and Justice smiled.

 A basin that is what yautja called their washing units. Shaking her head in a smile, she thought it was fitting. A washing machine was much too verbose for the towering Jarak to say. Basin in his deep guttural voice was much more appropriate.

 Stripping off all of her clothes until she stood completely nude, Justice stuffed her clothes into the drawer-unit and activated the washing cycle. Walking back to the bed, she grabbed one of the sacks in one hand and scooped up Larsa in her other arm. Settling the grunting baby onto the pillow on the bathroom floor, Justice fiddled with the controls on the shower until a black wall raised from the floor. Stopping just above her knee, the half wall turned the bottom of the large black shower into a tub. Pressing a few more commands, Justice filled the tub with water before stepping in with a deep groan. Sitting down, Justice was surprised at the spaciousness of the tub. It was deep and perfectly long enough for her, which was rare indeed.

 Closing her eyes for a few precious seconds, she was about to let her head lie back against the wall when Larsa began to fuss. Adjusting so that breasts were pressed against the bathtub's wall and her arms were folded on the rim, Justice stared down at her daughter.

 Catching her mother's eye, Larsa opened her tiny toothless mouth and let out an agitated sound. Justice rummaged in the bag with one wet hand and pulled out the soft giraffe. Making little noises, she knew Larsa enjoyed, Justice danced the doll over the baby and played with her from the rim of the tub, letting the sight of the little girl's gummy smile soothe her.

 "We're in a new place," she whispered as she kissed the giraffe's mouth against the side of Larsa's cheek. "We are surrounded by big scary-looking hunters, but it will be ok," she said, repeating the kiss on the other fat cheek. "Soon, mommy will meet their leader and hopefully talk him into letting us stay for a little bit."

 Playing with her until she was content to quietly look around on her on, Justice grabbed the large sea-sponge that was tucked in the bag and dipped it in the water. Water dripped and splashed as she raised each leg to the surface of the deep tub and ran the soft sponge over her legs. Her mind drifted back to LV549 and the "woolly woolies" in the primigenius. The large docile tusked mammoths were most likely safe but no doubt scared and lonely. For a year now, she had been working with the beast, studying their glowing tusk and their behaviors. Over time she had become attached to them. Their liquid black eyes staring at her with eternal patience as she fed them their favorite leafy treats while she performed her never-ending scans. Even Larsa had learned to enjoy the large beast, engaging them in a battle of stares that made Justice's eyes feel dry just thinking about it. Now her mammoths were bound for an early death on the infested planet. Before she fled the lab, Justice had made sure to call all her mammoths in from the outside enclosure and back into the lab before sealing it off. Inside they would have access to their daily reserves of water and food, but the supplies would run out, and the poor, gentle beast would starve--if they were lucky. Justice could only pray that the xenomorphs wouldn't sense the beast through the reinforced walls of the lab and work their way inside.

 Standing up in the now tepid water, Justice paused, looking around. There were no towels. Did yautja not dry themselves with towels? That made no sense. No one this advanced and this meticulous with their technology walks around soggy after each shower, she thought resolutely. As the water drained at her feet, she stood naked and braced one hand against the wall as she jabbed a finger at the control-screen in the shower, going through the options. Stopping at one foreign yautja word, Justice repeated it a few times in her head, searching for a translation. Gusting? After a second, her eyes widened in realization, and she smiled. Pressing the button, she stood back. Narrow vents opened up along the sides of the shower stall, and warm air began to blow through them.

 Dry, she stepped out of the shower stall and scooped up Larsa and her things. Changing, cleaning, and getting Larsa ready for sleep, Justice walked naked across the room and found the "gusting" option for her now clean clothes. Letting it run its cycle, she walked back towards the bed and sank down on the mattress, letting the cool leather press against her naked skin. Rummaging through the second bag, Justice grinned at the folded sheet tucked at the bottom and flipped out, spreading it partially over Larsa.

 Positioning her gun to the right of her, Justice stifled a yawn as she took a big gulp of the soup from the thermos. Fatigue was catching up to her. She needed to be rested for tomorrow because if for some reason things went south, she would need more than enough energy to fight her way off yet another planet crawling with aliens.

 by katerina winters

[spaceskam]

prompt #4 - arranged marriage [ao3]

Isobel had known since she was a little girl that she would be marrying one of the Manes boys.

It was an agreement to keep the peace once it became clear that she was the only daughter from the Antarian King and Queen and Earth’s High General only had sons. It was all fun and games when her little brother fooled around with the Manes’ youngest boy, of course, but when it came to her, it meant marriage. Every time she said it was sexist, her mother would sigh and say that was just the way things had to be. Which sounded even more sexist.

