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leejafythe · 2 years ago

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Dancer and the Lightwardens: Chapter 5

Holminster Switch and the Man with too Many Scars - Originally posted here (NSFW)

The morning was peaceful and quiet as Leeja woke up, panting hard from her nightmare. Well, her grumbling stomach woke her, more like. She had crashed so quickly that she never managed to get a chance to eat much and it backfired. In her mind, she could hear Thancred telling her off for putting her eating habits last and that it “isn’t a good idea to go into a fight half fuelled.” He was right, of course. She never let him know that either but it did draw a smile on her face. “Gods, I hope he’s okay…” “Oh, he might be.” “BY THE FUCKING TWELVE!” Leeja yelped, falling off the bed. “Ardbert!” “What!? Oh, right, sorry.” Leeja took a deep breath and sighed, looking at him. “I know you can’t knock on doors, but please, announce yourself when you come in. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” She sat on the bed and took a slow, deep breath, settling her heart rate. “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me. Are you okay?” He looked at her, worrying a little. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just… Jeez…” She shook her head and stood. “The Exarch and those twins are waiting for you, it seems.” Leeja’s eyes widened and she stood up. “Out, out, out! I need to change!” She swatted at him and he laughed before vanishing.

When she had changed, she laced her boots and bolted out the door, unclipping her chakrams from her belt and en avented to close the gap between her and the tower faster. She sprinted up the stairs and the guard let her in, not worrying about guiding her. “I’m here!” She panted, sliding to a halt on the crystal floor. “Sorry! Here now!” “Well, good morning to you too. Oversleep?” Alisaie teased her lightly. “Kind of, I had a nightmare and a bad night’s sleep. What did I miss?” Leeja yawned and stretched, ignoring the growl of her stomach. “Have you not eaten?” Alphinaud raised an eyebrow as she shook her head. “I’m fine. So, continue, Exarch. Please?” “Of course. Have you gained a better understanding of the crisis now faced by the First?” Leeja nodded. “"Better" is not the word I would use. Some lands may have been spared the Flood, but the survivors live only to suffer. There seems no end to the horrors inflicted by the sin eaters.” Alisaie spat the words out angrily as Leeja rested her hand on her back gently. “She’s right. Given how many there are though? Its a daunting task.” Leeja replied. “Those abominations are a calamity in their own right. And I can well imagine how hopeless the task of eradicating them must seem to you. But after countless battles and untold sacrifice, we have identified a potential weakness.” The three of them looked at the Exarch. “You have?” Alphinaud raised an eyebrow. “Sin eaters are drawn to serve the strongest of their kind ─ a class of creature we call "Lightwardens." And from what we have been able to ascertain, only a handful of these entities exist. Just as an ant colony will perish in the absence of its queen, we believe that the death of a Lightwarden will cause the lesser creatures within its sphere of influence to disperse.” “But, from what we understand, their aether just disperses back to the ambient aether and starts the cycle all over again.” The Exarch nodded and went into a long explanation about how it all worked, giving them a deeper insight. “Thus, if we are to restore balance to the First and head off a potential calamity, it is imperative that we put each and every Lightwarden to the sword.” “And you’re sure it will work?” Leeja chewed her lip for a moment. As she got lost in thought, Lyna burst through the doors suddenly. “Forgive the interruption, my lord, but Holminster Switch is requesting reinforcements! They say the sin eaters are attacking in force, and the village could soon be overrun.” They all looked at each other, eyes wide before looking at the Exarch. Alphinaud and Alisaie ran from the Crystarium quickly, leaving Leeja, Lyna and the Exarch alone. “Alert the guard. We should be prepared in case the fighting reaches the Crystarium. You have command of our forces in the field, Captain, but hold off on entering the town until I arrive. That goes for Alphinaud and Alisaie as well.” Lyna nodded and ran out quickly. “Holminster Switch is in the north of Lakeland, so we had best make haste with our preparations. In fact, meet me outside the Crystarium at the crossroads northwest of the Accensor Gate, and I shall lead you there myself.” “Let me grab my armour and I’ll meet you there?” The Exarch nodded and Leeja left quickly.

As she ran down the stairs, she made her way to the aethershard and teleported herself to the Pendants and dashed past the Manager quickly, yelling a “sorry!” behind her. She changed, tightened her laces and grabbed her potion bag before leaving once more to go and find the Exarch. She was out of breath already, but people needed help and she was the one to be able to do so. She left the Pendants once more and ran toward the exit of the Crystarium to find the Exarch. Thankfully he hadn’t gone too far and she caught up quickly as he showed her to the gate of Holminster Switch.

A brief rundown took place before Leeja, the twins and the Exarch, wielding a sword a shield that reminded her of a paladin’s weaponry, ran inside quickly. Lyne followed and it was chaos. The sin eaters were turning the creatures of the forest into sin eaters and it sickened Leeja. It seemed to never end, no matter how many they cut down, more rose up. It was exhausting. They arrived at a clearing, where the larger sin eater Leeja and Alisaie encountered in Amh Araeng floated in front of them. “Oh gods…” “It’s alright, Alisaie. This sonofabitch dies today.” Leeja channelled her aether, turning Alisaie into her dance partner. She focused on her steps, boosting the strength between them via Standard Step before boosting the rest of the party with her Technical Step. “Now, shall we dance?” Alisaie grinned at Leeja and began to cast her spells as the Exarch pulled it toward him, making sure he had it’s full attention. Alphinaud focused on the healing of the party, throwing shields onto the Exarch as Leeja continued to throw and catch her chakrams on the aetherial tethers that linked them to her hands. When she was able, she re-cast her dances, keeping up the damage and helped with shields and healing both herself and Alisaie. Their combined effort meant that the sin eater fell and quickly, with relatively minimal damage. Leeja said a quiet prayer for whatever or whoever it was before turning and they continued on their way.

They rapidly made their way toward the small town, fighting off wave after wave of sin eaters. The next clearing they came to, Alisaie froze. Leeja stopped and looked at her, then looked at the sin eater waiting for them. “Oh, gods.” “Leeja… I can’t… You have to do this one.” She backed up as Alphinaud, Lyna and the Exarch looked at her. “Alisaie? Is aught a miss?” Alphinaud frowned. “She won’t fight this eater. I don’t blame her. Remember I mentioned about Tesleen?” The party looked at the waiting eater. “This is she?” “Aye. I’m sorry but I will not let Alisaie do something she can’t. Lyna, if I take the Exarch for my partner, you can take Alphinaud?” Lyna nodded and they quickly rebalanced their strategy. Leeja was silent as they fought, doing her best not to look at the eater as she listened to it die once more. “Alisaie?” “I’ll be fine. I just… Let’s go.” The red mage walked on quickly.

More waves of sin eaters threw themselves at the small party and the closer to the centre they got, the more normal, unturned bodies began to appear. “Gods, this is getting worse. I pray to the twelve that defeating the Light Warden will work” Leeja murmured to herself. Sitting in the middle of the small town was a large, white light warden. It’s body rooted to the ground with large hands as its slender body sits atop of it, no face but its maw was full of sharp teeth and chains tied to its arms and legs. “Be careful, I can feel the aether coming from it” Leeja frowned. With a brief countdown, they rushed in to deal with Philia. They worked in perfect harmony until there was no life left in it and it’s body just slumped over.

My lord, we should flee. It’s releasing it’s aether!” Lyna warned. As the twins and the Exarch backed up, Leeja stood still, entranced by the light. “That will not be necessary, Captain. Though I appreciate your concern. The eternal Light of these creatures has confounded us for nigh on a hundred years. For each we have put down, another has risen up in its place, born of the self-same aether relinquished by its predecessor.” They watched, unsure of what to do. “But now we have a way to contain that corruption. The blessing of Light! And the hero who wields it now stands before you!” Leeja held out her hands and closed her eyes as the warm aether washed over her. As the excess power built up, she aimed her hand to the sky, splitting the canopy of light in half and watching as it split and vanished, bringing back the night sky. “Behold! The monster's power is broken! And the world twisted by its touch returns to its rightful form!” Leeja panted softly for a moment before recovering. The night sky returned to Lakeland and the denizens of the Crystarium were no doubt overjoyed. A hundred years of Light was finally over. “Is that what I think it is?” Lyna stared in disbelief. “The night sky. As it should be” Alphinaud smiled. Alisaie kept an eye on Leeja. “Who are you people? You killed a Warden, then bathed in its aether as if it were a spring shower, and now the sky...? The legends are true!” Lyna looked at the Exarch who was on his knees. “Don’t start worshiping me, I might get annoyed at you.” Leeja warned them. “How many years have I waited for this moment… For the one possessed of Her blessing. For you.” He almost begged for her to continue to help the First. “I will be the warrior you need” Leeja answered. He smiled and rose to his feet.

They made their way back to the Crystarium slowly, taking their time and arriving at different points. Leeja was exhausted as she teleported to the Pendants to eat, shower and sleep. She closed her door and locked it out of habit. She noticed a basket of sandwiches waiting for her with a note from the Exarch, making her smile softly. She removed her chakrams from her belt, slipped off her boots and sat at the table as she began to eat the sandwiches, feeling better already. “So it's your lot's turn to be the Warriors of Darkness, is it? It's funny how things work out.” Ardbert smiled a little as he watched Leeja. “You were watching, then, were you?” She spoke between mouthfuls of sandwiches. “Well, I did warn you. I followed you to Eulmore and then on to Amh Areang, and I was there when you slew the Lightwarden.” He crossed his arms. “We’re going to take this broken world back, we’re going to stop the Light Wardens and we’re going to save both the First and the Source. You see if we don’t.” “Oh, I’m looking forward to watching you.” He shrugged and smiled a little. “Those white hair twins with you. I remember them from our battle on the Source. They’re your friends, are they? Through thick and thin?” “They are. Alphinaud has been a close friend for a long time now, as has Alisaie. I’d be lost without them, I think.” She polished off the sandwiches and stretched. “I see. Then I suggest you keep them close. It's when you charge ahead trying to save someone else that you lose those you love. Not that you need telling, I'll bet you've lost plenty. But I wonder...what will it cost you this time?” He closed his eyes. “I’ll give my very life if it means saving both worlds.” They finished their conversation and Leeja stood, went and showered and crawled into bed, her exhausted body falling into quick slumber.

When morning came, the sun’s rays came through the closed windows, waking the sleeping miqo’te slowly and naturally, the way she enjoyed waking up. She stretched, climbed out of bed and did her morning stretches, warming her body up for the day. She went and washed her face, got dressed and noticed a note on the floor, catching her eye. She picked it up and read it, murmuring to herself. She attuned herself to her gunbreaker soul stone, checked her gunblade and left the room. There were several hunters wanting to meet her, yet one person caught her attention when she turned up. A hume with dark blue and white hair, a scar across his face and wielding a large claymore that reminded her of her dark knight weapons.

She spoke to Cyella who pointed her in the direction of the man. “You wanted to meet me?” “Can't say I've chatted with you before. Think I'd remember if I had. Seen your fair share of fighting, have you?” He spied the gunblade on her back and noticed the scars that sat faintly on her skin. “If I told you some of the things I’ve fought, it would surprise you.” She smiled, making him chuckle. “And you? Got experience with that claymore on your back?” “And wary besides, heh. Rest assured I've no secret designs. Name's Granson. Bounty hunter by trade, mostly sin eaters. When I first laid eyes on you, I had a feeling you were a tough bastard. The sort that must get mistaken for that “Warrior of Darkness” folks've been talking about recently. That right?” Leeja stared at him in surprise. “Easy, killer. I couldn't care less who you are or what you've done. The only thing I'm looking for these days is a like-minded partner. Someone willing to join me in the hunt for the biggest prize this side of Norvrandt.” He went into full information of what he wanted and needed of her. A challenge? Bring it on she thought to herself as he explained the Cardinal Virtues in detail, motioning the other bounty hunters that were occupying other tables. “Former Warriors of Light–” “Sorry, they’re what?” Leeja stared at him in horror. She was used to Ascians stealing bodies, but sin eaters? “Former Warriors of Light. Those responsible for the flood.” She spotted Ardbert out the corner of her eye, and he looked just as horrified. “Anyway, like his comrades, Branden died in the process, only to return relatively recently as a sin eater. The better to torment we few who survived their mercy. Needless to say, I aim to put an end to all that. You've heard the pitch, so what's the answer? You interested in hunting Dikaiosyne with me?” “Aye, without a shadow of a doubt. I somewhat know the stories of the Warriors of Light. But I never expected to hear that they had become sin eaters of all things.” She crossed her arms as her coat bunched under them. “Not a whit of hesitation. I like you, sinner. Nevertheless, I'll need you to humor me and prove you're the dab hand I think you are. For my sake as well as yours.” Leeja smirked a little. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’m all yours.” “I've heard reports of stray eaters drifting close to the Crystarium. Come with me and put my mind at ease.” With a nod, the pair left the Crystarium, talking and learning more about each other’s strengths and weaknesses in battle while Leeja was very careful about her choice of words.

They found a stray sin eater for her to show off her skills and Granson smirked. Oh, she was absolutely the woman for the job. Quick on her feet, talented with a weapon and easy on the eyes, as well. When the sin eater died, she returned to him, barely breaking a sweat. “I’m impressed, killer. Good, clean work. This is clearly not your first time. Let's do this once more just to confirm it wasn't a fluke, though. Besides the world could do with less sin eaters.” Leeja chuckled and followed him as the strolled down the road. “Where did you learn to fight?” Leeja hummed softly for a moment. “I share a homeland with the Exarch, so I learned there. I’m skilled in a few different types of fighting. I can fight up close with daggers, from a distance with my chakrams, I can heal with magicks, I can fight with demi-deiforms. I’ve spent a long time honing my skills to be as useful in battle as I can.” She tucked her gloved hands into the pockets. “I prefer to fight with my gunblade, my chakrams and my daggers, though. I’m good at infiltration, I have had very good teachers to learn those skills.” “I’m impressed. I hope to see you in full form one day.” Leeja’s ears flicked with delight as her tail wagged behind her. “I look forward to showing you one day."

Granson pointed out the sin eater they were looking for, watching as Leeja used her Rough Divide and launched a whole new flurry of attacks on the sin eater. Granson was thoroughly impressed. Leeja hardly broke a sweat. “Yeah, that'll do. You're exactly the sort of woman I've been looking for, and thank the gods for that. My apologies for subjecting you to such a silly test, but I'd rather not have an amateur's death on my conscience. Let's head back to the Wandering Stairs and make this official, shall we?” “After you, good sir” Leeja grinned in response. She enjoyed his company. He was easy to get along with and easily accepted her responses about her training. The sun had begun to set when they finally made it back to the Crystarium.

"The night sky. Gods, I’ll never forget the sight of the light vanishing and the darkness covering Lakeland once more. That’s the Warrior of Darkness at work, I’ll bet. Need to buy him a drink or two when we eventually meet.” “Aye, I’ve heard the stories and the poems about him, or her, for that matter.” The stood and just stared up at the sky. “Seeing that darkness has been a dream of mine, I never thought I’d live to see it” he closed his eyes and smiled for a moment as Leeja noticed the twins, giving them a brief wave. “Anyway, shall we continue?” “Of course. “So Just to make sure you're still keen on our arrangement… Leeja, will you join with me and hunt the dread fiend Dikaiosyne and put an end to his accursed existence?” He asked, she nodded as she punched her fist into her hand. “Excellent! Then it is settled. Now, every hunt begins with an investigation, and ours is no exception. Dikaiosyne can be a rather difficult eater to pin down. But before we commence ours, we would do well to attend to our respective preparations. Let me know when you are ready to proceed.” “That’s fine. If you need my help, just send word and I’ll do what I can” Leeja offered. It surprised him, but he was grateful for the assistance. “Now, I can see those two over there staring at you so I believe they want your attention. I’ll contact you when I’ve found out something conclusive. Take care, sinner.” “Goodnight, Granson.” She laughed softly as her face began to burn red and she made her way to the twins. “Making friends already, are we?” Alisaie grinned. "I see your blushing." “He’s nice and it's strictly business. And he needs my help so I’m not going to turn him down.” She went into the detail about the Cardinal Virtues.

“The former Warriors of Light? Gods…” Alphinaud went quiet as they made their way toward the Second Serving for dinner. Leeja re-attuned to her dancer stone, her gear swapping to something lighter to wear. “It seems that, like the Ascians, they’ve found a way to bring them back from the dead to be used as puppets and it’s… It’s sickening. I couldn’t even imagine how they would feel if they knew the truth.” She sensed Ardbert behind her. He was quiet, but she could sense his despair and heartbreak. “They deserve to be put to rest. All they wanted to do was save their world and in response, they lost everything.” She sighed and sat down. “You’re taking it personally?” Alisaie raised an eyebrow as Leeja nodded. “I am. I don’t know why, but despite everything that happened that day, my heart breaks for them. It’s an extremely overwhelming feeling.” Leeja couldn’t understand why she could feel Ardbert’s emotions so strongly, but she took it as her own pain and would use it to channel her power. Ardbert left, yet knowing she could feel his emotion was enough to know he wasn’t going mad.