The day came too soon, though, and she was suddenly 20 and being prepped for her wedding. She still hadn’t been told which boy she was being married off to. She figured it was the eldest, Clay Manes. 

Clay ran the Space Force and he was still unmarried, so it made the most sense. The problem was she’d met him when they were younger and he was an asshole. He was six years older than her and still felt the need to make fun of her for whatever he could think of. As much as her mother said that meant he liked her, it simply made her hate him. It also meant he saw her as a child.

The next probable was possibly the baby, Alex Manes. He was queer and didn’t do much to hide it and his father wasn’t a fan. She wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to marry him off to a woman. Honestly, if he and Michael were okay with it, she would gladly marry him and let them carry on their relationship so that Isobel could find her own person. 

Then there was Flint Manes, the second youngest who was, honestly, probably just as unwilling to marry her as she was. At 22, he’d been the only Manes boy to never have a rumored affair in any way, shape, or form. He was married to his work and seemed totally uninterested in marriage as a whole. It seemed likely that his father would marry him off just to avoid questions.

Lastly, there was Gregory Manes. He was charismatic and kind and had new girls fawning over him ever other week. He was handsome and she wouldn’t mind staring at his face, but there were a million other choices for him and it seemed much more likely that his father would try to get him to marry another wealthy, high ranking girl on Earth. 

Isobel sat in her bridal room, staring blankly at the elaborate wedding dress. Bridal attire on Antar was typically composed of golden robes, designed to wrap around the arms and the body in a way to accentuate the bride’s favorite features. Isobel had dreamed of having it with a high slit to show off her legs. However, her husband was from Earth, and she found herself with an all white, all floor-length gown. She wasn’t a fan and thought about taking a pair of scissors to it.

Someone knocked on her door.

“Enter,” Isobel said without asking who it was. She didn’t care. She didn’t really feel like anything mattered if she was marrying a military man who she didn’t love or know. Her life was simply a political statement.

“I’ve got something,” Michael’s voice said. She turned to him quickly, thankful to see him and not one of the women that was coming to fix her hair just yet. She had more time. 

“Hug?” she asked. He smiled, closing the door behind him.

“Two things, then,” Michael said. He put a box down on the table and came closer, easily pulling her into a tight hug. “Three if you count news.”

“News?” Isobel echoed, not moving from her spot holding him despite her curiosity.

“Yes,” he said, “I’ve seen the groom. Mother asked me explicitly not to tell you because she wants it to be a surprise, so I came right to tell you.” Isobel pulled back a little, waiting for him to tell her. She was far too on edge for all of this. “It’s Gregory.”

Isobel wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to take that. Her stomach still dropped, but she was sure that would be the same no matter which Manes boy it was. But... Gregory?

“How?”

“I asked Alex and he said his father didn’t decide until last night, said he thought Greg was the most likely to get a lower class girl pregnant, so it would be easier if he was married,” Michael said, making a grossed out face as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “So I guess he’s giving you the promiscuous boy.”

“Lovely,” she sighed, a pout finding her lips, “Maybe we can make an agreement and he can sleep with whoever he wants as long as it isn’t me.”

Michael laughed, “Maybe.”

“Is that a present?” Isobel asked, trying to push away her gradually more dreadful feeling. Maybe whatever he had would bring her some semblance of joy.

“Oh, right,” Michael said, pulling away from her to go to the box. He very carefully reached inside and pulled out a crown with multiple metal tendrils with handcrafted leaves on them. Her lips parted as he brought it closer. “I made it for you. I figure you could ask them to weave your hair around it to wear it today. If they must put you in a dress from their home, then I say you wear something from yours.”

“Michael, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. It was all intricate, clearly done with more effort than just his telekinesis. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. Now you have something to give you strength to handle him.”

Michael had to leave her not long after that for her to begin to get ready. She got them to work around the crown Michael had made for her and they settled on loose waves and simple braids only to hold it to her head. They helped her into her dress and boring makeup and suddenly she was supposed to walk down the aisle.

“Spare me a moment?” she requested. The women who had helped her get ready nodded and left the room. Then she was alone.

Isobel looked at herself in the mirror and thought over what would happen if she ran away. Would they bother to look for her? If they found her, would they force her to marry him still?

Again, another knock came and she was sure it was her mother this time. She didn’t expect Max to come or Michael to come again and definitely not her father. It was going to be her mother and she was going to encourage her to go. 

Except the knocking was a little too frantic to be her mother.

“Enter,” she said, her eyebrows pulled together as she took a step towards the door. It opened quickly and then was closed just as fast. And then she was standing across from Gregory who had wild, frantic eyes. 