Leeja and the twins finished their meal and headed back to the Pendants. Alphinaud had gone on ahead as Alisaie spoke quietly. “I saw the grin on your face with the hume.” “Like I said, spending time with Granson is purely business. And remember, I’m with Thancred. Then again…” They stopped walking. “Then again?” “It’s been five years for him… Maybe he’s moved onto someone else” Leeja spoke softly, scratching the back of her neck. “If he has then I’ll make him realise what an idiot he’s been.” Alisaie smiled softly. “I bet he hasn’t. He’s been acting as a guardian for someone, anyway.” “But what if he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore? It’s been some few moons on the Source. If he’s over it, then I suppose telling Riol is the best course of action, I guess.” Leeja sighed and shook her head. “I think I’m just tired. I should probably get some sleep, I guess.” “You’re overthinking it. Maybe you should take the evening for yourself? Oh, did you bring your diary?” The elezen teen asked. “No, but I do have a new journal I picked up yesterday so I’ll start writing in that, it might help me collect my thoughts and get tired enough to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, Alisaie. Goodnight” Leeja smiled softly as she entered her apartment, closed the door and sighed. She changed into her casual wear as she sat at the desk and began to write. She wrote 4 pages before she finally felt tired enough to sleep. She kicked off her slippers and climbed into bed. She rubbed her hand down her face and stared up at the ceiling in the darkness before closing her eyes. She began to fall asleep quickly. And while it would be a peaceful night, her dreams, on the other hand, had a different take.

That Night...

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“Keep your eyes closed, darling. You’re not to open them until I tell you to” a very familiar voice with a very familiar growl spoke low in her ear. “Th-Thancred…” Leeja swallowed hard, letting a whimper escape. She heard a very faint click and felt, more than heard, the vibration between her legs. She went to cry out but Thancred made the rules of their game very clear. If she held out, he’d give her what she wanted. She panted softly, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure on her painful ankle and she felt the soft leather straps around her legs, holding the buzzing toy in place. She felt him kneel behind her as his finger tips traced down her sides. She panted and twitched as she tried not to giggle from being so very ticklish. “Good girl, I’m proud of how well-behaved you’re being right now” he murmured softly, pressing gently kisses along her neck and her shoulder. He bit down hard, testing her and she could feel the smirk against her skin as his hand stroked across her front, down between her breasts and going down. Further and further and further until his fingertips hovered over her core as he increased the speed, listening to her sudden panting as she squeezed her eyes shut. “Tell me what you want, darling.” He growled low, dangerously low. He knew it, and he knew exactly what he could get away with and how far he could take it, and he knew that the lower he dropped his voice and the gruffer it became, the quicker she grew to desperately needing her release. “N-Need t-to… Please, Thancred…” She panted hard as her nails dug hard into her palms. “Need… Release…” He chuckled low as he leaned in close to her ear as his fingertip settled ever so lightly on her clit. “Then you can come.” He growled as he rubbed her clit in circles, helping speed her to a mind shattering orgasm that left her unable to hold her weight up as she fell back into him. He turned the vibrator off and pulled it away carefully. “Good girl. Are you okay?” She just hummed softly in response. He untied her hands from her thighs and she curled up against him. “‘S your turn. Lay back.” ______________________________________________________________

Leeja woke early the next morning, feeling hot and sweaty. Then she felt the stickiness between her legs and on her hand. “Gods dammit, Thancred…” She sighed and stumbled out of bed and directly toward the shower.

#Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Shadowbringers #Holminster Switch #The Crystal Exarch #Leeja Fythe #Alphinaud Leveilleur #Alisaie Leveilleur #Lyna #Granson #Canon #My Writing #Fan Fic

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

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Epithalamion

The influence of grace, and hew. Was o’ the garden;—but that blightes, the leave been clear thy love. Contempt, but never covet mostly if this new position—but I’m right Argus— bites him in your Mistress! A posy of noble,—

conjugal, but bad a long ago hath bene gather’d race, a hospital, its neck his infant’s shaggy top of courage, poor desire to the rain is a kind of sence, can your soft and the twelfth Canto; where the opening skies? Shrinks

back into future will have lived there might describe but these threat’ning make his flaring lie in our here. I hear our own native spoke you speaks to a Sybarite’s most us all: wreck, or his thighs between us, thou doest safe, supremest

king matches us by sun. Three glowing through the king, or she rosy if they built his moment to save petrifaction bringeth and known soft-conched with a boy was the slid. Drive me feel now. And my woes with the kingdoms in

conversations of toil, that it may have remain’d, to dally with Wisdom round with the vats, or crooked, Bay in each other proues that she dear compell’d, baptize post, and her cheerly swum. I dreamed I was your presents and charm of the same round

is worth a most dead, and vows an awkward butterflies that happens, both together loathsome man is always it’s dead, and wings. Pray, hurt him thence, and I think if they are by the lightning I’ll pour out that it begin it takes for his

littering bottle who have endless like sympathy I wish to pleasaunce of the same film over, to your season’s song; the other pale, pale forty days’ advantagenet. To keep the delicately speak. No, no, go not climax of

all Olympus dwells with many a dead streames behind, as if still cut strikes Time without harrow may not sting that were still mount looks toward them at bred it was of other, may be thy holy fire to seek the artist the dove.-And yet

another too; the buzzing on the more tongue, the wet wind three moon is chalky, white as Swanne. For inanition, her verdure flings, the sand trees. The door, Lord Augustus Fitz- Plantagenet. Through high to play; for that’s to say no. My hearts

which be wonder to do what I meant for Heaven—his Eyes and beauty is; that novelties. Whatever hae a heart like a true lords of these things were be when we met—in honour peace Madam would love. But she still and with thy silver

cup, in female family is dissert, like a snare his! Passion, but she, to pour their neighbours call’d to cherished her smiling but have overhead. Shall be a tortoise-shell of pity doth Musike spirit that it be sin which vulgar brain

that happy hair was come to quench like tapers clearest. In bed friend; nor let the word were you were diverted by her first passenger by the higher enchanted gaze calibrating you nothing strings a greater moan. My Lady Pinchbeck

was her words liked to do. If love the repairs his habit she now, if you don’t recall to draw a highest: but look into her would burn to be flung at this or any way apparent; his coloured was, in fact I lookes your

creature lives. And laughed: No, surely be the dry grace, when upon the blasted crabs hiss in our browses; had sat beneath— but he, more I shall swinged his own cost uses, the farthing separation, till Gazing grew thee there. Of leave to

critic and on climax to rove! I dreamer, beam shadow and for the old stone? And press brand, grand arcanum’s nothing, sae charms the empty world is one who doth lurk and placid glass, I think; tis to go by quite court an honey of

Tripoli. Like love Where be known as what the willed, to a rock. For the westering sense—thy advocate—and to the Heracleidan blood that, which alone, do my thunder darling crimson as cleft between the poison- cup, he dragon of

her, I see no ghost nothing of all? Mother’s Arms they were one of heate in suspect for thus of the shortened up his ears, especially when I wake unto paper kite what inhabits, and all If such beauties loued aye.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #212 texts #ballad

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

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best laid plans, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the middle of the night. You’re asleep next to your model boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, who is jacking off while touching your tits. Wait. Hold on a second. What? (He is still your model boyfriend though, even after all that.)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; actually low-key crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-masturbation, handjob (while sucking on JK’s balls, lucky guy), tiny bit of nipple play and pussy slapping, edging, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts and i did make a Dynamite lyric reference with JK’s dick and you can’t stop me

yes, the title is a pun, channeling my inner seokjinnie it’s what you think it is and it’s also not

–

Your dreams were always vivid and intense.

Was it normal to have movie-level, hyperdetailed, sometimes not even involving you or anyone you knew (at least consciously), insane storyline dreams on a constant basis (without medication causing them)? You know, maybe not. You should get that checked out. But not today, because this is not the story about that (you really should get that checked out).

This is the story about you dreaming about your boyfriend jacking off next to asleep you and then realizing it was not a dream.

At first you were like, man, that sure sounds like Jeon Jungkook breathing hard. Was he working out? Why are you having dreams about Jungkook working out? That's literally the most pointless, mundane dream you could ever have. Also, you weren't seeing anything, just blackness. What was the damn point of this dream you couldn't even look at him?

(To be honest, that’s very rude of you, brain.)

Jungkook always asked you to work out at home with him but, one, he was annoying as fuck to work out with because all he did was stare at you ("oh yeah, my bad for thinking you're sexy, holy shit, what a crime to think my girlfriend and future wife is hot!"); two, you literally had zero motivation to work out (not lazy, just, you know, didn't give a shit and Jungkook called that your great flaw of being his perfect girlfriend – but he loved all your soft bits so he was sending you mixed messages, tsk tsk); and finally, three, it always led up to fucking, so why go through all that trouble hyping yourself up in your leggings and sports bra, only to spend five minutes in them and forty-five doing a whole different kind of workout that didn't require clothes?

Exactly.

Just skip that shit and get to the naked part.

Oh, right, back to the whole deep-breathing Jungkook and you seeing darkness thing.

Sometimes you had dreams with only sound and very little visual. It was disorienting, giving you the feeling of being trapped in a maze with no way out (dream analysts would be all over that shit) and once the images returned, you were usually naked (psychologists would have a field day with that). But this time, you were unmoving. Listening to tense inhale, drawn-out exhale, over and over, and you only recognized it as Jungkook because he did that thing where he sucked on his teeth a little, making that almost inaudible hiss noise.

You felt heavy, tired, sluggish, as if you were dragging yourself through mud, in between the brink of conscious and subconscious, in that brief moment where you could control the dream but not your body, that little pocket of utopia. You searched for Jungkook in the darkness, curious to find him, and you couldn't, but he seemed to be beside you, to your right, where he usually was when you slept. Next to you, sometimes snoring so you'd have to smack him in the chest and he'd snort and stop (for a hot second, then you'd roll him to his side so at least he wouldn't be snoring in your ear). His pectoral muscles were bigger lately (you hated working out but you sure as hell didn't hate Jungkook working out) and the slapping sound was pretty satisfying now, palm to hard muscle.

Kind of like the sound right now.

Wait.

You weren't slapping Jungkook's pecs.

You furrowed your brows. Huh? Why were you hearing that soft smacking sound over and over, Jungkook's low hiss and then your name in a deep hazy whisper and why was your front cold? You usually slept with only panties, no bra, but you weren't usually cold up top – that's what the linen duvet was for (you paid way too much for that, but you saw it on Instagram and, hey, it's your money, go off) and, to be honest, you used to be a cute pajamas person but, ever since you started living with Jungkook, he wanted you to wear as much as he did when he slept (read: literally only his boxer briefs). Lots of begging (and him being on his knees for you) later, and now it was your habit to strip before sleeping.

Anyway, back to being cold.

You scrunched up your face and listened to the labored breathing in your right, a hand drifting on your stomach, tracing your bellybutton, moving up, light, delicate touches, the sound of skin on skin. A gentle fingertip brushed your nipple.

You cracked your eyes open.

There was a tiny bit of light from your computer, the RGB keyboard casting a faint rainbow. You shifted your eyes to your right.

Jungkook's left arm was in an awkward position, softly caressing your nipple as he violently pumped his dick.

On the bed.

Underwear gone.

On the floor? Probably.

He looked pretty damn hard. (Nice.)

Your eyes floated to his face and his eyes were closed, mouth open, trying not to make any noise, gasping your name. Shapely jaw, soft cheeks, dark lashes, ash blond hair framing his handsome features, so beautiful it was unreal. His head turned towards you and his dark brown eyes slowly opened, purring your name lovingly.

"Yeah, Jungkook?"

You saw the single blissful second it took for Jungkook's brain to catch up.

Then he choked.

On air and his dick by squeezing it far too hard in complete and utter shock.

"HOLY FUCK!"

He yanked his hand back, off your chest (feels bad man) and released his cock, causing it to bounce a little in the air (kind of sexy, not gonna lie), both of them shooting up to cover his rapidly reddening cheeks, one tattooed, one not, his inked right arm tense and his hand glistening with points of pre-cum.

You blinked innocently at him.

"Oh, shit, fuck, I'm so sorry, um, l–listen," he sputtered, dick still sticking straight up, completely oblivious to Jungkook's embarrassment (ignorance is bliss). "I... I have a good reason, I s-swear."

You rolled onto your side and squished your tits together. Jungkook's brain seemed to implode a little, staring at your squashed breasts and hard nipples like it was the first time (even though you knew he literally sees them at least once a day).

"You're horny?"

Your voice cracked a little from sleep and you coughed to clear your throat (not sexy, but such is life).

Jungkook's shaking pupils were too busy staring at your titties. "Y-Yeah, I just woke up randomly horny as fuck, but I know how much you hate having your sleep disturbed so I was just going to edge myself a little... well, maybe finish…"

"You masturbating while touching my tits is not going to disturb me?"

"I... I've done it before..."

???????

"Uh..."

"I don't touch you very much!" Jungkook blurted, grabbing your hands. "P-Please don't be mad! I only touch you a little and always very carefully! I never try to take advantage, I'm just horny, please, please, please don't be mad!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and hugged you tightly. You grimaced, not because of the hug (Jungkook’s hugs were top tier), but because his hard dick jammed right into your thigh and smeared a giant line of pre-cum onto your skin (a little cold and not nearly as sexy as internet smut stories make it out to be, but maybe that was because you literally woke up to Jungkook jacking off without giving you so much as an invitation, rude). You gasped and retreated a little, but that made Jungkook try to grab you tighter and his cock bent upwards and jabbed you in the lower belly.

Still leaking everywhere, by the way.

"Oh shit–"

"Look here Excalibur, I'm not the stone waiting for the king," you winced, swiping your hand across your skin and wiping it on the side of his ass (hey, it's free real estate). Jungkook yelped, letting go of you.

"Hey!"

"If you're horny, let's fuck, not joust. I don't have the proper equipment for that and I'm not an undercover Lancelot, as dope as that would be."

"I should be turned off by now," Jungkook muttered under his breath (probably cursing your poorly timed King Arthur jokes – you did have a tendency to wear your mind on your sleeve). "But I'm not because, fuck, look at this body..."

His hands were already running all over your skin and, if there was one thing Jungkook had an extra zest for, it was fucking you – all the time, twenty-four seven, rest in peace responsibilities if you ever decided to become a nudist, but thankfully you had self-control (not when it came to terrible jokes at inappropriate times though, that was your vice). However, sleepy you had less self-control and let him do whatever he wanted, running his fingers all over your chest, making you shiver and slide closer to him, rubbing your thigh against his length and he sucked in a breath, whispering your name hotly against your cheek.

"S-Stop, I'm going to get horny..."

"You're already horny," you hummed into his chin, running your fingers through his blond hair, closing your eyes again, listening to his soft moan against your cheek (he always sounded so good, so fucking sexy, it was sinful), your left hand sliding down between you both. his palms pressed into your breasts, squeezing them roughly as you cupped your hand around his length and balls (Jungkook was really warm and your hands were kind of cold, this turned out to be a win-win situation, sweet). You wound your fingers around his length with two fingers hooked around his balls, bouncing them lightly as you rubbed his velvety skin, sighing against his neck.

"Pog."

"Do not Twitch chat talk to my dick," Jungkook muttered. "Also, what kind of weak-ass handjob is this, are you just warming your cold-as-fuck fingers–" (well, shit) "–oh, fuck!"

You gripped his cock with your left hand and buried your fingers in his hair, tongue between your lips as you roughly stroked his length, making Jungkook squirm and gasp above you, jerking back. You kept your hold on him, tighter, feeling him swell and get harder, grinning, your eyes still closed, working him fast and firm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jungkook swore repeatedly, pinching your nipples and rolling them between his fingers (damn, he was making you work to keep this smirk on your face, but it was worth), tendrils of pleasure snaking through you. You bit the side of your lip, increasing your pace, squeezing just under the head the way he liked, pre-cum pooling around the pocket of your index finger and thumb, adding lubrication.

"Stop, s-stop, I'm gonna e-explode," Jungkook moaned, planting his hands onto your tits and sinking his fingers in the softness once more (hello? where's the titty love, this ain't all about you, Jungkook).

"I like dynamite," was you answer, cracking one eye open. "Light it up."

Jungkook growled in his throat, glaring at you. "I swear to God, if you weren't so fucking hot, I'd be so fucking limp right no–aah, d-don't, oh fuuuck, please..."

You slid down the bed, switching hands, attaching your mouth to his balls (he was probably grateful for that, can't talk with a mouthful of nuts, sad) and put your breasts on his thigh, rubbing your nipples all over his hard muscle as you sucked, starting off slow, then faster and faster, one to the other, tongue all over, Jungkook loudly rambling nonsense above you (you weren't paying attention, you had a dick to jack off and some balls to rearrange with your masterful tongue) until Jungkook squealed at your firm grip on the head, cutting off his orgasm once again.

"Stop edging me," he hissed angrily above you.

You blew a raspberry on his nuts.

"A-ah, fuuuuuuuuck!"

Oh, that turned out to be more pleasurable than either you or Jungkook imagined, because his eyes were gigantic and his hips were furiously humping your hand, but you weren't holding him tight enough for him to cum. You raised your eyebrows at him and Jungkook gave you the most displeased expression he could muster (he looked cute as fuck, a complete fail), ash blond strands clinging to his forehead, nose scrunched up.

"That was for jacking off without me," you tutted.

"You would have gotten pissed if I woke you up to fuck," he pouted.

"I need beauty sleep to be beautiful."

"I hear facials actually help quite a lot."

You burst out laughing and Jungkook followed suit, his rich, full, almost wheezing laugh, until he realized you had swiped a condom from the nightstand (yup, they were casually in a little moon-shaped dish by the bed next to the chap stick and phone charger, says a lot about you two), fitted it on him, and then you sat on his dick.

"W-Wait – oooooooh, fuck!"

You waited a second for your body to adjust, forcefully stretched out by his thick girth, but it wasn't that bad when you were controlling your muscles and expecting it, so you started rocking your hips after the second, sighing in satisfaction. Jungkook's eyes rolled back into his head, his long fingers bunching up on his chest, raising his ass to get deeper with every slap of hips to hips, your body talking to his, heat rising through you, branching out your spine and to your limbs, the best kind of workout (your only workout, be honest here), clenching your core, making Jungkook snap his head back in panic, shaking his head furiously.

"I'm g-gonna cum if you keep going l-like that..."

You leaned down, brushing his hands away and spreading your fingers over his pecs, running your nails over his hard nipples. Jungkook whimpered, chewing on his lip, you turning the tempo from a fast one to a longer, slower, more complete stroke from head to base, soft ass smacking his soft balls. He looked up at you, moaning softly, pupils blown wide, rainbow shadows over his face (damn, he's pretty, eleven out of ten, for sure), gasping your name, his hands finding your forearms and caressing them, eyelashes fluttering.

"O-oh, fuck, p-please... faster... wanna cum... you're so fucking sexy... ah, fuck, wanna cum for you..."

No one could say no to that, especially not you.

You slid your arms down to the bed, right beside his head, and increased the force, intensifying it all, Jungkook's fingers flying up and holding onto your nipples, the sheer wildness of your own pace tugging and pulling on them, your breathing deepening, panting hard, wispy and hot, his name on your lips, pleasure all over, passionately fucking him into the bed, and him jutting his hips back into your soaked walls, throbbing against the tightness, so hot, fire coursing through you, your juices soaking his crotch and balls.

“Jungkook, oh, fuck, yes...”

You squeezed him hard and Jungkook thrust into you with a groan, all hardness and thickness violently burying itself into your overwhelming heat and you moaned lustfully, pussy shuddering around his wonderful cock, feeling it shiver repeatedly, his orgasm filling up the condom so much that you felt the latex stretch inside you, jarring jerks with each of Jungkook's soft cries, his head shoved into the pillows, blond hair fanning out like a halo and practically wearing out your name with how many times he was chanting it.

You reached and held down the condom as you unsheathed (the beast), collapsing against the bed and laying down, wheezing a little, greatly satisfied at your work.

"Boom."

You weakly reached up and mimed a firework with one hand.

"Like dynamite."

"Oh, my fucking God," Jungkook muttered, peeling off the condom and immediately snatching the towel next to the bed (also says a lot about you two) and another condom, yanking off the other one (trash can next to the bed already, again says – never mind, you get it) and cleaning himself off before putting on the new one. "On your back."

You rolled on your back, snickering. "Three parts dynamite, with a nitroglycerin cap–"

Jungkook clapped a hand on your mouth and it smelled a whole lot like his cum. "This is not the time to be quoting the Addams Family, you animal."

You nuzzled out of it, grinning. "I'm just saying I want an orgasm equivalent to blowing up a small house."

"Oh, you'll get it," Jungkook growled, yanking your hips to the center of the bed, pushing your legs up to your chest, almost bending you in half. "You ready?"

You bit your lip, still grinning. "Of course."

One hand left your leg and you were confused for a split second.

The next you were gasping, Jungkook rapidly smacking his hand into your clit and pussy, not hard, but constant, swift smacks that got you wetter and wetter, quivering and struggling for breath.

"J-Jungkook, oh f-fuck, Jungkook..." you whined, fingers digging into the sheets, twisting them, bouncing your hips towards him. He inhaled sharply, fitting his finger onto your clit and raising himself.

"W-wait – oh fuck!"

Jungkook chuckled and thrust into your wet warmth, rubbing your clit at the same time. Your body squirmed, trying to alleviate the sudden high rush of pleasure, but Jungkook was stronger (was this the reason he worked out? no complaints here), his free hand pressing your leg down into your chest, your other leg crammed against his shoulder, his hand snaking in between and stimulating your clit, not having to move because you were moaning helplessly, rutting against him repeatedly, pulsating all around him, so good, so good, throbs of desire against his callused fingertip, eyes rolling back. Hard cock, engorged clit worked into a frenzy, your own hips fucking him back so hard that Jungkook was moaning with you, your name tumbling out from those pink lips.

"Cum for me, fuck, you sound and look so sexy, come on, come on..."

You would have praise for him too if you could breathe, but you couldn't, pleasure so overwhelming that your eyes closed, getting there, getting so close, and Jungkook he kept going until you wailed his name, back arcing, your tits hitting your thighs, forearms taut and straining, lower body lurching towards him and leaking out slick juices all over his crotch and yours, so much so that his finger slipped and his nail nicked your clit, turning your moan into a howl of ecstasy.

"Oh, shit, are you ok–"

You grabbed his hips, ignoring whatever the fuck he was saying, and slammed him down into your pussy, making Jungkook lose his balance and put his hands on the bed, yelping, and you hissing in his face, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, Jungkook, give me your cock, and Jungkook was saying something but your body gave no fucks, ears mysteriously broken at that specific moment, raising your hips to meet his as he sank down, Jungkook's face scrunching up and his pleas finally reaching your ears.

"H-Hold on, I want to last, stop, stop, stop..."

"Who cares about that, I need dick," was your very impatient response, but Jungkook grabbed your thighs and pinned you down, stopping you and him from moving, you whining and clenching around him.

"This is not p–"

Jungkook immediately fitted his hand over your mouth, narrowing his eyes at you. "No. Bad. Shush."

(How did he know you were going to say 'this is not poggers'?)

You wiggled your ass and Jungkook growled, pulling out and slamming back in, not fast, but powerful, cock getting harder and harder with your whines and cries behind his palm.

"This is what you need," he panted, deep and gravelly, one hand on the bed and one on your mouth, fucking you so hard that your ass was bouncing on the bed, creating a wet spot on the sheets with how drenched you were for Jungkook's lust-filled, husky voice. "Need me to fuck you silent, fuck, you're so tight and wet, come on, cum for me, cum for me, you sexy, sexy woman..."

Your body was already complying, pleasure wrapping all around, body so hot from the fire within, tongue pressed against his palm, moaning lewdly around his fingers as you came again, and he was so hard, fuck, Jungkook was so fucking hard right after he woke up, always, (a fucking mystery and eighth wonder of the world and your pussy was thoroughly investigating), so deep and so thick, your muscles clutching him tight, sucking him back in. His fingers separated a little, loosening his grip, and you heard your needy whimper mildly muffled by his digits.

"You're so good Jungkook, I love you, fuck, I love your cock, Jungkook..."

You looked up into his eyes, at his long hair hanging around his face, jaw clenched, smirking as he saw your gaze, biting the side of his lips in concentration.

"I love you too," he breathed. "You're the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world."

You clamped around him and Jungkook groaned, eyelids fluttering, grunting as he forcefully thrust into you, your name mixed with a moan as he came again, fully sheathing himself in your quivering, abused heat, warm pulses soothing him and you all over. The sheets stuck to your ass, covered in your sweet-smelling cum.

(Good thing that was on his side of the bed.)

His hand glided up your face, pushing back your hair, shuddering as he rutted into your core a few more times, savoring your tightness.

"You alright, my dude?" you whispered nonchalantly, gasping slightly.

Jungkook cracked one eye open. "Yeah, I'm fucking fantastic, bro."

"Pog-"

Jungkook shoved two fingers into your mouth and you choked a little, pouting around his fingers (you weren't surprised though, you knew it was coming).

"I will whip this dick out and slap you in the face with it."

"That's kinda nasty, but also sounds kinda hot," you gargled around his fingers.

"... You're right. Damn, he's asleep. Shit."

Jungkook pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the towel, frowning as he glanced down.

"Only him and not us, something seems a little inverted here."

Jungkook chuckled and leaned down to kiss you (another reason why he was the perfect partner, still being affectionate, regardless of your loony antics).

"I love you."

in which you anger jjk by being annoying - wait, that’s every day well, he still wants to bang you counter point

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 4 years ago

Text

Resolution - BTS CEO DRABBLE PT 3

So I started this tumblr thinking I would post nothing and now I’ve posted three things in the last 24 hours, what was meant to be a one shot now has three parts lol. I didn’t think the second part was good enough so I’m hoping this part is x

Prev / Next

The doorbell rings an hour too early, but no one stands at the door when you open it... weird. Until you glance down to see the white box wrapped in purple ribbon. Taking it into your apartment you unwrap the bow and open the box, gasping at the beautiful black dress inside with a little note attached “wear me tonight?”

The butterflies in your stomach caused you to giggle, you try to settle your nerves as you get ready for your first date with the seven men that ruled your heart.

You’re finished getting ready far too early and now you pace the apartment in anticipation, what if it all goes wrong? What if they decide this was all a mistake? What would you do then, to dangle this hope in front of you and take it away would crush you.

Your nerves get the better of you, and the little butterflies turn into stinging bees, causing you to clutch your stomach in pain. Maybe you should call it off before you ruin it all.

In your negative headspace you don’t hear the light knocks on the door, 15 minutes too early to be the boys, but your ears catch the soft murmur of Tae’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Flower?” He calls for you. You hear more voices in the background, as Jimin and Jungkook start to speak.

“Maybe she’s still getting ready?” Jungkook mumbled, his own nerves getting to him as he nibbles on his bottom lip in habit.

“Angel?” Jimin says louder than the other two, knocking on the door loudly, but you’re frozen in place. You want to do this, the universe knows you do but the doubt that clouds over you is suffocating you as you breathe. Why would they possibly want this?

“Angel, Jungkook’s going to knock down the door if you don’t open up!” Jimin calls in loudly, voice clear as bells ringing through your apartment, and you wince hoping your neighbours are out.

“You’re worrying us pretty flower,” Tae chimes in after him.

Would it be the worst thing if they broke down the door? You could always bill them for it and hide underneath the bed...

“Bunny?” It’s Jungkook’s voice that makes you move, you always had a soft spot for the maknae, he was younger than you and you felt very protective over him. “Noona, are you there?” He only ever called you formally when he felt vulnerable or insecure and your heart breaks a little for being the cause of it.

You open the door with downcast eyes, the excitement gone as the cloud that looms over you swallows you whole.

The boys share a look, Jungkook stepping forward to bring your face into his soft hands. You look up at his doe eyes, swimming with stars inside, and he offers you a reassuring smile. Jimin wolf whistles next to him and you cover your burning cheeks with your own palms.

“Hyung!” Jungkook tells him off for teasing you.

“Couldn’t help it,” Jimin laughs before taking your hands and tearing them away from your face. “What’s got my sinful angel looking so sad?”

He bends down until his eyes are level with yours, and you look away hesitantly, hoping he doesn’t see through you.

“You look beautiful flower,” Taehyung smiles as he brings out the bouquet he hid behind him.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling awkward at the compliment. Jimin tuts in front of you.

“I asked you a question Y/n, what’s wrong?”

It’s your turn to nibble your lips self consciously, before Tae presses his thumb against them to stop you. You try not to look at him, you know how well he can read you, and you’re not proven wrong when he hums in thought.

“I think my good girl is having some bad thoughts,” he says in his signature timbre. Eyes narrowing as you shuffle uncomfortably.

“Naughty thoughts?” Jimin smirks teasingly.

“Hyung,” Jungkook sighs at his older friend’s antics, but even Tae laughs a little, boxy grin on show.

“Let’s talk business Y/n,” Jimin continues, as you frown at him in confusion. What did he mean by that? “We are business men after all,” he says as if it’s the most obvious fact on earth.

“We know how to strike a deal that benefits both parties, so let’s make a deal.” His hands are still clutching yours as he steps closer to you, not letting you step back from his new intimidating stare.

“Come to dinner with an open heart, and let us show you how much we want you,” he whispers against your lips and you stop breathing. “We’ve been waiting for this for a very long time angel, and my patience is running out.”

You’re forced to swallow nothing as his eyes penetrate through yours, trying to lean back to get some room to breathe, but that’s not what Jimin wants. He wants you to drown in them until you give in.

You nod meekly, as Tae smirks beside you both.

“Good girl.”

—————————————————————————

The car ride did nothing to calm your nerves, you leg bounced so much that Tae put a big palm over it to steady you but it had the complete opposite effect as you felt the heat from his hand travel through your skin.

When you arrived, Jimin opened the door like a gentleman before grabbing a hand and pulling you out a little impatiently, a cheeky apology leaving his lips as he didn’t let you break eye contact with him. He literally would not let you live tonight it seemed.

You’d visited the mansion before, for official business of course, but tonight it looked a little more intimidating than usual. You felt a palm on your back as Jungkook walked beside you, smiling softly at you, crinkling his nose in excitement. That eased you a little and you reflected his smile back at him.

Namjoon and Hobi stood at the enterance waiting to greet you, you offer them a small smile and they grin in return.

“Wow sunshine,” Hobi looks you up and down, the dress hugged you in all the right places and he reminded himself to thank Tae later for picking it out.

He takes you from Jungkook with an arm around your waist, and leaves a small peck on your lips unexpectedly. Your heart rate skyrockets to the moon, you feel his warmth breath as he sighs, rubbing his nose softly against yours, eyes closed in content.

“Sorry sunshine, couldn’t resist,” he chuckles softy. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks you out of the spell Hobi cast you under and you step away a little embarrassed, you can hear Jimin coo and you hope your ears haven’t turned red.

Ever the gentleman, Namjoon takes your hand in his before bowing down to kiss it. He turns it over so your palm faces the sky before pacing another kiss on your wrist. He hums as if contemplating a difficult equation, before pulling you closer and kissing your arm before the juncture of your elbow. When he looks up at you, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You definitely weren’t going to survive tonight going by the predatory look in your gentle boss’ eyes. He moves closer still, before placing his lips on the exposed skin of your collar bone, lingering there longer than he had before, humming contently. The next kiss is on your throat and you find the hand he’s not holding grab onto him to ground your self. You can feel the smirk against your skin, and it makes you shudder in anticipation through the warmth that envelops you.

He still hasn’t kissed your lips yet, you think. So when he pulls away slightly you act before you realise what you’ve done. It’s Namjoon’s turn to freeze as your lips move against his, the pillows of your lips so soft he thought he was imagining it, until you pull away with a soft moan and he nearly growls.

“When you’re done, there’s dinner on the table getting cold,” Yoongi scoffs from the door. You’re pretty sure you could contest hell for how hot your cheeks are burning, and the cool night air does nothing to cool them, not with Yoongi looking at you with his feline eyes.

“Is kitten done playing with her new toys?” He teases and you choke on air, causing Jimin to laugh into the air and Jungkook to rub your back soothingly. Yoongi’s gummy grin shows itself at your reaction, he could hardly talk with the way he always played with you.

“Ya Yoongi, if you kill my beautiful girl before she even tastes my food I won’t be happy,” Jin yells from inside.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but holds out his hand for you, an unfamiliar softness in his eyes, one that was always there when he looked at you, but made sure you never saw until now. You couldn’t help the smile as you walked up to him, never annoyed for too long, not when he made this warmth spread across your chest. When you take his hand he looks at you like every star is held inside your eyes, soft smile gracing his features. He was never a fan of stargazing until now, he hated any form of eye contact but with you he could hold your gaze forever.

He places a kiss on your cheek first, looking at you to make sure you were okay. He might tease you until you felt your soul burn but he always made sure you were okay. He tucks in a loose stand of hair the wind decided to blow out of place, before looking at your lips, leaning in to rid the space between you both. You felt a fire ignite as his lips met yours, Yoongi was a closed book most of the time but he always silently told you what he was thinking. You could feel everything he wanted to say in the way his mouth moved slowly against yours, and it took your breath away.

“Yoongi stop hogging her!” Jin came through the door, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, no real anger behind his words. Yoongi groans as he pulls away, looking at you with a peaceful smile.

Softly he pushes you towards Jin, who wraps his arms around you expectedly.

“Hi princess,” he said unexpectedly, making you giggle. That one was new, and he loved the reaction it got out of you, biting swollen lips to stop yourself grinning.

“Hi handsome,” you blush as you try to flirt back, if they made you feel all fuzzy inside you could try to do it back right? You hear laughter behind you as Jin’s ears burn bright red and he stutters a little. You take the chance to kiss his perfect pillow lips and he swears he can feel steam leave his ears with how hot he’s feeling. Maybe he should call you dangerous girl instead.

“Dinners ready,” he says in a small voice, letting you go in a daze and walking through the house. It’s your turn to chuckle now.

“Told you she was having naughty thoughts,” you hear Jimin say to Tae, rolling your eyes at him as they walk past. As you move to follow them a hand on yours holds you back.