“Hi. I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I’m really not a big fan of the whole marriage thing that’s about to happen, so I lied and said I was getting water and then ran here,” he said. Isobel swallowed.

“Do you expect me to call off the wedding? That isn’t something I can do,” she pointed out. He shook his head.

“Yeah, no, I get that. Me neither. Look, uh,” Gregory said, pausing for a second as he looked over her, “Oh, you’re pretty in person.”

“Thank you?” Isobel said slowly. He snapped his eyes up to meet hers again. 

“Right, look. Let’s go up there, do the thing, make our parents happy, and then I move to Antar,” he decided. It didn’t ease any of her confusion. “I need to get away from my dad and I... I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask. What are your opinions on this whole marriage?”

“I’m not a... what is it, you said, a fan? I’m not one of those either,” Isobel said, crossing her arms over her chest. Gregory smiled, that little mischievous one that was the only thing all four Manes boys had in common.

“Perfect,” he said, “Then I move to Antar. That way you can be involved with the politics of your planet and I can get away from my father.”

“Why are you sure I want to be involved with the politics of my planet?”

“You don’t think I did my research on you?” he asked rhetorically, “You’re the most interested out of all of your siblings in politics and I’m not about to take that away from you. But, more importantly, I want to get away from my father.”

“And you think that’s a good idea?” she clarified.

“I want to make the most of this if I have to go through with this, don’t you? We can iron out the rest, but do you think we can make this work?”

“Do you know you’re extremely unlikable when you tell me what we’re going do?” Isobel asked, the weight of her crown reminding her who held superiority in this situation. Gregory smiled even wider.

“Well, Princess, in the future, you’re going to do all the telling, I promise you that. I’m nothing if not an obedient servant,” Gregory proclaimed. Isobel scoffed and shook her head slightly. “But, seriously, if you will just take me away from my father and let me experience freedom for once in my life, I’ll do whatever you need from me.”

“And is that a promise?”

“In holy matrimony,” he swore. Isobel scoffed again, but she agreed with a nod. He let out a relieved sigh.

“Before you leave, will you tell me something?” she said, “Are you always this jumpy?”

“Only when I’m about to marry a literal princess,” Gregory said. 

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I’ll see you at the altar,” he said, looking her over one last time, “You really look beautiful, by the way. You may not be marrying someone you love, but it is someone who thinks you’re gorgeous. I don’t know if that helps any.”

“It doesn’t,” she admitted. He grinned and nodded which did nothing to help.

“I’ll think we’ll get along just fine.”

Gregory was gone in a flash and Isobel was starting to think that maybe Michael's gift of strength might come in handy more than he'd ever know.

[sparkkeyper]

The 2020 Aro Way Challenge had a prompt "Heaven's prayer inbox room" and while that wasn't my prompt at the time, this idea never left my head. So here you go.

I did way too much math for this fic, haha.

***

Aziraphale had only been sent up to Receiving once or twice in the last few thousand years, and upon stepping through the door again in 1967, he decided at once that his opinion of it hadn't changed.

It was stark and white and open just like everything else in Heaven but it was crowded. Angels moved briskly about, carrying stacks of incoming prayers from their jingling manifestation points in boxes along one massive wall to a series of filing rooms in the opposite one. Processing desks filled the rest of the space: noting, sorting, cataloguing. Aziraphale might have liked it if it hadn't been so clean and empty, but the only thing close to decoration was a set of long white curtains down the left wall, which seemed more for texture than anything else. He got the impression that there was much more cataloguing going on than answering.

He didn't need to like it, he reminded himself. It wasn't his jurisdiction. He just needed to pick up his intended prayer and be on his way.

He walked up to the closest desk, getting bumped by three angels in the process. "Yes, hello. I'm here per Gabriel to pick up...well, I suppose it would be one of the more recent-"

"Name?" the clerk asked without looking up.

"Emilia-"

"Not the human's, yours."

"Ah. Aziraphale."

The clerk flipped through a rolodex, frowned at the card she found, and added it to a different pile on the desk. "Your prayer has already been requisitioned. It will be ready for you in thirty minutes. Please wait by the wall."

"Yes. Well. Thanks so much."

Aziraphale picked his way back to the edge of the room, doing his best not to get trampled in the crowd. After several more moments of sidestepping and pressing back into the wall, he found himself next to the long white curtains. Perhaps he could take shelter behind them, he thought wryly.

Yet another angel shouldered past and he pressed himself further into the wall until -

There was a door there. Just behind the curtain. An older style, still white but polished wood instead of metal. A single, simple plaque sat at head height.