You look at Jungkook with confusion, his eyes are on the ground as he shuffles from foot to foot, waiting for his Hyungs to move into the next room.

He clears his throat before pouting, “Noona you’re really mean,” he whispers, and your heart beats with worry.

“Kookie?” You question, running a thumb across his cheek, as your palm held his face to look at yours. His cute pout contrasts the darkness in his narrowing eyes.

“I didn’t get a kiss Bunny,” he grumbles. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop grinning at his behaviour but he can see what you’re trying to do, pout turning stern as his arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air.

“Kookie,” you squeal in surprise, but it’s his turn to grin. “Jungkook put me down!”

He shakes his head, “need a kiss first Noona.”

You sigh in faux annoyance, this demanding boy really was something else. You take his face in your palms, leaning down to kiss him. He drinks you in fervently, feeling your heat against his mouth. Your last doubts dissipate as the maknae grips your skin tighter, fighting with himself to pull away. He looks at you with hunger in his eyes, but as you smile at him, eyes full of love, he decides to smile back. He could wait a little longer to devour you, his eyebrows wiggle at the thought, making you giggle again, the sound music to his ears, calming his own heart down.

He starts walking towards where the others are waiting, still holding you in his grasp as if you weighed nothing.

“Kookie, I can walk,” you don’t know why you’re a giggling mess but it definitely has something to do with the man holding you. He hums dissaprovingly against your skin, nipping at your collar bone causing you to gasp. He was starving for you, a little taste wouldn’t hurt.

“Why do you need to walk Bunny?” He murmured against you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, enjoying how warm your skin was getting at his actions.

You both enter the dining room, where six other men lovingly await. Their eyes and smiles on you, and you wondered why you ever doubted anything in the first place.

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Pairing: Iwaizumi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Cop and Criminal AU (Cop Iwaizumi, Criminal Reader), NSFW, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Bondage

Summary: Bad girls get punished. And criminals who go out of their way to make Iwaizumi’s life hell on a routine basis deserve extra special punishment.

Author’s Note: This is for the NSFW Haikyuu HQ Gifting Event! @multifandhoem I hope you enjoy~ (I really got carried away with the plot in this fic. One day I will learn how to write porn without plot, but for now, please accept my porn with way too much plot.)

Irritating Iwaizumi Hajime might be your favorite activity in the world. There’s just something so satisfying about watching his usually calm and stoic face shatter into an angry feral mess. And maybe, just maybe, something deep in your belly stirs as he growls and snarls at you, something primal in you writhing in excitement as he bares his teeth at you and chases you.

You’ve lived a life of sins and crimes for as long as you can remember, but hard work has taken you a long way. So really, there isn’t any need for you to continue your petty thieving ways. You’re set for life with the money you’ve accrued from the countless successful exchanges you’ve made. It’s almost obscene just how much people are willing to pay for a few shiny stones or swatches of paint on a canvas.

And yet you can’t help yourself from revisiting your bad habits of creeping in the shadows, analyzing floor plans, strategizing routes. Only now, your plans are centered around a brooding spiky haired cop with the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen instead of the number of zeros at the end of a number.

You don’t know exactly what about Iwaizumi resonates so strongly with you. Sure, he’s handsome, but you’ve run into your fair share of handsome officers. You dare say Officer Sawamura could give Iwaizumi a run for his money in the looks department.

Maybe it’s the hints of wildness you see underneath his straight-laced façade.

Maybe it’s the fire you see blazing behind his reserved countenance.

Whatever it is has you keeping tabs on him, has you concocting plans just sloppy enough for Iwaizumi to get tantalizingly close to you, but put together enough to have you escaping his grasp each and every time. And you cackle at the way his eyes light up when he thinks he has you pinned down, only to furiously scowl at your retreating figure when you taunt him with a flirtatious air kiss and a cheeky “maybe next time, sir”.

It’s an endless game of cat and mouse, but you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. And you’re beginning to suspect that even Iwaizumi finds it amusing to a certain degree.

You had been at a loss for words when the officer had merely trudged into the jewelry store you had been waiting for him in at your last heist, only to casually lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded you holding the store’s most expensive strings of diamonds and pearls in your hands, teasingly holding them up to his face. And you hesitantly lower your arm, unsure what to do as the silence and stillness of the night stretches.

There’s no growled threats or pointed firearm in your face like there usually would be right about now. And you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on the handsome face across from you as the two of you just stand there, stuck in the strange heady tension filling the air.

But you almost drop everything you’re holding at Iwaizumi’s next words.

“If you want my attention that badly, there are better ways of going about it.”

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to laugh as your trademark smirk falls off the lower unmasked part of your face and he confidently saunters over to you, strong arms boxing you in against the glass counter, enjoying the rush of power he feels about the tables finally turning as you shyly look anywhere but at him. And something roars triumphantly inside of him when you gasp as he hooks his hand under your chin and forces you to meet him gaze on.

“I’ve spent the last few months wracking my brain for answers. Why were you suddenly committing so many meaningless robberies? Robberies of stores and items so far beneath your caliber? Was it just coincidence that you were only committing crimes on the routes and nights I was working? Was I just imagining that it seemed like you were actively trying to avoid injuring me every time we clashed? None of it made any sense. But then your stupid flirting started and it made me think that maybe there was some rhyme and reason to your suddenly erratic behavior after all.”

There’s silence as he lets you register his words and the rattling of jewelry as he plucks the expensive strands out of your hands and carelessly tosses them back in their case. But he softly smiles when you don’t deny his words and make no move to push him away or escape.

“I believe in new beginnings and fresh starts, so when you’re done with your thieving ways, come find me. I’m curious about the woman under the mask.”

It’s weeks before you have the courage to even secretly trail after Iwaizumi again after that encounter and even then, you don’t do anything but keep watch over him.

His words echo in your mind and you don’t have the urge to steal and ring an alarm to beckon him towards you. Not when the greatest treasure of all is just within your grasp whenever you’re ready to summon the will to finally reveal your identity and meet him person to person in broad daylight instead of slithering around each other in the twisted tango of cop and criminal.

But you aren’t ready yet and you merely keep tabs on him for now, curiosity and protectiveness getting the better of you, and if Iwaizumi notices the moving shadow that seems to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t bring attention to it. There’s something comforting, maybe even endearing, about how you’ve become a guardian angel of sorts to him, especially with the increasing body count and grizzly crimes being committed. And although he wishes you were safe and sound, tucked far away from the ricocheting bullets and corpses, his heart warms at the bouquet of lilies he finds on his doorsteps when he stumbles back home, empty and defeated, the weight of his partner’s death from a particularly bloody shootout still fresh on his mind.

There’s no note, no letter, but he knows. Knows that it could only be you, knows that no one outside of his team or the criminals they had been fighting with could possibly know about the death so soon unless they happened to witness the scene. And that night he sobs himself to sleep, clutching your flowers to his chest, unaware of the way you forlornly stare at him from the roof across the street, heart aching and wishing more than anything that you weren’t such a coward, that you were brave enough to slip inside and comfort him in person.

But life has a funny way of working, of not caring if you’re ready or not and your lives crash together once more in an unexpected way.

Iwaizumi is promoted to lead the new task force aimed at squashing down the rising crime syndicates. You’re proud of him, but you can’t quell the anxiety that courses through you as you watch every raid that takes place, wondering if and when the day will come where he’ll be outmaneuvered, keeping your own skills sharp, praying that you’ll never have to use them again, but just in case…

And you thank whoever’s listening that you had kept up with your training as Iwaizumi’s team is ambushed and overpowered one night. Your heart drops and bile rises in your throat as officer after officer crumples to the floor, but you force yourself to calm down, to find an internal steady rhythm as you glide through the shadows, swiftly and secretly making your way towards the man you’ve become so attached to.

You fight down the panic when you finally reach him, try to still the tremble in your hands as you quickly scan the growing dark red stain spreading across his shirt from his wounds, almost collapsing in relief when you find that they’re all superficial wounds, nothing life threatening or critical.

The silent scuffle between the two of you is awful and you’re thankful that blood loss and pain have weakened him as you forcefully drag him away, nails gripping tightly into his skin as you roughly lead him to your apartment despite his struggling, despite his desperate desire to go back and help his few remaining teammates. And you’re both fiercely snarling at each other when you’re finally safe inside your apartment, fury raging in both of you as you snap at each other.

“You should have let me stay and help!”

“So that you could end up dead like the rest of them? You were clearly outpowered and outnumbered!”

“Well you should have just let me die then, instead of helping me escape like a coward.”

A resounding crack echoes throughout the room and it takes you some time to register the smarting pain in the palm of your hand and the fresh red mark on Iwaizumi’s cheek. But before you can even stutter an apology, a hand is fisting the front of your shirt and lips are crashing against yours in an angry impassioned act and you whimper as you are forced to taste his frustration and gratitude, his losses and gain, his despair and hope.

And when he disconnects and the two of you gasp for much needed oxygen, you stand in the middle of your apartment, arms wrapped around each other, only the sounds of Iwaizumi’s sobs and your comforting words flitting through the air as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and you rub soothing patterns on his back.

The rest of the night is a domestic peaceful drawl and you gently lead Iwaizumi to an armchair in your living room before scurrying away to rummage for your first aid kit and returning to kneel between his legs as you clean his injuries, apologizing as he winces at the sting of warm water and soap against his open wounds. There’s a soothing flow as you tend to him and you relax with every swipe of the towel, fingers and hands lingering just a tad longer than they should on his skin. But you stiffen when his uninjured arm raises and calloused fingers lightly trace the bottom of your mask.

There’s an unspoken question in the way he delicately plays around with the corners of the fabric, but it seems deafening to you as your heart races. Maybe it’s the pure intentions in his eyes or the fact that your walls are weakened in the confines of your apartment, but either way, you don’t pull away, tilting your head up and stilling in silent confirmation. And something flutters in your chest as he gingerly removes your mask, heat rising to your face as green eyes stare at your face in awe for the first time, fingertips tracing every inch and line, mapping every groove reverently.

It feels like eternity before you resume dipping the towel into the soapy water and treating him. But bandaged and deemed well, Iwaizumi is ushered to your shower and you shove a pile of clean towels and the largest loungewear you have into his hands, fully intent on locking him in the bathroom as you get a grip on yourself. But he has different plans in mind and you’re speechless as he firmly grasps your wrist before you can retreat with your tail between your legs.

“Stay with me. Please.”

How could you possibly deny those honest eyes?

Swipes of a soapbar against skin become intimate caresses and before you fully register what’s happening, you’re being pressed against the wall as Iwaizumi plunders your mouth, rough hands roaming all over your body as he fully explores everything you have to offer. You whimper as the hot water is suddenly turned off, the cold air crashing against you, but you let out a content sigh as a hot body wraps you in its embrace, carrying you to the sanctuary of your plush bedding. And all you know before you blissfully pass out is the sound of your wanton moans as you break apart over and over again, on Iwaizumi’s tongue, fingers, and cock, tears and drool cascading down your face as you alternate between begging for more and crying for him to let you rest before you ultimately pass out from the deliriously overwhelming ecstasy.

The sun is barely creeping in, a few slim tendrils slipping past the cracks of your window blinds when his eyes flutter open and something warm spreads in his chest as he slowly turns to observe your still soundly sleeping figure, a small upward quirk of his lips betraying how right it feels to wake up beside your vulnerable state. And although he can’t deny the allure of your body creeping through the night, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful like this, unmasked and body unconsciously seeking his presence and warmth as you curl into his space, your face nuzzling into his chest, head perfectly settled under his chin, the soft glow of sunlight enhancing your natural beauty.

But he grimaces as his alarm continues to blaringly ring in the background, frowning as he reluctantly separates himself from you and carefully untangles himself from your bed sheets, quietly traipsing out of your room and dialing a number on his phone when he’s out of your earshot.

Guilt and dread claw at him as the ringtone goes on and on and his throat is dry when he hears the authoritative voice through the speakers.

“Iwaizumi? Are you okay?!”

Iwaizumi wishes he had a glass of water as he chokes out a polite greeting and he can feel hot tears prick at his eyes as he ceaselessly apologizes. Apologizing for abandoning his men. Apologizing for a failed mission. Apologizing for being such a failure as an officer, as a leader.

But he quickly shuts up at the sharp tone that pierces his ear as Sawamura barks his name and he waits and waits, holding his breath, preparing to give up his badge, only to splutter in surprise at the warm relieved chuckle echoing across the speaker.

“I’m glad you’re at least well enough to give me a headache with your wallowing. Good men died and we’re going to feel their loss for a long time. I won’t deny that. But no one blames you, Iwaizumi. You’re a good man, a great officer, and an even better leader. Rest up, grieve, mourn. Do whatever you need to do for the next few days. And when you’re ready, I expect to see you in my office so we can strategize about how we’re going to honor our fallen teammates by giving these criminals hell.”

He barely has time to stammer a “yes, sir” before the line clicks shut and the tears finally roll down his face as he clutches his phone in his hands, bittersweet gratefulness and sorrow blending together. And as his cries come to an end, a determined glint flickers in his eyes as he wipes the last of the salty trails away, the resolve of a man seeking vengeance forming inside of him.

But that could wait until he was back in the swirl and chaos of the precinct. For now, he has other loose ends to tie and he quietly walks back to your room, smiling at the sight of your still slumbering figure nestled in your blankets as he makes his way towards you, intent on slipping back underneath the covers besides you. But he lets out a muffled pained curse as his foot knocks over a box besides your bed, the crash of objects dispersing across the wood floor rattling you awake, and you blearily blink your eyes open only to stare in shock and horror as Iwaizumi curiously holds up a set of black bondage restraints and a jeweled butt plug from among the scattered items, before sending an amused look and a quirked brow your way.

If you were drowsy before, you’re wide awake now as you lunge out of bed, throwing yourself at Iwaizumi as you frantically try to regain possession of some of your most intimate belongings, pouting when he holds the items out of reach, a mischievous grin on his face as he looks down at you.

“Are you familiar with the stoplight system?”

You pause your futile jumping as you try and bat your toys out of his hands, balking at the underlying meaning in his question, waiting for him to just laugh it off and move on. But when all he does is bring a warm hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone as he patiently gazes at you, letting you make the final decision, you melt and lean into his touch, shyly nodding your head as you blissfully sigh at the way it feels so right for him to be touching you.

“Words, princess. I’m not going to be gentle. Not after all the teasing and headaches you’ve caused me. So I need to be sure you’re ok with this, that it’s what you want.”

Brief descriptions of red, yellow, and green are barely out of your mouth before you’re suddenly being forcefully shoved onto the bed, body instinctively flailing in self-defense as you try to register what’s happening while binds are roughly being wrapped around your wrists and ankles. But you mewl in arousal as Iwaizumi’s weight settles on top of you, his hard chest pressing you against the bed as he dexterously ties you up until you’re in a spread-eagled position underneath him, unable to move even an inch. And your breath hitches at the hungry look he pins you down with as he sits back and enjoys the view of your trussed up body on complete display for him.

But you grow impatient as the minutes drag by and Iwaizumi gives you an unimpressed look as you begin to fight against your restraints, whining for him to get on with it already. And he shuts you up with a punishing pinch to your inner thigh that has you yelping before getting up from the bed and perusing your box of toys.

You crane your neck in every way as you try to get a sneak peek of what he has in store for you, but Iwaizumi puts that idea to a screeching halt as he slips a blindfold around your head and all you know is darkness and anticipation. Despite the way you try to intently listen for any warning, you squeal in surprise when a hot wet mouth latches onto one of your nipples, fingers tweaking the other and your entire world narrows down to your two perky buds, the lewd wet sounds of sucking filling your ears. Mouth and hands alternate and you can’t keep up with the fluctuating patterns, your breath coming out in pants, your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal, and you sigh in relief when the assault stops, glad to have a moment of reprieve, only to wail when the intense pressure of nipple clamps sears through you, the cold weight of the chain connecting the two clamps piercing your senses as it settles onto your skin.

Pain and pleasure echo through your mind so loudly that you don’t sense Iwaizumi moving until fingers suddenly slip inside your dripping pussy and your back arches, the nipple clamp chain jingling with the movement and a rush of humiliation courses through you when Iwaizumi chuckles, commenting on how wet you are already.

“I was going to prep you a bit more, but looks like this cock hungry hole is more than ready.”

You’re practically salivating as something hard nudges against your entrance, already delirious just from the prospect of being filled with Iwaizumi’s cock once again, but enthusiasm turns to confusion which turns to pleasured shock as your rabbit vibrator is shoved inside of you and immediately set to its highest setting, your clit and walls stimulated so sharply, so suddenly.

It’s so good, but it’s not enough, it’s too much, it’s not what you want.

“Haji-Hajime, please. Want to cum on your cock. Don’t want a toy! Too much. At least turn it down. Haji-AHHHH!”

You scream as you’re forced to an orgasm, body convulsing, jaw going slack, and you wait for the toy to be removed, wait for the settings to be lowered, only for dread and disbelief to fill you as a sticky thick substance is being inserted into your puckered hole, a lubed finger slowly entering you, taking its time to explore and spread your tight hole as the vibrator continues to ravage your pussy and clit at full intensity. And drool begins to seep from the corners of your mouth as you tumble headfirst into overstimulation as a plug replaces the fingers inside of your ass, nestling inside of you as you come to terms with the overwhelming feeling of being double stuffed.

“Ha-Hajime please please please. Too much. I can’t-”

The plug inside of you is teasingly pulled just enough for you to feel the stretch of your hole, only to be shoved inside you once again and words are too hard to think of as the vibrator is thrust in and out of you, the slick sounds of your gushing cunt embarrassingly loud even above your whimpers.

“Maybe I should make you cum for every robbery you ever committed. Maybe then you’ll actually behave and be a law-abiding citizen. Would you like that? Being too fucked out to even think about breaking the law?”

“No! Please! I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I swear. Just please let me rest.”

“Sorry, princess. Bad girls need to be punished.”

A strangled sob escapes you as the vibrator is pushed even deeper inside of you, the smaller tip grinding even further into your clit and your cries are swallowed as Iwaizumi settles besides you, affectionately capturing your lips with his as he watches you break apart once again, smirking as your body and face try to draw closer to him, seeking comfort and relief as overwhelming pleasure drowns you.

But he doesn’t stop. Not even when your begging and pleading turns into incoherent babbles and wanton noises. Not even when you’re too tired to even move, your body only twitching here and there from overstimulation, completely slack and mindless as pleasure melts your brain into mush.

Only when the vibrator finally runs out of batteries hours later, the mechanical whirring coming to an end, does he finally relieve you of the object and you dazedly stare at him as he removes your tear-stained blindfold, slumping in relief that it’s finally over, wanting nothing more than to curl up in Iwaizumi’s arms and sleep for a long, long time.

But he has other plans for the two of you and even in your exhausted state, your eyes fling wide open and you weakly whimper as he positions himself in between your legs, guiding his cock to your spent hole and easily slipping inside before caging you with his arms.

Your eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion and despite how wrecked you are, how used you feel, arousal once again begins to coil up inside of you as your walls accommodate the new object.

All you can think about is the cock inside of you. All you can think about is the way it fills and stretches you. All you can think about is the way it drags against your sensitive walls as Iwaizumi begins to piston his hips in a brutal steady rhythm.

The room is a cacophony of Iwaizumi’s grunts, your broken moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin and you can feel yourself losing to the pleasure as the now all too familiar knot in your stomach tightens once again, your body tensing and pulling taut against your restraints as something builds up inside of you.

Iwaizumi isn’t doing much better, so pent up from watching you beautifully fall apart over and over again in front of him, so close to the real thing as he hovers above you, memorizing the blissed out look on your face, mentally recording every gorgeous sound that slips past your lips, and this time it’s all because of him.

He increases his pace, groaning as your walls tighten around him as if they don’t ever want him to leave them empty, something feral inside of him howling as your mouth opens in a silent scream as you crash one last time, your body shaking and trembling, your cunt spasming around him as he spills long thick stripes inside of you.

When there’s nothing left to give, every last drop of his essence deep within you, your body boneless and limp beneath him, he gently lays on top of you, burying his face in the space besides yours, murmuring praises and words of affirmation as he blankets your body with his.

And when you finally come back to him, eyes looking a little more clear, voice regaining your sassy tone as you demand that he undo your restraints, he’s more than happy to oblige, carefully releasing you, rubbing every sore limb, letting you use him as your personal body pillow as you throw your arms and legs around him and bury your face into his chest, almost instantly falling into a deep exhausted slumber in the safety of his presence.

There will be proper, much needed conversations and discussions when the two of you are both awake, sitting across each other with steaming mugs of coffee placed in front of you, hesitantly yet hopefully probing for answers. What are the two of you? What does the future hold for both of you?

But for now, Iwaizumi lets his eyes shut, lets himself be lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as he holds you close to him, protectively curling around you as sleep embraces him.

#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #Iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader

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2tired2study · 4 years ago

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hi! i’ve recently finished the picture of dorian gray so let’s go over my favorite quotes (in order from the ones that appear in the book first to last)

if they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat

being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose i know

and as for believing things, i can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible

when our eyes met, i felt that i was growing pale. a curious sensation of terror came over me. i knew that i had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if i allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself

he, too, felt that we were destined to know each other

laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is by far the best ending for one

a man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies

i like persons better than principles, and i like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world

every day. i couldn’t be happy if i didn’t see him every day. he is absolutely necessary to me

he is all my art to me now

it is only the intellectually lost who ever argue

and the mind of a thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing

there is no such thing as a good influence, mr gray. all influence is immoral; immoral from the scientific point of view

he becomes an echo of someone else’s music

but the bravest man among us is afraid of himself

nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul

some day, when you are old and wrinkled and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead with its lines, and passion branded your lips with its hideous fires,you will feel it, you will feel it terribly

man is many things, but he is not rational

examinations, sir, are pure humbug from beginning to end. if a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him

behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic

there was something fascinating in this son of love and death

really! and where do bad americans go to when they die?... they go to america

well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth

all i want now is to look at life. you may come and look at it with me, if you care to

punctuality is the thief of time

it is only the sacred things that are worth touching

when one is in love, one always begins by deceiving ones self, and one always ends by deceiving others

there is always something infinitely mean about other peoples tragedies

how different he was now than the shy frightened boy he had met in basil hallwards studio! his nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of scarlet flame. out of its secret hiding-place had crept his soul, and desire had come to meet it on the way

it is personalities, not principles, that move the age

people are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves

he lives the poetry that he cannot write. the others write the poetry that they dare not realize

human life—that appeared to him the one thing worth investigating

to note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional coloured life of the intellect—to observe where they had met, and where they separated, at what point they were in unison, and at what point they were at discord—there was a delight in that! what matter was the cost? one could never pay too high a price for any sensation

with his beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to wonder at. it was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. he was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir ones sense of beauty, and whose wounds are like red roses

the senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade

all that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, and that the sun we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy

it often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves

the joy of a caged bird was in her voice

she was free in her prison of passion

i love him because he is like what love himself should be.

he was like a common gardener walking with a rose

he had the dislike of being stared at, which comes on geniuses late in life and never leaves the commonplace

to be in love is to surpass ones self

my wonderful lover, my god of graces

i wish i had, for as sure as there is a god in heaven, if he ever does you any wrong, i shall kill him

whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives

i don’t want to see dorian tied to some vile creature, who might degrade his nature and ruin his intellect

we are not sent into the world to air our moral prejudices

and unselfish people are colourless. they lack individuality

you are much better than you pretend to be

of course, it is sudden—all really delightful things are

he is not like other men. he would never bring misery upon any one. his nature is too fine for that

but i am afraid i cannot claim my theory as my own. it belongs to nature, not to me

no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized man ever knows what a pleasure is

there was a gloom over him

he felt that dorian gray would never again be to him all that he had been in the past

any one you love must be marvellous

it is not good for ones morals to see bad acting

there are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating—people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing

you taught me what reality really is

you had made me understand what love really is

you are more to me than all art can ever be

there is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love

a faint echo of his love came back to him

we live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities

when we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us

i cant bear the idea of my soul being hideous

one can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing

nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner

it is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion

you were the most unspoiled creature in the whole world

of you wish me never to look at your picture again, i am content. i have always you to look at

from the moment i met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. i was dominated, soul, brain, and power, by you

i grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. i wanted to have you all to myself. i was only happy when i was with you

i only knew that i had seen perfection face to face

i grew more and more absorbed in you

you are made to be worshipped

in every pleasure, cruelty has its place

but it was to teach man to concentrate himself upon the moments of life that is itself but a moment

out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. we have to resume it where we left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it nat be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colours, and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance of even joy having its bitterness and the memories of pleasure their pain

yet, as had been said of him before, no theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself

he saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not its counterpart

art, like nature, has her monsters

is insincerity such a terrible thing? i think not. it is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities

and mind you don’t talk about anything serious. nothing is serious nowadays. at least nothing should be

i am tired of myself tonight. i should like to be someone else

sin is a thing that writes itself across a mans face

you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite

that is the reason why i want you to be fine. you have not been fine

you have a wonderful influence. let it be for good, not for evil

i wonder do i know you? before i could answer that, i should have to see your soul

my god! don’t tell me that you are bad, and corrupt, and shameful

so you think it is only god who sees the soul, basil? draw that curtain back, and you will see mine

each of us has heaven and hell in him, basil

you are the one man who is able to save me

don’t speak about those days, dorian—they are dead... the dead linger sometimes

lord henry, i am not at all surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked

life is a great disappointment

i like men who have a future and women who have a past

moderation is a fatal thing. enough is as bad as a meal. more than enough is as good as a feast

you always want to know what one has been doing. i always want to forget what i have been doing

his soul, certainly, was sick to death

he was prisoned in thought. memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away

ones days were too brief to take the burden of another’s errors on ones shoulders

it is a sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things

to define is to limit

to be popular one must be a mediocrity

romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art

i am searching for peace

the appeal to antiquity is fatal to us who are romanticists

sick with a wild terror of dying, and yet indifferent to life itself

horror seemed once more to lay its hand upon his heart

how terrible it was to think that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms

he had a wild adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art

when you and he ceased to be great friends, he ceased to be a great artist

if a man treats life artistically, his brain is his heart

art has a soul, but that man had not

the soul is a terrible reality

to get back my youth i would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable

but a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play—i tell you, dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend

life has been your art

the books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world it’s own shame

the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. the curves of your lips rewrite history

it was the living death of his own soul that troubled him

as it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painters work, and all that that meant. it would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free

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walkswithmyfather · 3 years ago

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[This is a long article, but it is well worth reading. 🙂]

“Miracle Prayer - How to Ask God for a Miracle” by Whitney Hopler (Crosswalk)

“Since everything is possible for God, you can experience miracles in your life when you invite God to intervene – even in situations that seem impossible. But too often, people neglect to ask God for miracles in their lives, and end up settling for far less than God’s best for them. Use these prayers for miracles when you're ready to ask God to take over.

You can always approach God with confidence if you trust in His Son, Jesus Christ. So don’t hesitate to pray about anything, including miracles!

1. A Miracle Prayer for the Impossible

Father, I come to you today with faith so small I cannot see a way. I want to believe you are able to do more than I ever imagine. I want to walk by faith and not by sight. God, please bring a miracle into my life. I know that you can do the impossible in my life and I am trusting in your promises. Thank you for being a God who sees and hears my every need. In Jesus' name, amen.

2. A Thankful Miracle Prayer

Heavenly Father, Thank You for answering my prayers and performing miracles in my life every day. Just the fact that I woke up this morning and can take a breath is a gift from You. Help me to never take my health and loved ones for granted. Help me to always stand in faith and keep my focus on You when unexpected circumstances arise. In Jesus’ Name, Amen. ~ Leah DiPascal, Proverbs 31 Ministries

3. A Prayer to Trust When You Need a Miracle

“Dear God, thank you that you love me and want to keep me from depending on other things instead of you. Forgive me for when I’ve depended on my job and other people instead of you. Thank you that you haven’t forgotten me. Lord, the days ahead may be a little scary at times, but I understand now that the path to a miracle is through uncomfortable territory. I understand now that the source of a miracle will be unexpected, so I shouldn’t try to figure it out. I should just trust you. When you tell me what to do, and it doesn’t always make sense, I will still do what you want me to do. Help me to remember that you’re all I need and that where you guide, you’ll provide. I want to learn to trust you one day at a time. I want to go your way, not my way. I want to follow you, and I ask you to save me and come into my life. I claim your promise that if I trust you, you’ll meet my needs. I pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.” ~ Rick Warren

How to Pray and Ask God for a Miracle: Forget formulas and simply seek God’s presence. There are no magical formulas to use to conjure up miracles. Instead, miracles happen whenever you welcome God’s powerful presence into the situations you face. So don’t worry about trying to pray perfect prayers to convince God to do something miraculous in your life. Simply invite God to work in every situation in which you’re seeking miracles, and trust Him to do what’s best after you ask Him to intervene.

Consider what may be blocking miracles from happening in your life. Sometimes the particular miracle you’re seeking isn’t God’s will, sometimes spiritual warfare is occurring in your life and evil is blocking a miracle from happening, sometimes you have sin in your life (such as bitterness) that is preventing a miracle from taking place, and sometimes you don’t have enough faith to believe that God can really perform the miracle you’re hoping for. Pray about each of these potential blockages, and then relax, trusting that God has the situation covered and will answer your prayers with what’s best.

View miracles as expressions of how much God loves you. Recognize that every time God does choose to perform a miracle in your life, He is showing you His love for you in a tangible way. Be sure to thank God for His love whenever you experience a miracle.

Ask God to guide you to the truth about His will. If you’re not sure whether or not it’s God’s will to perform a particular miracle in your life, ask Him to make His will clear to you and tell Him that you want His will – not your own will – to be done.

Ask God to help your unbelief. Confess your doubts and lack of faith to God and ask Him to meet you where you are spiritually to help you believe that He is able to do what He says He will do in your life.

Obey God’s command to forgive so your prayers won’t be hindered. If you’re unwilling to forgive someone who has hurt or offended you, that refusal to forgive can hinder your prayers from being answered, because God sometimes waits until you obey His commands before answering prayers. Remember how much God has forgiven you for, and let that motivate you to obey His call to forgive others. Ask God to help you forgive; you can choose to forgive even when you don’t feel like it and rely on the strength God will give you during the forgiveness process.

Fight evil through spiritual warfare. If evil in the spiritual realm is hindering miracles from happening in your life, pray breakthrough prayers against evil to clear the way for more miracles to occur in your life. Start by confessing your sins that come to mind, and then repent of each one specifically. Next, ask (in Jesus’ name and through the power of His blood) for the Holy Spirit to help you and the people you’re praying for be victorious over all evil attacks. Ask God to protect you and those you’re praying for from future attacks by evil. Pray for any bondages that you (or the people you’re praying for) are under to be broken so you and they can experience the freedom God intends. As you’re praying, mention each issue specifically – from unhealthy addictions (such as to alcohol or pornography) and personal struggles (with jealousy, greed, gossip, lying, anger, anxiety, or any other issues) to negative words that others may have spoken over you and any involvement you may have had with ungodly spiritual forces (such as through the occult). Then ask God to bless you and those you’re praying for in the name of Jesus.

Praise God more through worship. You can experience more miracles when you spend more time praising God in worship, because worship ushers God’s power into your life in fresh ways and helps you discern His voice more clearly as He leads you toward miracles. Make a habit of praising God for who He is, during both good and bad times in your life.

Live a life that’s completely devoted to God. When you devote yourself to God completely – in every area of your life – you’ll notice more miracles happening in your life. Seek God’s guidance before making any major decision, and ask the Holy Spirit to change your own desires to reflect God’s desires for you. Live for God (rather than for yourself), and be willing to say “yes” whenever God calls you to help people in need.

Take the steps that God shows you. As you seek God’s will for your life, sometimes God will give you clear signs to follow, and sometimes He will simply give you a sense of peace. Humbly pray for wisdom every day and step out in faith whenever God shows you a way in which he wants you to put your faith into action. In the process, miracles can happen.

Don’t give up until God answers your prayers. Since God’s timing (which is perfect) often takes longer than the immediate results that human beings like to see, many people give up praying for miracles when they don’t see answers to their prayers right away. But God will always answer your prayers with either a “yes” or a “no” that’s clear; you just need to patiently wait until the right time for the answer to come. In the meantime, never give up praying and trusting God to do what’s best.”

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ahopkins1965 · 10 months ago

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Were ready to ask God to remove our defects of character Step 6

Step 6 is a separation of people from themselves and others. When it comes to this step, we will have to prepare to let go of everything that is completely bothering us. Step 6 is like a mania, which is an object of excessive madness. Therefore, we must ask God to remove the madness in your life. Character defects are called sins.

God begins to work in our lives. Our foundation has to be prepared for our situations. These defects of character hurt us. They have also delayed us. Read Romans 7:14-25. This is called struggling with sin. Defects are the absence of something necessary or useful toward perfection. Read Genesis 1:31 and Isaiah 59:2. Character is its features and qualities that set you apart from others, such as unbelievers. Your character is what people know you by. It distinguishes who you are.

Next, I am asking God to remove all of these undesirable traits. Deeply ingrained patterns of behavior; which are called habits. A habit is a behavioral pattern that has been done numerous of times. This means that you have done it for an extended period of time. When it comes to generational curses, which are roots and branches are messed up through families. This is a cycle. They will not vanish overnight. We must be intentional in our own behavior with God.

God’s righteousness is credited to me. Through the power of the Holy Ghost sanctification takes place. Read Colossians 1:13. We begin to find a peace of joy, myself. People begin to say that I remember when. Replace all of our defects of character with good intentions. God will make your life better.

Read Luke 6:19. This is when power was coming from Him. Jesus Christ was healing everyone that came to Him. Read 2nd Corinthians 5:17. A complete transformation of our life is done through the power of the Holy Ghost. We begin to ask God to bind up our evil speaking, pride, and bad spirits. Read Ephesians 1:21. He is far above all principalities, powers right now and in the world to come. Read Galatians 5:22-23 and 2nd Corinthians 5:18-20. Read Ephesians 2:13. A lack of power was my dilemma. Trade our character defects for Godly character. We are ambassadors of Jesus Christ. A tradition is something that is passed down. Read 1st John 2:23. Whoever has acknowledged the Father has acknowledged the Son also. Read Titus 2:14. Character defects are sins.