Unnecessary

Aziraphale blinked. Heaven didn't have unnecessary doors. It was, if anything, ruthlessly efficient. So why?

He had thirty minutes, he reasoned. Clearly the Receiving angels didn't want him around. And it would be easier to stay out of the way of their work if he left the room just a few steps.

The door wasn't locked, he discovered. Few of Heaven's ever were. It opened without a sound and he ducked behind the curtain and through the opening before he could be noticed.

The hall beyond was dark. Well, nothing was truly dark in Heaven, but the light was a bit muted and that seemed a stark contrast to the brightness outside. Filling the massive interior were rows and rows of shelves identical to the ones outside in which prayers manifested - not unlike modern human post boxes. Except these were silent. Empty. No sparks of light or jingles of bells to indicate any use. No slips of paper with requests or thanks or pleas. Curiosity getting the better of him, Aziraphale slowly moved deeper into the room. His footsteps echoed in the silence.

A moldy scrap of parchment, covered in so much dust that he nearly missed it, sat in a box at about shoulder height. It looked like it must have been thousands of years old. Had Heaven missed this prayer by accident somewhere in the past? Glancing around to make sure he was alone, he pulled it out and pried it open.

Day %#&%: HOW COULD YOU?! WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?! I HATE YOU!!

He dropped the the parchment at once and stuffed it back into the box. That...surely that wasn't...

He scrubbed dust from the box's label, trying to read the sender's name. Instead of letters in any Earthly language, he found himself staring at a sigil.

An angel.

No, not an angel. Not anymore.

He stood slowly, looking around at the countless rows of empty prayer boxes. The places where the Fallen had once been stared back at him, like a graveyard.

He wandered the shelves with a strange mix of pity and dread pooling in his stomach. Here and there, the occasional box would hold only a single, ancient, dust-covered paper - their last response to the Fall. Unnecessary, the door had said. Because the Fallen did not pray. Not to God.

He was just about to turn around and head back to the main Receiving hall when a break in the pattern caught his eye. One box, all the way down by his feet, was not empty. He bent to examine it and found that it held a small stack of folded papers - not much but far more than the rest of the boxes. He rubbed away the dust on the label and was shocked to see that he recognized the serpentine sigil - he had seen it many times over thousands of years on the face of his adversary.

Crowley had prayed? The topmost paper didn't even look that old. He reached for the box but hesitated. It wasn't his place to read another's prayers. They were private correspondence. But his stomach sank as he looked around at the empty shelves. No one was hearing them, he realized. Unnecessary, said the door. The Fallen gave up a line to the Almighty when they chose to rebel and the angels ignored them accordingly.

But if a demon did choose to pray...shouldn't someone listen?

Carefully, he pulled the papers out and flipped over the stack to reveal the oldest.

Day %#&%: THAT HURT! IT STILL HURTS! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?? Do You have any idea what it feels like?? I don't want to be here, I didn't ask for this! Hello? Hello?! Are You listening?!

The symbols on the page devolved into several lines worth of furious, wordless screaming.

Okay, fine! S'pose I'm not good enough for You! Screw You anyway! You and every other miserable angel!

Aziraphale put the paper down, swallowing hard. Had God ever seen these? He suspected She interacted differently with prayers than angels did, but had She ever heard these final cries? Or had She blocked them out like the rest of Heaven had?

He unfolded the next paper.

Day 46: Well You at least did one thing right.

Odd. Aziraphale thought back hard. Days were tricky to remember near the Beginning, as he hadn't known he was supposed to be keeping track of them yet. But if his memory served, Day 46 had seen the first humans cast out of the Garden. Crowley certainly hadn't considered that 'right', whatever his definition was. The only thing he'd seemed to like at all was... 

Aziraphale felt his face heat up, remembering the demon smiling at him. Crowley couldn't be referring to him. Could he? Even if that was the case, surely he wouldn't have intentionally said so to God?

Intentionally was the key word, he suspected. It was possible to pray without meaning to - directing thoughts Upwards very hard or invoking the name of the Almighty, for instance. He doubted very much that this particular thought had been meant as a prayer.

The next one, though, definitely had been.

Day 351898: You really don't want me, do You? I know, sure Crawly, what was your first clue? The screaming dive or the sulfur bath? But I dunno, I wondered... I hoped... I mean the humans... Never mind. It's been a thousand years, more or less. I can take a hint. Who needs You anyway? Not me.

With a deep breath, Aziraphale opened the rest.

Day 365357: What are you doing? All this rain... You can't be serious?

Day 365358: StopstopstopstopSTOPSTOPSTOP!