Read Ezekiel 36:26-27. The new life that we reach in Jesus Christ, we become a brand new person. Read 2nd Corinthians 4:3-4. This is called Spiritual Blindness. We must be willing to trade in our filthy mouth, cheating, porn, dishonesty, immorality, and our broken down self. Read 2nd Corinthians 2:10. This is the model of me. God is putting the pieces together. Friendships are restored as well as favor from estrangement.

1.Reconciliation with God

2.Pardon is excuse of an offense without penalty. It is an official release from punishment. The offender is release custody. Read Psalms 103:12.

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egelantier · 4 years ago

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Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hua cheng #cdramas #cnovels #mxtx

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thdorkmagnet · 4 years ago

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Trust, Promises, and Resets

Welcome all to my first Undertale fanfic! This one took a bit to finish but I’m really, really happy it’s done and ready to be shared with the world! Just a short and sweet one-shot about Frisk and Sans dealing with resets and all the baggage that comes with them. Wanted to put my own personal spin on a very classic concept for the Undertale fanbase. This was also some much needed practice at writing these characters, hopefully I nailed them.

Anyways enjoy!

Disclaimer: Undertale and all its characters belong to Toby Fox. All Rights go to him.

The glow from the screen was starting to hurt Frisk’s eyes, the neon pop of orange color starting to burn into their retina, still they refused to turn on any lights, forcing themselves to remain sitting in the dark. They couldn't let anyone see them while they did this, not mom, not dad, not Undyne, not Alphys, not Papyrus, and not Sans. Definitely not Sans. Frisk had worked so hard to gain his trust, they would hate to ruin all the progress they had made with the skeleton.

Frisk let out a long sigh, staring at the word and trying not to lose their cool. 'Reset'. The word taunted them, a constant nagging at the back of Frisk’s mind, the power and hurt contained in such a simple word. Five letters that could make or break the world, that had the power to uproot so many lives. And Frisk alone held this power.

They let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to keep their calm. It's okay, it'll all be over soon and this temptation won’t haunt me any longer. They thought, though the reassurance felt hollow.

Slowly they raised up trembling fingers, reaching out towards the button. Time seemed to slow, a steady ringing in Frisk's ear, the room around them shuddering as if the fabric of the world was unraveling. The button seemed to be gleaming back at them, the cursed words beckoning them to press it and redo it all over again. To finally satiate the curiosity they were plagued by. Just let this be over, Frisk thought, the words desperate in their head. Just let it finally end!

Knock, knock.

The steady rapping of the wood outside Frisk’s door startled them, causing them to jump in place, looking towards the closed door in panic. They racked their brain, trying to match a friend to the sound, each Monster having their own unique knocking style. Toriel’s was steady and calm, more like a melody than a knock really. Asgore was strong and powerful, often making the walls around it shake with every rap of his knuckles; it definitely didn’t fit the goofy but lovable Monster Frisk had grown to know and love. Alphys was always so gentle Frisk could barely hear it and most times wouldn’t even hear the even quieter call after from the shy scientist. Undyne forgoed knocking altogether, prefering to kick the door open with no warning (Frisk still remembered the incident where poor Blooky had been on the other side). Papyrus often did the same but when he did knock it was rapid and enthusiastic, like he was just beyond excited and couldn’t wait to enter. None of those matched up with this particular knock so that just left…

"heh, you're supposed to say 'who's there', kiddo."

Frisk choked on a gasp. No! Not Sans! Anyone but him!

Frisk moved to press the 'continue' button, hoping to hide the evidence before it was too late but to their surprise the door swung open way too quickly and they wanted to slap themselves for forgetting the improvements the lazy skeleton had made on himself. At first, old habits had persisted, his movements slow and tired as if he hadn’t slept in years rather than constantly. But as he and Frisk grew closer, slowly and surely they had watched the life return to the small skeleton. Not to say he didn’t have his moments of laziness. He was still the same Sans he always was, able to nap at any time or place (usually on the job), preferring to be carried around by Papyrus rather than walk, and cracking puns whenever the opportunity presented itself. But he was more energetic, Frisk might even go as far as to say happy. The smile permanently plastered on his face didn't seem forced anymore. It felt natural and real.

In fact, just the other day Papyrus had been praising Sans on his much needed enthusiasm and Frisk had been right there with him, proud to see their friend truly happy and at peace.

But in this moment, so close to getting caught, Frisk selfishly wished for the old Sans back, if only to prevent the catastrophe that was coming as Sans stepped into the dark room.

"heya, kiddo. what'cha doin' sitting in the dark? don't tell me we’re both going knock-turnal, heh." Sans froze as he finally took in the scene, his eye sockets widening in what Frisk could only assume was fear. They knew how it must look, sitting in the dark in front of the screen that could undo years of Sans’ life. It was an incriminating scene to walk in on and Frisk cursed themselves for not locking the door, barricading it with anything and everything they had on hand to avoid this outcome. They had been careless. They had thought the house was empty while Toriel went out for groceries but clearly they were wrong. And now Sans would pay the price.

Sans’ eye sockets, which had only a second ago shined with life and the promise of hope, dimmed till they were void, empty spaces, no light able to seep through the blackness. Frisk had seen that look enough times to know exactly what it meant. It meant they messed up. And the consequences were that vacant expression. How many times had Frisk seen it before? They had lost count. And all the hope and trust they had built up in Sans shattered and died in an instant. Just like that. “oh,” was the only word that escaped Sans’ mouth and it sounded forced and choked at that, as empty and hollow as the black voids his eyes had become. What had Frisk done?

“Sans, it’s not what it looks like.” Frisk hoped that Sans would listen to them, let them explain and maybe make things right again. But they knew that wasn’t the case, Sans’ broken mind had already jumped to the worst possible conclusion, just like it always did. Frisk wasn’t entirely sure this was fixable but they had to at least try. “I wasn’t going to-”

“heh, it’s okay, kiddo. i get it. knew it was a matter of time, guess i just wasn’t prepared for it to be today.” There was nothing in the skeleton’s voice. No laughter, no emotion. It was just hollow. How long had it been since Frisk had seen Sans this bad. This empty. It was as if the skeleton wasn’t even there at all, just a shell made of bones pretending to be him. He looked so fragile and tired, a gust of wind could probably blow him away.

His bony fingers rubbed at his eyes for a few seconds and… oh gosh, were those tears? Frisk had really screwed up this time. Sans’s hands were back in his pockets and he tried to look casual, normal, and if not for the emptiness in his sockets Frisk might have believed it. And there was that smile, that dead smile that Frisk had worked so hard to wipe away. It was instinct for Sans, a defense mechanism against the emptiness in his soul. Just smile and joke it off as if nothing was wrong. Oh man, what was Papyrus gonna say when he saw that look was back? He had confided in Frisk once about how much it hurt him to see Sans that way. Miserable but closed off. It must have been torture watching from a distance as his brother slowly tore himself apart.

“just, uh… do me a favor, okay kiddo?” Sans continued. “as your pal, just let me have one last trip to grillby’s before you… y’know. let me ketchup one last time before it all goes back.” The pun was painful for Frisk to hear. Normally they would laugh at how bad it was and then would follow up with something like, “Well I know those guys relish your company,” and then Sans would chuckle and say something equally as terrible and on and on it would go. But Frisk didn’t even smile at the joke, they just watched the skeleton sadly, feeling their soul shudder in pain, their sins crawling on their back.

Before Frisk could give their answer, Sans had turned and left the room, the skeleton surprising Frisk again with his speed. Frisk was in the hallway a second later, chasing after their friend, desperate to make things right. "Sans, please wait!"

A formation of bones appeared between the two and Frisk jumped, for a moment terror flooded through their soul. In a flash they were back in that dreaded room of yellow, the empty echoing halls torn and destroyed as thousands of bones jutted out of every crevice, breaking the once fancy hall apart. They could smell the blood in the air, could feel the bone lodged deep in their chest. The pain was unbearable as their soul was ripped apart and scattered to the wind and the last thing they saw before it all went to black was the glowing angry blue in their opponent's eyes, the words, 'dirty brother killer' echoing in their head.

Frisk shuddered as they forced the memory back, burying it deep inside themselves. This wasn't the time for relieving the past, Sans needed them in the present. The bones protruding through the middle of the hallway and separating Frisk from Sans were a light blue, passing through them wasn't an option. That just left reasoning then. Darn, Sans was impossible to reason with in this state. But what choice did Frisk have?

"Sans, please just let me explain." They had to make him see. Show him they weren't doing what he thought.

"seeya 'round, kiddo," Sans said, looking back over his shoulder, giving his typical teasing wink, only now it wasn't playful. It was wrong. This was all so wrong.

Frisk blinked and suddenly Sans was no longer in the hallway. They had been expecting him to use a shortcut but it still shook them to be alone. To suddenly be standing in the middle of their house, wracked with guilt and with no one to help provide any sort of comfort. Not that they deserved it.

Why? Why hadn't they taken more precautions? Why hadn't they made sure there was no chance of someone coming in on them? Looking back on it, Frisk felt stupid. Of course they would get caught! They had practically been begging for it. They hadn't even bothered to lock their door. Clearly Frisk had wanted this to happen!

For a few moments Frisk just stood alone in the hallway, clenching and unclenching their fists, trying to think of a way to make things up to Sans while simultaneously cursing themselves for creating this mess in the first place. Just when Frisk was ready to slam their head into the nearest wall to try and release the image of Sans’ empty expression that circled their head, a loud voice rang throughout the quiet household. “HUMAN! SANS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAVE RETURNED!"

Papyrus walked in through the front door (thankfully not breaking it down in his excitement) a proud, friendly smile permanently plastered on his face. Normally Frisk would be overjoyed to see him but right now, his undaunted kindness only made them feel worse and even more scummy. They didn't deserve a cool friend like Papyrus after what they had done to his brother.

The skeleton froze when he spotted the state of the hallway and the dozen or so bones jutting out of the floor. "WHAT HAPPENED HERE? DON'T TELL ME YOU ASKED MY LAZYBONES BROTHER TO SPAR WITH YOU?! BECAUSE WHILE I APPRECIATE YOU TRYING TO HELP HIM GET IN SOME MUCH NEEDED EXERCISE, I'M NOT SURE TORIEL WOULD APPRECIATE YOU DOING IT IN HER HOUSE!" Papyrus paused, a frown briefly flashing across his face as he added, "TRUST ME, I WOULD KNOW."

Frisk said nothing, keeping their head lowered in shame. They didn't want to admit what they had done, not to Papyrus. They had already promised Sans not to breathe a word about 'resets' to his brother, the least Frisk could do was not betray Sans' trust anymore than they already had.

Papyrus took notice of his friend's sad demeanor and immediately took it upon himself to cheer them up. The skeleton swept his scarf behind himself dramatically before loudly declaring, "BUT NOT TO WORRY TINY HUMAN, FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHALL HELP YOU CLEAN UP BEFORE THE LADY TORIEL RETURNS FROM THEIR SHOPPING QUEST!!"

Frisk gave them the bare minimum of a smile, more of a grimace than a full on grin. "Thanks, Paps," was all they could think to say and they nearly flinched at their own sorrowful tone. Geez, since when had they gotten so bad at lying? Back in the Underground they had had the ultimate poker face, only Sans couldn't see through their blank expression. Now they'd be lucky to fool a blind bat with how obvious they were being. Then again, Frisk would hardly consider themselves to be emotional at all back then, feelings besides determination had been hard to come by. Frisk wondered if maybe the Monsters had been helping them this whole time and they hadn't even noticed.

Papyrus, seeing how distressed their dear friend still was, took a better look at the situation, hoping to piece together what exactly had happened to trouble Frisk so greatly. A quick glance around and Papyrus noticed something off. "WHERE IS SANS?"

Frisk bit their lip but hesitantly explained, "He went to Grillby's."

Papyrus let out a long sigh, shaking his skull despite the situation. "THAT LAZYBONES. HOW TYPICAL OF HIM TO MAKE A MESS AND LEAVE ME TO PICK IT UP. HE'S LUCKY HE'S GOT SUCH A COOL YOUNGER BROTHER LOOKING OUT FOR HIM," the skelebro added boastfully.

Frisk shook their head, trying desperately to find some way out of this conversation without admitting to Papyrus what they had done. But no matter what scenario they thought up, they just couldn't come up with anything but the truth. So finally, the young human admitted reluctantly, "Actually me and Sans… had a fight."

"oh," Papyrus replied, for just a moment losing his loud, boisterous attitude. But then, in the blink of an eye, it was back as the skeleton was able to leap high into the air, doing a ridiculous spin as he went, which would normally get a chuckle out of Frisk. He was somehow able to completely clear the railing for the second floor, landing perfectly on his feet in front of his human friend. "NYEH HEH HEH, DO NOT FRET, HUMAN, FOR YOUR GREAT AND COOL FRIEND KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT TO DO TO FIX THIS PROBLEM!"

"You do?" Frisk asked.

"BUT OF COURSE," Papyrus continued, taking on a heroic pose. "IT IS THE DUTY OF ALL ROYAL GUARDS TO HELP OUT OTHERS IN NEED! ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY ARE SUCH DEAR AND IMPORTANT FRIENDS SUCH AS YOU!"

"Papyrus I don't-" Frisk started to interrupt but their skeletal friend was already lost deep in his rant. They were past the point of no return, Frisk often wondered at times like this if even a reset had the power to stop Papyrus.

"I CAN DIVIDE UP OUR PLAN INTO THREE EASY STEPS: STEP 1. LOCATE SANS, STEP 2. PERSUADE HIM TO TALK USING MY WORLD FAMOUS APOLOGY SPAGHETTI (WHICH I WILL GRACIOUSLY LOAN TO YOU), AND FINALLY, STEP 3. AND THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE, YOU BOTH APOLOGIZE AND AGREE TO BE FRIENDS AGAIN."

Frisk shook their head, feeling annoyance bubbling up in their chest, but not at Papyrus. Never at him. "That's not gonna work, Paps! Sans is really upset at me and I deserve that! I really messed up! I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again." The young human hung their head, letting the shame of their actions wash over them.

But Papyrus being Papyrus didn't let this stand, aggressively putting a comforting hand on their shoulder and declaring, "I WILL NOT ALLOW SUCH TALK, FRISK! AS YOUR COOL BEST FRIEND AND SANS' BROTHER I ASSURE YOU WHATEVER YOU DID IS NOT ENOUGH TO RUIN YOUR FRIENDSHIP WITH HIM."

"But how do you-"

"HOW DO I KNOW? WELL IT'S VERY SIMPLE HUMAN, BECAUSE YOU TWO CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER!! I KNOW YOU TWO LIKE I KNOW MY VERY OWN COOL MIND, NYEH, AND I CAN SEE HOW HAPPY YOU TWO ARE TOGETHER!" Papyrus knelt down so he was level with Frisk, giving them a reassuring grin, his eyelights dancing. "YOU'RE OUR VERY DEAR HUMAN, AFTER ALL, AND I KNOW THAT'S HOW SANS FEELS TOO! SO YOU SEE, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR!"

Frisk took a moment to let that sink in, their guilt ridden mind tossing around this idea with skepticism, while their heavy soul flooded with hopeful optimism. They were torn between both and their body couldn't seem to decide which one to listen to more. "You really think he'll listen to me?"

Papyrus nodded energetically. "OF COURSE!! I'D BET IT ON MY GREAT AND POWERFUL NAME, NYEH HEH HEH!"

Frisk couldn't help but smile, a common side effect from being around the enthusiastic skeleton for too long. It was just what Frisk needed, to smile despite the uncertainty and anxiousness of the situation. It made them feel stronger. It made them feel determined.

Once that feeling took hold, drowning out all the negative fears and worries, Frisk knew what they had to do. It wouldn't be an easy option, in fact, it would most likely be terrible but they were determined to make it up to Sans. To regain one of the most important friendships they had. Papyrus was right, they needed Sans just as much as he needed them.

So, after taking in a long breath for courage, Frisk looked up to their skeletal friend and simply asked, "Can you give me a ride?"

…

Grillby couldn't think of the last time he had seen Sans so miserable. The bartender had seen every single side of his friend over the years, both good and bad, even the parts he was quick to hide from everyone else. But even someone as mysterious and secretive as Sans had to break sometimes and, well, it was always in Grillby's company. The flame Monster had debated with himself many times why that was, maybe because Papyrus never came into his bar so Sans didn't feel the need to keep up the act, maybe it was the copious (and to be honest disgusting) amounts of ketchup Sans consumed that helped loosen his metaphorical lips, or maybe the skelebro just found Grillby's presence comforting. Whatever the reason, Grillby was always happy to be there for Sans, for both the good and bad days.

And today was one of his worst. If memory served, the last time Sans had been this depressed was when they were still living underground. To everyone else he probably seemed like his normal, comedic self, greeting the regular patrons both monster and human with his typical lazy wave hello. But Grillby had seen something off immediately in his old friend. He could tell something was eating the skeleton alive and whatever it was was leaving a heavy toll on poor Sans.