Day 1018783: What did he do?! He was five! He had another twenty five, thirty years ahead of him! All for a row you've got going with Pharaoh?!

Day 1018783 Part B: Fuck You, fuck You, fuck You, fuck You!

Aziraphale bit his tongue hard to keep it in check. It wouldn't do to find himself agreeing with such things.

He bit it very hard.

Day 1493608: It's so quiet tonight. The stars are still so bright, all the way up there. Like it's been no time at all. ... ...do You ever miss me? ... ... ...suppose not. If You did You'd answer once in a while. ... The sky looks so vast from here on Earth. Funny. It used to look so small from above. Does it still? There's so much here. Does it all look so tiny to You? ... ... It's quiet tonight. I used to hear You in the quiet. I don't anymore. ... ... ... ...I miss You...

Day 1479943: God Almighty, that smile. How did you capture an entire sunrise in one angel's face?

Day 2078008: I thought You were supposed to be omniscient. Know everything, right? Know about him and me. If You are, why have You never told them? And why did You ask about the sword if You knew he'd- ...No. No use pressing my luck, eh? Or his. If anybody's gonna snitch its not gonna be me.

Day 2171226: God, please don't let me be too late, please don't let me be too late - You think burned feet are enough to keep me out when he's in trouble? Up Yours, You sanctimonious prick.

Day 2172585: God help them, they're going to kill themselves.

Aziraphale did some mental maths, putting the date of that last one somewhere around early August, 1945...

Oh. Yes, that made sense.

The final paper looked recent, maybe a couple months old at the most.

Day 2180588: You play a bloody confusing game, You know tha'? Spinning everybody 'round like pawns, nono, like tops, like dreidels until they dunno which way t'go and jus' fall down, and then HOPE they land on th' right side. An' if they don't well too bad, thanks for playing, they're etern'lly fucked six ways fr'm Sunday! Ingenious game design, really. You great TWAT. ... ...Okay, okay look, I'm really drunk right now. I know I shouldn't be talking t' You. I know You don't listen. An' I probably shouldn't've started off with th' insults but Jesus You don't make tha' easy, do You? Just...just don't hang up, just listen t' me this once, yeah? Look, I haven't seen him in two decades. I just...I don't want to lose whatever this is. I can't. I need SOMEBODY to talk to at the end of the day. Because fuck knows You never stop in to have a chat. So much for laying off th’ insults, I guess. Wha’ are You gonna do about it, eh? Gonna smite me when I break into Your House tomorrow? I know wha’ You’re thinking, didn’t he learn ‘is lesson from th’ burned feet? Too bad, I need tha’ water if I’m gonna keep all this safe. Joke’s on You, I’ve got a plan AND I’ve got shoes this time. I won’t ask him again. I ruined everything last time. Still not sure he wants t’ see me again, long as Nazis don’t have guns t’ his face.  Surprised You didn’t smite me when I bombed th’ church, honestly. You must know. If You're watching at all You must've seen us. ...unless You're not watching. ... ...unless You've given up on all of us. ... Please don't. Look, look, I know You gave up on me a long time ago. I've accepted tha'. Just...don't give up on th' humans. Don't give up on HIM. He still looks to You. Don't turn Your back on him. ... Fuck, I'm drunk. I've said too much. Keep ignoring me, like usual. It's safer that way.

Aziraphale folded up the last paper, his heart doing uncomfortable acrobatics inside his chest. Thousands of years and no one listening. Or, if the Almighty had ever heard, She'd left them in the empty hall to rot alone for eternity.

In an instant of decision, he gathered up the small stack of prayers and tucked them into the breast pocket of his coat. Without so much as a backward glance, he strode back through the silent hall, closed the door securely, picked up his waiting assignment from the Receiving clerk, and left.

In the deepest corner of the bookshop, inside a box-within-a-safe-within-a-cabinet that was jammed behind an Edwardian-era end table, several lamps, and twenty seven stacks of biographies (and protected by no less than seven miracles and three human locks that Knew Their Business) sat an unassuming tartan thermos. 

Aziraphale removed it with more care than he afforded even his rarest books and left the stack of papers in its place. 

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 37

Read on AO3. Part 36 here. Part 38 here.

Summary: There are only so many ways you can deliver news.

Words: 2700

Warnings: dystopia

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: I really didn't think I'd get a chapter out today, but I did, so yay!? Sorry it's a bit short (I remember when 2000 words was normal for me!), but I must be on my bullshit, as always.

Thank you very much to everyone who reached out. I had a shitty week this week, and I anticipate things in the next few weeks will not be super great. If there is a week where an update is missed, I hope you can understand.