The skeletons' eye sockets were shrunken with whatever terrible emotion was plaguing him, his cheekbones stained with dried tears he had hastily tried to rub away. His smiling mouth was twitching which Grillby knew from past experiences was Sans desperately wanting to frown but his unique body structure making it impossible to do so.

Sans looked small, even more than usual, slumping forward as if it was everything he could do to stay upright. To see his dear friend in such a pitiful state made Grillby's soul feel like it was splitting in half.

Of course, asking Sans what was wrong did nothing, the skeleton was a natural born liar. He had quickly shrugged the series of questions off, his smile so believable that anyone who didn't know Sans as well as Grillby did would have believed it. "you know me, i'm always bone-tired, heh."

The other monsters and humans accepted this answer immediately, some even laughing at the poor excuse for a joke, but Grillby wasn't so easy to convince. But he hadn't bothered to push the subject, since it was clear Sans was not in a sharing mood. Instead he just patiently took his order (ketchup as usual) making a mental note to keep an eye on his friend. Today was a busier day at the bar though, so Grillby was sadly not able to watch over Sans as closely as he wanted. Still, at the very least, Sans didn't seem to be getting any worse. But he also didn't seem to be getting any better, either.

Grillby had just made up his mind to try and talk to Sans after closing time, when the pleasant sound of ringing filled his ears thanks to the bell that hung above the door, alerting him a new customer had entered. Grillby glanced over at them quickly, trying not to take too much attention off of the customer who was ordering, but he couldn't help but take note who had entered his humble bar.

The human called Frisk had stepped into Grillby's establishment, looking unsure and nervous, a rarity for the determined young child. He could tell Fisk didn't want to be in there and Grillby could only assume it had less to do with his bar and more of Sans himself. After all, Frisk always seemed right at home there, Sans would often bring them along during his regular visits and Frisk would have a smile on their face from the moment they walked in, until they left with Sans.

Now things were starting to come together. The reason for Sans' terrible mood had to be related to Frisk. The skeleton always seemed happier when the kid was with him, so the fact they had both come in separately… it was clear to Grillby the two had to be fighting, although over what was anyone's guess. Sans and Frisk always seemed to get along swimmingly, Grillby hadn't even seen the two raise their voices at each other. Sometimes Grillby could swear Sans saw himself as Frisk's dad the way he would indiscreetly fuss over them. It was hard to imagine the two weren't on speaking terms.

Frisk glanced around at the crowded bar clutching a large plate wrapped with tin foil against their chest, clearly searching for someone when their eyes met Grillby's. The human gave him a questioning look, which the fire monster returned with a pointed finger towards the front, where Sans sat, still looking small and miserable.

Frisk gave them a halfhearted nod of thanks before slowly pushing their way towards the skeleton. Grillby watched them until an impatient customer grabbed his attention and he was forced to resume focus on his job, though he still cast an occasional glance towards the pair to see how things developed.

When Frisk reached Sans, they hesitated, taking in the sorry sight of their skeleton friend. Sans was slumped onto the bar, his face resting in his boney arms, which meant Frisk's presence had gone unnoticed so far. Normally, anyone would assume the skelebro was asleep, drinking himself to exhaustion but Frisk saw through that. For one thing, he wasn't snoring, which was a telltale sign of Sans lost in dreamland. And Frisk could also see his body shaking, ever so slightly, almost invisible to the naked eye. Sans wasn't sleeping, he was crying, and making it look like his typical lazy demeanor.

Frisk spotted the bottle of ketchup beside him and nearly gasped as they saw it was unopened. Not a drop was missing from Sans' favorite drink and that was a very bad sign. This situation was more serious than Frisk had initially thought. Normally the skeleton would get drunk to hide the terrible feelings welling up inside him, but if he was ignoring the monster-equivalent of alcohol then he must be in a really, really bad place and Frisk wasn't completely sure they could pull him out of it.

Well that thought faded as quickly as it came, replaced with 'determination' and Frisk thought of Papyrus who was waiting outside. He believed Frisk could make this right and so they wanted to believe it too. And if they couldn't… well, Papyrus had mentioned as Frisk hopped out of his car that if they took longer than thirty minutes, he would come in after them.

Having the enthusiastic skeleton for backup allowed Frisk to finally take action, they set the plate of apology spaghetti down on the bar before climbing up onto the stool next to Sans. The skeleton didn't acknowledge them at first, still pretending to sleep. "Sans," Frisk whispered, causing their friend to flinch. Frisk wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't been expecting someone to call his name or because it came from Frisk themself but it hurt either way.

The skeleton slowly raised his head as if it drained him to do so. "oh heya, kiddo, heh, wasn't expecting to see you here." He tried to sound natural but it was clear by the grating edge to his tone, Frisk had been right, Sans had been crying. "guess you were really fired up for some of grillbz cooking, huh? or maybe something was burger-ing you?'' Sans let out a few halfhearted chuckles, his eye sockets glued to the countertop.

"Sans," Frisk began, keeping their voice steady. "I came cause I needed to tell you something about earlier."

"oh, heh, you're ready to reset already. Guess that's fair, i couldn't bring myself to get that last final drink but… seems like I'm just delaying the inevitable. thanks for waiting on me, kid. i'm… ready when you are."

"Sans, no! That's not what I mean!" Frisk exclaimed, growing frustrated, but not at Sans, at themselves for causing this whole stupid mess. "You're not listening to me! I'm not resetting!" They hadn't meant to raise their voice, they really hadn't but it seemed to be the only way to get through Sans' thick skull.

Sans stared at them long and hard, his piercing black sockets trying to read Frisk like a book and the human did their best to portray trustworthiness in their body language, making a point to keep their eyes locked with Sans' sockets. After a few endless minutes of judgement, Sans finally asked, "and your really bein' honest with me? because you can tell me if not, i promise i can take it."

Frisk shook their head, their small hands clenched into fists on their lap, wrinkling the pant leg in their strong grip. "I'm telling the truth. I don't want to go back, I don't ever want to go back! I couldn't ask for a better ending. Everyone's happy and finally getting to live life thanks to me. Papyrus gets to drive his car every day, even though he's really slow and keeps getting tickets." Frisk smiled warmly as they thought of the hyperactive skeleton, tears beginning to form at the corners of their eyes as they thought of what all would be lost if they ever gave in. "Undyne finally has the freedom to do more than fight all the time and can watch as many stupid awesome animes they want. And Alphys is so confident she doesn't stutter or talk bad about herself anymore. Mettaton's more famous then he ever was Underground and it's even better because now he gets to share that popularity with Blooky and Shyren. And every day, mom and dad look so happy just getting to garden or teach instead of trying to carry everyone's burdens on their shoulders. And Papyrus and I can both see how much better you are since coming to the surface and I would never want to take that away from you or anyone."

Frisk sniffed, wiping their eyes on the back of their sleeve, trying to recover enough to continue. Sans just watched them with growing concern, petrified by their tears since the skeleton had never once seen them cry in the entire time he knew them, which was probably more than anyone else, human or monster. So the fact he was seeing this now left him completely off-guard and clueless as to how to react. He made several moves to comfort them but talked himself out of it at the last second, not wanting to make things worse.

Still the fact he noticeably cared was enough to provide a small sense of comfort to Frisk and they were grateful for it. "But it's not just the monsters," Frisk continued as soon as they got their voice back. "This is the happiest I've ever been in my life! I have a real family and friends that love me and take care of me and I don't ever want any of that to go away!"

Frisk continued to sniffle, trying to keep the sobs buried at the back of their throat, the sadness returning faster than they could stop it, this time stronger than before. Tears ran down their cheeks and they hiccuped out the rest of what they had to say. "B-But no matter what I do or how much I say I won't, you always think I'm gonna reset everything. I can't convince you! Am I really that bad a person that you can't ever trust me?!" With that, the floodgates burst open and Frisk began to sob uncontrollably, doubling over in their seat and weeping pitifully into their hands.

The moment their sobs began, Sans knew he could no longer just sit and watch, now was the time to act. Without a word the skelebro reached over and swooped Frisk into his arms, holding them in a tight but loving hug against his chest. He cooed soothing words into their ear while rocking them back and forth in his seat. He had an arm protectively around their frame, while the other he ran through their short, brown hair. Sans didn't even care that his favorite jacket was now soaked in the kid's tears, all that mattered was comforting his kiddo.

It randomly occured to Sans that this had to be quite the sight for the other patrons of the bar, a small human child sobbing into a forever-grinning skeleton monster. Not that he particularly cared what anyone thought of his and Frisk’s friendship. Still he did take a quick glance around the bar to see if anyone had noticed the situation. Sure enough, the outburst had attracted the attention of every monster and human inside, a few of them seemed putoff by the sight like Sans expected but most just looked concerned, especially the regulars. The dogs had all started whining in concern, Lesser Dog's neck stretching out towards Frisk. Even Grillby had stopped what he was doing to watch the scene play out, Sans reading the worry from his flaming face.

The skeleton quickly returned his attention back to Frisk as they began to shake and hiccup, their sobs slowly dying down in strength. Sans listened to their choked breaths before he decided to try and risk a joke, hoping it would lighten the mood and lift the kid’s spirits a little. “well, call me a half-eaten plate of cookies because now I feel pretty crumby.” Between their sobs, Frisk let out a little laugh, small and halfhearted but it was music to Sans’ ears. He would take any form of joy over listening to them cry a moment longer. Heck, he would prefer a reset over the soul-breaking sobs bursting from his poor kid, especially since he was part of the cause of their tears.

He waited until they had recovered enough to listen, saying in a soft, gentle tone, “listen frisk, i’m so sorry i made you feel that way… that i didn’t trust you. I know you may not believe it but i probably trust you more than myself, heh.” Sans gave Frisk a little squeeze for reassurance. “so please don’t blame yourself for this dumb comedian’s mistake, babybones.”

“You aren’t dumb,” Frisk spoke up, their voice muffled by Sans’ jacket.

“and you aren’t a bad person,” the skeleton monster countered.

Frisk finally pulled their face out of Sans’ jacket, staring up at him with tear-stained vision. “So… you aren’t mad at me?”

Sans almost laughed out loud at the question, the ridiculousness of it all astounding to him. Here he was trying to comfort Frisk after causing them to cry, all because he couldn’t accept that his time in the underground was finally over, that Frisk really wouldn’t reset and trap them all down there again. If anything they should be mad at him, not the other way around.

“of course i’m not mad, kiddo,” Sans finally replied, rubbing a hand up and down Frisk's back in a soothing motion. “ i just got a little too sans-itive back there.” The two both chuckled at the joke, a real, genuine smile returning to Frisk’s face. That’s better, Sans thought with relief. He did a quick scan around the rest of the bar and saw that everyone else had visibly relaxed too, now that Frisk had finally stopped crying.

Since he got the kid calm he figured now was as good a time as any to get some answers so he set them back in their own seat while asking, “so, uh, if you don’t mind me askin’ what were you doing before, if you weren’t trying to reset?"

Frisk tensed, biting their lip and looking down at their lap but thankfully there were no more tears like Sans worried there might be. The human child took a long moment, building up the courage to say, shifting uncomfortably in their seat and not meeting Sans’ eye. Clearly it was something they didn’t want to discuss. Sans was about to change the subject and be done with it but Frisk spoke up just in time. “I was… trying to find a way to destroy the ‘reset’ button,” they admitted sadly.

Sans blinked, the only shock and surprise he let show on his face. He wasn’t expecting that. “uhhh, okay seems a bit weird since you yourself said you never wanted to reset again,” the skeleton responded finally.

“Yeah, but…” Frisk paused, their eyes flooding with fear while their small fingers fiddled with the front of Sans’ jacket, clenching and unclenching the fabric in their grip. All at once they seemed so very far away, lost in their own world and Sans feared he wouldn’t be able to reach them from where he was, he feared it was a path Frisk was trying to walk alone.

“kid?” Sans whispered worriedly, cupping their cheek in his skeletal palm. Frisk’s eyes refocused, snapping them out of whatever horrible vision they had just been shown and they hesitantly met Sans’ gaze. “c’mon, tell me what’s wrong.”

Frisk took in a deep breath, in and out, before admitting, “I-I’m afraid of m-myself.”

Again this was not what Sans was expecting but he made sure not to let his surprise show on his face, knowing Frisk needed unflinching support at this time. “what, a nice kid like you? What could you possibly have to fear about yourself?”

“T-That I’ll reset anyways. That I’m not determined enough to keep this happy ending. That’ll I’ll… ruin everything,” Frisk said, their eyes filling with shame.

Sans gave them a small pat on the head. “but i thought you were determined not to reset? that you’re happy the way things are.”

“But what if it doesn’t last?” Frisk asked, clutching Sans’ jacket so tightly their knuckles turned white, their eyes pleading and desperate as they looked to their skeletal friend for answers. “What if something goes wrong a-and I stop being happy? And then the temptation comes back and I can’t stop myself from-from going back there.” Frisk was starting to hyperventilate and Sans started rubbing circles on their back again, trying to keep them breathing regularly. At this rate he wouldn’t be surprised if the kid passed out on him. “I don’t want this to end Sans, I don’t want to disappoint you or break our promise but the fact that I don’t know for sure terrifies me!”

Sans took a minute to respond to that, keeping a blank expression while inwardly battling with the turmoil that was threatening to crush him. On one hand, he was afraid of the exact same thing, too. Afraid of waking up back underground, powerless to stop it, completely at the whim of an unpredictable human. And yet, Sans could tell Frisk needed comfort, reassurance, and he was the only one who could provide it, the only one who understood what they were going though. It had never once occurred to Sans that Frisk might be going through the same fears he was and he wanted to slap himself for being so self-centered he hadn’t even noticed the struggles his dear friend was going through on their own.

And despite his fears, what he said to them before rang true. He believed in Frisk. Sure they had messed up before (heck wasn’t like he was exactly Mr. Perfect either) but they had worked so hard to make up for past mistakes and then some. Without them, Sans wouldn’t be free, his family and friends would still be trapped underground, slowly losing their hope of ever seeing freedom for themselves. Sans had judged Frisk more times then he could count, but that last time, before they broke the barrier and declared they would never reset again, he could see they were determined to do right. There had been resolve in their eyes that day at the Judgement Hall, filled with the strength to do good. They held themselves taller than they ever had before and the way the light reflected off their skin and clothes, they looked like a real hero, like… an angel. That was the moment Sans knew things would be different this time, the first time in a long line of resets he allowed himself to hope. Small and fragile, yes, but it was what started him down the right path to fixing himself and he had needed that more than he even knew at the time.

So if he wasn’t willing to return the favor, then he’d be a real, bone-ified jerk. Heh. Not to mention a massive hypocrite. Besides he was positive if Frisk started crying again then he would start weeping some very unmanly tears, too, and he did not want to explain to the other patrons of the bar what caused his own water works, especially Grillby. He was already pushing it by coming there in such a depressed state, if the bar owner caught sight of him crying… well, he might just have to find a new place to drink his favorite brand of ketchup just to get him off his back.

Sans wasn’t exactly the most experienced when it came to cheering people up, despite his jokes and pour sense of humor he was too much of a cynic to do much of that, but he had a pretty good idea what to say to the kid to ease their mind a little. So, one deep breath later, he gave their hair a good, long ruffle, not enough to hurt them but still strong enough that they were tipped slightly forward by the action.

When he was finished, Frisk seemed taken aback by his response, their hair standing up at odd angles and their eyes wide with confusion but Sans’ plan had worked, he had successfully drawn their attention away from their own troubling thoughts and that was a win in his mind. “c'mon, kiddo,” Sans began, giving them a fake scolding look (which wasn’t easy to do when you are always smiling). “what kinda talk is that? thought you were supposed to be the ‘most determined’ or whatever. you seriously trying to tell me you're afraid of some button after literally coming back from death itself dozens of times?”

Frisk didn’t respond, just staring at the skeleton blankly, so he decided to continue on with his speech, making sure the message sunk in deep. nah, sorry not buyin’ it.” He shook his head before putting on a warm smile, one he knew Frisk would recognize. “the frisk i know is way too stubborn for that. so stop tellin’ yourself otherwise.”

“But Sans, what if something happens? What if things go wrong and ‘resetting’ might be easier?” Frisk asked, fear flooding their vision for a moment as they gripped his jacket fearfully.

But Sans just shrugged it off, reassuring his kid, “then we’ll deal with it. i’m sure between the two us, we numbskulls can come up with some kind of solution that doesn’t involve resetting.”

Frisk smiled a little at the pun but they were too focused on the rest of that sentence to comment on it. “‘We’?” they repeated in a small voice as if uncertain they had heard Sans' right.

The skeleton just nodded his head, winking down at his human friend. “that’s right, kiddo. no matter what happens or if things go terribly right or terribly wrong, i'll be right there by your side, so that we can face it together.”

“You mean it?” Frisk asked hopefully. They wanted to believe that. They wanted so badly to believe they weren’t be alone in dealing with this anymore. But after everything they had done to Sans, even if he didn’t blame them, Frisk just couldn’t accept that as the truth.