I love y'all very much, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3

Beyond the sheet, the doctor’s shadow worked in silence, collecting instruments to soon be used to pry and expose your pomegranate flesh. Your monthly exam would never feel routine--prior to the collapse of society, they’d already been unpleasant. But now, separated from the provider by gossamer cloth, scrutinized in anonymity while metal objects cracked you wide, they crushed you in revulsion. The doctor whirled on his stool between your legs, air whispering over your bare skin. You swallowed.

A squeaking, clacking, and the cold metal of the speculum parted your labia and pierced your entrance. You held your breath, willing away the tears that pricked your sight--you’d always cried at this part, even before it became obligatory--drifting to your mind until he was finished. 

Kylo Ren had been gone for 18 days, and in his absence, Gilead had drawn from your veins, a vampire of systemic proportions bleeding you not of life, but of the will to live itself. Without his presence, his power, his capability to extract you from bondage, you’d sunk into it like a tarpit, thick sticky ooze edging ever-closer to your throat. Sutures now removed, antibiotics completed, your days consisted of waking, walking, waiting, and, more than once, weeping, before wishing yourself into a witless slumber. Not that you were surprised. After all, before you’d fucked him in secrecy the first time, you’d asked yourself, what was life without living? 

As it turned out: pretty fucking awful. 

Pain lit up your spine when the doctor dug at your cervix for a swab--you winced, and the exam room door opened.

“Hey, we’re running behind, you do you want me to grab the next one, or--”

“No, no,” your doctor replied. “I’m almost done with this one. Did you get the urinalysis back?”

“Uh, no, sorry, I haven’t checked. I can go do it now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Oh, hey.” Then he swiveled away--leaving you gaping, a red tunnel open for observation. “Did you hear what the director said this morning?”

The other man hummed in thought. “Something about Commander Pryde. I didn’t really care.”

You stared into the ceiling, hands folded over your stomach, tears stinging again while your thighs began to tremble. Privacy and respect hadn’t been afforded to you in three years; you had long been designated a womb buried in a hunk of meat. But something about having your cervix on display like the Hope Diamond was particularly nauseating. Your stomach groaned in humiliation.

“Yeah. Anyone who’s even spoken with Pryde in the last month is getting rounded up.”

Breath stalled. There was no way the doctor knew who you were--the sheet separating you ensured that. Dread iced over your chest.

“Shit,” the other man replied. “Really? Damn.” A pause, clanging of instruments. “Just questioning, right?”

“For now.” The doctor grumbled. “I just had the tenaculum. What the hell?”

“Isn’t it right over there?”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Wheels squeaked across the floor. “Anyway, it’s just a new round of Ren’s bullshit.” He sighed, scooching between your legs again. Something sharp and cold pinched you--you bit your lip. “Dissenters this, threats to Gilead that. I wouldn’t worry about it. Unless--”

A snort. “I hate the both of ‘em.” The man sighed. “You’d think that fixing the birthrate should be their top priority, the way things are going.” 

The doctor grumbled, and something pinched you like talons, shooting pain up your spine. “Yeah. Well. If Ren has his way, half the people in this country are gonna end up dead.”

Your heart was tumbling into a canyon. In the time without him, your belief in your Commander’s defection had dimmed. You’d believed initially that his motivation for Pryde’s capture was revenge--something undesirable, but still understandable--but the longer his campaign went on, the more you realized that there would be nothing that would convince him to release his stranglehold on his position. A gnawing despair within you whispered that whatever Kylo Ren felt for you, he felt it one hundredfold for power and control; convincing him to leave it behind would not only be improbable, but impossible. Yet, as you considered betraying what little affection he might have, sorrow shredded you. The thought of his capture, trial, possible execution--

More tears. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him not here, of being torn from him, of his existence in the past tense. And you also couldn’t sacrifice your freedom for his sins. 

The release of the speculum tugged you back to the exam, and you sniffled, clearing your throat. You’d missed the rest of the conversation.

“Whatever happens, at least we won’t be out of a job. They’ll always need someone to make sure the breeding stock is healthy.” A pause, as if to acknowledge that, yes, you were still in the room. “No offense, of course.”

Bile burned your tongue. You said nothing. 

“Shit, that reminds me,” said the other man. “I’ll go check the urinalysis.”

“Thanks.” 

The door shut. Without warning, latex fingers pushed inside of you, another hand pressing down on your belly. The inspection went on for seconds longer than you thought it should, his fingers curling, as if he was languishing there, reveling in the sensation of feeling your uterus. For a blink, every thought surrounding your Commander’s desertion of Gilead fled your mind, consumed by a venomous desire that he might catch this doctor in the act and crack his skull on the pearly tile, spray his blood, stain the grout. And then the intrusion was over, and your fury dissipated, the ache for retribution hollowing in your heart. 

It wouldn’t have mattered, really, if he had been standing in the room when it had happened--the doctor was no anomaly, but a functioning cog in Kylo Ren’s machine. As long as you both remained in clutches of his own creation, he would spend eternity defending you from its design. Even if you could be an exception, other women would suffer in forced silence. And even if he could mould it to your liking, it would still mean he preferred you to exist in subjugation instead of liberation.

Hope had been a security blanket almost three weeks ago, thick and warm around your shoulders while he’d bathed you with gentle hands. Now it clung in tatters to your ribs, the tiny scraps fluttering like tissue with every gust of reality.

The door opened again. 

“Hey,” the man said. “Got the results.”

A snap of rubber as the doctor removed his gloves. “And?”

“Look for yourself.”

Shuffling paper stifled the sad knock of your pulse in your ears. Perhaps you knew, and had always known, that Kylo might never come to agree with your perspective. You just frequently forgot to acknowledge that it would mean letting him go. Forever. 

“Hey! Okay!” A warm palm slapped your thigh, and you squeaked. “We got another one!”

When no one responded, you realized he had been speaking to you. About a result. A urinalysis. Another one...

You couldn’t speak. Or breathe. Oh--

“You’re pregnant!” 

Like a geyser, it burst from you--your sorrow, your fear, your disgust, your absolute joy--and poured in rivers down your cheeks, your hands clapping over your face. There was no one coherent thought that could be plucked from your mind, just a constant tornado of horrific exhilaration, a celebratory mourning that within you, a tangible testament to you and your Commander’s connection beat and pulsed and flourished with life, growing veins like vines and limbs like wings. 

His child--your child--a physical entity you could nourish in the wake of his reluctance, an unalterable legacy inside of your womb, one that you, if you were to be denied all else, could adore. Your child, but also his child, descendant to a despondent devil, progeny to a preserver of your own imprisonment. A child that, if born into the realm of its father’s regency, would never know normality, or maybe even you--at all. A heaving sob cracked through, and you shivered, trembling with terrified bliss.

The doctor slapped your thigh again. “Don’t stress!” he said. “According to the chart here, you’re about six weeks along. There’s still a chance for disruption. So I’d stay relaxed, all right?” 

Swallowing, you creaked out a noise of assent. There wasn’t a word you could bear to say. 

After the doctor left, you slipped back into your red dress and wings--despite Kylo’s words weeks earlier, you had been provided no other options after he’d left, and you suspected he’d meant for you to only be out of uniform in his presence, regardless. You were escorted by an armed nurse out of the clinic, where a Knight--still masked, no cloak, just in tactical gear--was waiting by the black SUV you’d seen a few of them in before. Averting your gaze, you climbed into the back and buckled in. The vehicle started, you coasted through the parking lot, and onto the road.

For the first time in several days, the sun was out--though it would need more than an afternoon to evaporate the muggy air that had accumulated in its absence. You gazed into the stark, cloudless sky, placing your hands on your belly, as if you could commune with the little being inside of you, know it before it knew you. A question, awful and exciting, lingered in your mind  as you imagined telling Kylo the news, but no answer revealed itself. You replayed the scenario over and over again, practicing it on your tongue--I’m pregnant--digging deep for his reaction. But it was useless, as initially unknowable as anything else about him. Anxiety constricted your heart, a dam about to crumble behind your eyes.

The Knight turned a corner, and you jostled in the backseat. There couldn’t have been much intimacy between them all. But still.

“How do you think the Commander would respond…” You swallowed again--hesitation kept wadding in your throat. “How do you think he’d respond to a pregnancy?”

Long, sweltering seconds ticked by without a word. Balling your hands in your lap, your palms slipped, heartbeat thumped in your clasped thumbs. You’d never heard a Knight say a word, before--you weren’t sure why you were expecting one to answer you. Lava licked at your neck, dripping down your spine, your teeth tearing at your cheeks. 

“Whatever it is,” the Knight said, shattering expectation, “anything in comparison will look like apathy.”

A rush of interminable origin raced your flesh, flushing hot in your blood. That was about as accurate as you could expect. And unsatisfying as you could predict.

When you arrived at home and stepped out of the vehicle, another realization crested over you. Johana. Though your relationship had settled into an uneasy truce since the day the Commander had left, the words she spared you had been few and far between. You knew that your pregnancy was possibly her only dream, but combined with the uncharted territory of her husband’s intentions, you worried it would become her nightmare. 

At the same time, perhaps these worries were unfounded--the threats Kylo would face by disrupting his Wife’s right to your child might be too great for him to risk his power. His concessions had been minor and in relative secrecy, affecting only his relationship with you--everything else had the secondary benefit of securing his reign. He’d said plenty, but how much had he meant? After overhearing the discussion in the exam room, you were fairly certain that if made to choose between Gilead and you, you’d lose.

You followed the Knight into the house, relieved to cross into central air. Taking a few slow steps, you drew a deep breath.

“Ms. Johana!” You paused, listening for a response. You heard none. “Ms. Johana?”

She wasn’t in the house--that meant she was likely out in the yard. In the heat. Sighing, you trudged through the halls through the back door, squinting as light smacked your face. In the weeks since Kylo’s departure, the garden had been cleared and mostly restored at Johana’s behest--the grass gleamed gold, summer flowers replanted in over-saturated swirls of color. You hopped over the stones, turning the words on your tongue, hoping to make them real in your mouth.

I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant. I’m--

“Ofkylo.”

You stalled, recognizing the moniker as yours, resentful of its familiarity to your ears. Beyond one of the hedges was Johana, prying open a birdfeeder. Heat--though whether it was from the sun or your fear, you didn’t know--sizzled the nape of your neck. You steeled your jaw, grabbing your skirts and tromping through the trimmed lawn in her direction.

“What are you doing out here?” There was a bag of mixed seed at her feet, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows as she wiped the feeder clean with a rag. “I thought you just left for your exam.”

“I did. I’m back,” you said. “I was, um. Looking for you.”

“Oh.” She flipped the top in her little hands, scrubbing it clean, too. “Well, that’s fine. What’s going on? They didn’t find out about the gunshot, right?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no no. That’s fine.”

“Good,” she said. “I’m tired of lying for your benefit. The antibiotics weren’t--”

“I know, Ms. Johana,” you sighed. “So…” The words were so simple, but so difficult to say. “The exam went well.”

She nodded, digging into the seed, scooping a helping. “Uh-huh.”

There was nothing that would make this any less nerve-wracking. You inflated your chest, and let it go. “I’m pregnant.”

Johana stopped, like she’d been shot herself, staring into the ground. The seed fell from her palms and spilled over her shoes. She rose, gaze drifting from your feet, to your hands, to your face, her chin shaking. A smile was threatening to explode across her lips.

“Wait.” She exhaled. “Really?”

Wagging your arms in admission, you nodded. “Yup.”

A human springtrap, she squealed, launching into you and wrapping you in a tight, bony hug. You wheezed from her strength--she squeezed you, pinning your limbs to your sides as she wriggled you like a toy. 

“Yes!” She jumped up and down, still holding you. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Yes,” you repeated. “It’s, um, it’s true!”

Johana released you, erupting with elation. “This is amazing!” she said. “Lord, I’m going to have to go see everyone. Yes, we’ll have to have a party.” She clapped her hands and hugged you again. “Can you let the Marthas know to clean this up? I have to get going.” A playful, devious smirk twisted her mouth as she skipped into the house, congratulating herself. “Oh, they’re going to be so jealous! I’m pregnant!”

You stood, staring down at your belly. It wasn’t obvious, yet--but it wouldn’t be long. The thought of Johana preening, presiding over your stomach like it was her work paralyzed your heart. Had it been any other Commander, any other household, you might have even been relieved to incubate your ticket out of the Colonies, but now, you felt only panic. You didn’t want to give this baby up to her--a desire you never would have anticipated.

But then, none of this had been anything you had the ability to anticipate. A Handmaid was not supposed fuck her Commander outside of the Ceremony, or kiss him, or wake up in his embrace. A Handmaid was not supposed to yearn for her Commander, feel comfort from his  voice, find companionship in his presence, or feel grateful for his brutality and strength. A Handmaid was not supposed to plan her Commander’s downfall, or plan his escape, and especially not plan his future with her in it.

A Handmaid was not supposed to fall in love with her Commander. But you were a Handmaid. And it was too late.

You left the empty birdfeeder and the bag of seed, slinking up the stairs, creeping back to your room. Throat, chest, face tight, you laid in bed, palms planted on your stomach, and breathed. Shutting your eyes, you hoped for the hundred-thousandth time in three years you would wake up in a different world--a world where the father of your child was not your legal owner, a world where another woman was not claiming it as hers, a world where you opened your eyes and you were not alone, and you were free, and you were truly, deservedly loved.

If you fell asleep, you didn’t know--the next thing you recalled was the familiar rumble of the Audi’s engine, dying as it rolled into the driveway.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.