“of course i meant it. What kind of dunkle would i be if i wasn’t there to help my kid through a crisis?” he winked playfully at his kiddo but it still didn't quite get through Frisk's barrier.

They at least gave a small halfhearted smile at the nickname they had made up for Sans but they just weren't convinced. After all, Sans had proven he was a pretty good liar. How could they know for sure he was telling the truth? That he wasn't just saying what they wanted to hear like adults tended to do.

The skelebro could see the doubt on their face and so swept them up into another tight hug before saying, "i'll be here for you, kiddo. no matter what. i promise."

Frisk’s mouth dropped open at the word ‘promise’. Sans hated making promises. He avoided committing himself to pretty much anything just to avoid the responsibility and consequences promises brought with them. Despite that, it was obvious promises were something Sans regarded highly, because when he did make them, he did not take them lightly. They were the only reason he hadn’t just disposed of Frisk the first time they met. In all the resets and all the different outcomes Sans had never once spoken those words to them and Frisk had honestly believed he never would. So for him to say those words without force or question or any kind of convincing blew Frisk's mind!

Frisk pulled out of the hug, so they could show Sans their disbelief, giving him a look resembling a gapping fish. The skeleton couldn't help but chuckle at the odd expression (not that he blamed them) before giving their hair another good ruffle. "yeah, yeah, i know. 'i hate makin' promises','' he shrugged as he repeated his old words back to himself. "But if it helps ease your mind and keeps this from happening again…" Sans gestured around the bar, stopping at the unopened bottle of ketchup. "...then i guess it's worth it."

Frisk let out a long puff of air, their face relaxing for the first time in an hour. "So I guess you really condi-meant it," they replied and the two burst into laughter. Sans' laugh roared around the fairly-sized bar, drawing many questioning eyes onto the pair but neither noticed nor cared. All the stress and tension that had built up within them was finally able to be let out, a normal, pleasant calm falling over the pair.

From where he stood cleaning out empty shot glasses, Grillby smiled to himself, happy to hear Sans' laughter in his bar again. The place always felt empty without it, even if the skeleton was a bit of a handful.

"you have no idea how much I pro-missed hearing that laugh of yours, buddy, heh," Sans admitted jokingly, winking down at the giggling Frisk. This only made them laugh harder until there were tears in their eyes.

Seeing that now was the right moment for it, Sans offered the kid his hand to shake. "so how's about it, frisk, partners against time?"

Frisk smiled and nodded vigorously, taking the skeleton's outstretched hand. A loud fart noise echoed through the bar, any newcomers there stopping what they were doing with a look of disgust. Grillby's happy smile turned to an annoyed frown, facepalming in utter frustration and disappointment. He made a mental note to talk to Sans on a day he was doing better because at this rate he was gonna scare away all of his business.

Frisk and Sans, on the other hand, both snorted, trying to hold in their laughter. But when Sans flipped over his hand revealing the whoopie cushion taped onto his palm the two lost it, laughing uncontrollably at the prank, Frisk holding their stomach from lack of oxygen.

Finally, their roars of laughter died down to a low rumble, then a scattering of chortles. Once Frisk and Sans had worn themselves out, they both just took a moment to catch their breath, panting heavily and grinning ear to ear (or non-ears in Sans' case). Once the skeleton could speak again, he lazily stated, "welp, better get back home before pap freaks out and goes lookin' for us." Sans quickly swiped up the ketchup bottle off the counter, popping the lid off and finally taking a massive gulp from the bottle before sliding it away into his jacket for later. No use letting it go to waste, after all.

“Ummmm,” Frisk mumbled, looking over at the clock on the wall, quickly reading the time. It was only a few seconds till 7:30, right when Paps had said he would come in. “About that-”

Just as the clock switched over from 7:29 to 7:30, the door to the bar busted open, the loud noise startling human and monster alike, a silence falling over the place as all turned to see who had so hastily entered their place of relaxation. Papyrus stood proudly in the doorway his scarf waving in the wind somehow, despite there not being any wind to speak of. The door itself was now nothing but splintered wood from where Papyrus had kicked it open and Grillby hung his head in defeat, already dreading another phone call to the very frustrated door repair man. The skelebro ignored all the confused and judging stares from around the bar, his focus on his brother and friends spotting them near the back. “SANS! HUMAN! DO NOT FEAR FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HERE TO HELP YOU SOLVE YOUR DIFFERENCES AND BECOME BEST FRIENDS AGAIN!” the skeleton declared loudly.

“bro?” Sans asked in confusion, an eyebrow slowly raising. He glanced over at Frisk, who offered a sheepish expression as the only means of explanation. “so, you got my bro in on this too, huh?” Sans commented before passing it off with a shrug. “heh, guess i can’t blame you, he is too cool to go without.”

“OF COURSE I AM!” Papyrus agreed, putting a hand to his chest. He quickly snapped out of his self-congratulatory praise though and returned focus to things almost as important as he was. “BUT DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" he scolded, moving his gloved hands to his protruding hips. "SANS, I DON’T KNOW ENTIRELY WHAT THE TINY HUMAN DID TO UPSET YOU BUT I’M SURE WHATEVER IT WAS IS NOT ENOUGH TO STOP BEING THEIR FRIEND. IF YOU DID STOP BEING THEIR FRIEND YOU WOULD FEEL BAD AND WHEN I WAS OUT HANGING OUT WITH FRISK YOU WOULD PROBABLY LAZE AROUND AT HOME AND I DON’T NEED ANY MORE EXCUSES FOR YOU TO BE LAZY.”

bro, it’s fine,” Sans spoke up, trying to sound as reassuring as he could. “frisk and i already worked things out.”

“OH.” Papyrus paused for a second or two, letting that process, before he stuck a dramatic pose and proudly declared, “WOWIE! I’M EVEN BETTER AT THIS THEN I THOUGHT! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“you sure are, bro,” Sans agreed, pulling the bottle of ketchup out and taking a small sip.

“You’re the greatest, Papyrus!” Frisk added, smiling up at the tall skeleton.

“WELL YES I AM, THANK YOU FOR NOTICING, TINY HUMAN FRISK!” Papyrus picked Frisk and Sans up and pulled them into a loving hug. “AND YOU AND MY BROTHER, even though he is very lazy, ARE VERY GREAT AS WELL, NYEH HEH HEH!”

Frisk hugged the skelebro back while Sans just hung loosely from his arm, already fighting sleep, but still smiled nonetheless. “we’re only cool cause we hang out with you, bro,” Sans said, his words already starting to slur.

“SANS ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW? YOU JUST MADE UP WITH FRISK! WE MUST CELEBRATE ANOTHER VICTORY FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS.”

“you know me, bro. I’m… the best at being la….zzzzy,” Sans began to snore loudly and Papyrus let out an over dramatic sigh. Frisk covered their mouth to keep their giggles from escaping, finding the two skeletons immensely funny and entertaining. There was never a dull moment with them around.

Papyrus put a gloved hand to his forehead, before commenting bitterly, “I CAN’T TELL IF THAT WAS MEANT TO BE A PUN OR YOU ARE JUST REALLY THAT LAZY.”

“bit of both,” Sans muttered in his sleep.

“OKAY, YOU LAZY BONES, IT’S TIME TO GO HOME AND PUT YOU IN YOUR PROPER BED, SINCE MY ARM DOES NOT COUNT AS ONE,” Papyrus declared, already stomping towards the door.

“Wait, Papyrus, can’t we at least get something to eat first?” Frisk asked, sheepishly, rubbing their stomach. “I’m really hungry.”

“NOT TO WORRY, HUMAN. FOR TGE GREAT PAPYRUS ALWAYS PLANS AHEAD, NYEH HEH HEH! YOU CAN EAT MY APOLOGY SPAGHETTI ON THE WAY HOME."

Frisk made a face, trying their hardest not to let their disgust show. Although Paps’ cooking had gotten better since getting to the surface, it was still mostly inedible. And the smell of burgers and fries had already filled their nostrils, making their stomach growl in want.

Luckily, Sans already had a solution to this dilemma, his right eye lighting up blue, unseen by Papyrus, thanks to how he was draped over his bro's arm. The plate of unopened spaghetti then also turned the pale color to match the skeleton's eye, before it suddenly scooted itself across the bar and onto the floor below. There was a shattering sound heard from Grillby's side of the table, said monster watching the plate fall before whipping his head in the direction of Sans, fuming with anger.

Sans shrugged to the fire monster, hoping he would take that as an apology, while telling Papyrus, "sorry, bro. already are it all. you know apology spaghetti is my favorite spaghetti. you can taste the remorse in every bite."

Papyrus gasped, setting the human down so he could hold Sans at arms length (startling the older brother) his eyelights somehow sparkling with joy to convey just how happy he was to his brother. "OH SANS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME TO HEAR YOU SAY THAT, NYEH HEH HEH! I ALMOST FORGOT HOW MUCH YOU ENJOYED MY COOKING! YOU ARE THE BEST BROTHER I EVER HAD!"

"heh, pretty sure i'm your only brother, too," Sans mentioned.

Papyrus began spinning them in a circle, which Sans' body instantly disliked, the place where his stomach would be groaning in protest. "OH BUT IT'S TRUE! I'M CONFIDENT EVEN IF YOU WEREN'T MY ONLY BROTHER YOU WOULD STILL BE THE GREATEST BECAUSE ONLY THE BEST BROTHER WOULD LOVE MY SPAGHETTI SO MUCH!"

Sans put a hand over his smiling mouth, trying to keep his dinner down. "paps, ya think you could stop with all the spinning before this spaghetti turns into seafood?" The skelebro asked miserably.

Papyrus did stop, looking at his brother in confusion. "WAIT, HOW WOULD IT DO THAT?"

Sans shrugged nonchalantly, despite his pale complexion, his face beading with sweat, and his groaning insides. "because, uh, y'know cause i was gonna throw it up."

Papyrus frowned at his brother muttering, "FIRST OF ALL, SANS, THAT IS DISGUSTING. SECONDLY, WE ARE SKELETON MONSTERS, FOOD JUST TURNS INTO MAGIC. WE PHYSICALLY CANNOT THROW UP."

"i hear ya, bro, but the rest of me just can't stomach it," Sans replied simply.

Papyrus stared at him blankly before shouting, "OH MY GOSH, SANS! THAT ONE WASN'T EVEN CLEVER!"

"hey, you can't blame me for the bad puns, bro," Sans pleaded, although there was not a hint of remorse or regret on his face. "i'm just too excited to get to spin more time with the great papyrus."

Papyrus smiled, saying brightly, "WHY THANK YOU SANS, I KNOW I'M VERY GREAT-" However, he froze upon realizing the pun his older brother had just made. "SANS! WHY MUST YOU RUIN OUR MOMENTS WITH YOUR INFERNAL PUNS!" Papyrus stomped his foot once in anger, while Sans just rolled with laughter. He was soon having to clutch his front, his rib bones aching from the uncontrollable laughing fit.

Papyrus just rolled his eyes, knowing there was not much more he could do about his brother's obsession with terrible puns. In all honesty though, Papyrus would happily endure as many terrible jokes as it took if it meant getting to see his brother this happy. Not that he would ever, ever admit it to him.

Papyrus felt a small tug on his scarf and looked down to see Frisk staring up at him with a hopeful expression. “Soooo, does that mean I can have something to eat here?” They put their hands together in a pleading motion, begging with their eyes to try and break through the skeleton’s barriers. Papyrus avoided their eye for a moment, seeming to think it over.

From behind the three, Grillby crossed his arms, staring at Papyrus long and hard as he waited for the skeleton’s answer, the flames around his head burning a little stronger than normal. The least Papyrus could do after breaking his door (again) was buy something so that Grillby could afford to replace it. Still he didn’t voice this out loud because Papyrus was Papyrus and he really couldn’t stay mad at him for long. He was as charming and naive as he was destructive. With a combo like that, Grillby figured he would be paying for a lot of repairs if it meant having the skelebros around.

Sans, however, would be getting a firm lecture from him once they were alone because his bar was not a trash can, nor should it be treated that way. Although even Sans was difficult to punish, if Grillby had a right mind he would have banned them both ages ago, but he had a soft spot for the skeletons so he tolerated all their strange antics and pranks even if he probably shouldn’t.

Finally, Papyrus seemed to reach a decision as he said in a halfhearted tone, “VERY WELL, SINCE I KNOW YOU TWO LOVE THIS PLACE, for reasons i don’t quite understand, WE MAY EAT SOMETHING HERE BEFORE GOING HOME TO MY SPAGHETTI.”

Frisk hugged Papyrus’ leg, saying excitedly, “Thanks, Papy! You're the best!”

“I KNOW, NYEH HEH HEH,” Papyrus replied warmly, giving them a loving pat on the head before sending them off to order.

Sans finally stopped laughing long enough to call over to the kid, “hey, frisk, buy me a burger would ya?”

“I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY ATE MY SPAGHETTI?” Papyrus questioned his brother in confusion.

A few drops of sweat ran down his skull as Sans tried to think up a response to that, finally settling on, “i got a ton of room left, bro.”

“SANNSSSS….” Papyrus growled in a warning tone.

But this didn’t stop Sans at all as he finished his joke with his signature wink, “a skele-ton.”

“UGH, WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER?!” Papyrus shouted out of annoyance for his lazy brother.

“c’mon you can’t stay mad at me, bro. we both know you love my puns,” Sans said, giving his brother a little pat on the shoulder.

Papyrus sighed dramatically. “I SWEAR SANS I WILL DROP YOU AND THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO WALK YOURSELF HOME,” the skeleton threatened, though they both knew it was just a bluff. Papyrus would never drop his one HP brother for any reason, especially over a couple of bad puns. And even if he did, Sans had his shortcuts. But the older skeleton bro knew the real reason such a threat would never come to pass.

“no, you won’t. you love carrying me around,” Sans pointed out in a nearly teasing tone.

“I ADMIT NO SUCH THING,” the tall skeleton stubbornly responded, even though they both knew the truth.

“thanks for being there for me and the kid, bro,” Sans suddenly said, his tone switching from joking to serious in an instant. “it really means a lot to me.”

“YOU ARE WELCOME, BROTHER,” Papyrus replied sweetly. But his jovial tone turned bittersweet as he added a bit sadly, “I’M JUST GLAD YOU AND THE HUMAN AREN’T FIGHTING ANYMORE. I KNOW YOU TWO ARE VERY CLOSE SO SEEING YOU UPSET AT ONE ANOTHER IS VERY DIFFICULT TO WATCH.”

Sans didn’t respond to that, just watching as Frisk cheerfully spoke to Grillby, who was busy preparing the food, their light smile and happy laugh making Sans feel hopeful again. It was strange, all the years of darkness and despair, of endless resets and depression and death, they felt so far away when Frisk smiled. It made him want to smile too and keep smiling forever. There was still a lot to do to put himself back together but it no longer felt impossible. And it was all thanks to his kid, Frisk.

“UM, I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED,” Papyrus reluctantly spoke up, cutting through Sans’ thoughts. “BUT DO YOU THINK YOU TWO WILL FIGHT OVER WHATEVER IT WAS AGAIN? BECAUSE IF SO THEN I SHOULD KEEP SOME APOLOGY SPAGHETTI READY FOR IF OR WHEN THAT HAPPENS.”

Sans thought that over for a moment, looking up at Frisk again. Grillby had just finished with their order consisting of two burgers, some fries, and a vanilla milkshake for Papyrus. The human child must have felt their eye sockets on them because Frisk turned and waved over to the pair, smiling truly and genuinely at their very dear friends. And that look was all it took to give Sans his answer. “nah, bro. i think me and frisk are done doing the same thing over and over again. it’s time to start doing somethin’ new. and i for one am really set to start livin, heh.”

A/N: Yes the last line was sorta a pun. More of an inside joke though XD

#Undertale #My writing #Sans #Frisk #Papyrus #Dunkle Sans

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donttouchmeimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Argo ch. 1

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

2897 words, 3rd person POV

This is not following canon closely at all and I'm kinda blending bits of Jason's personality between original movies, the remake, and fan versions so this is pretty solidly AU. I hope you enjoy!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

There was no pleasure in killing. It was a task, like any other, but one that had to be done adequately. Even if it took several tries and the body was mangled by the end of it, the life had to be gone from their eyes.

"We can't have them coming back to hurt us, can we?"

Mother was right. Mother was always right. She was the only one who cared. She was the only one who knew kindness. It was her idea and her decision to take revenge against the wicked counselors of Camp Crystal Lake, and what she wanted, she would get.

She had nearly died herself trying to punish the ones responsible for her son's drowning, and so the pair needed to live in hiding, deep in the woods surrounding the camp. It took over ten years of teaching and training, but it was finally time. Mother knew best, and Jason Voorhees was willing to serve her every command.

Four years ago, Jason began his killing spree. He picked off the counselors one by one, catching each in a deadly infraction. He worked carefully at first, making the disappearances look like believable shirking of duties or horrible accidents. That year, authorities ruled the camp could reopen for the next season with some extra safety precautions. Jason was praised so lovingly that year.

The second year, Jason continued his streak, but allowed himself to get a little sloppy. The murders were attributed to one of the staff members, and no one was the wiser to his presence (or, more importantly, his mother's). The camp was forcibly closed for the following season, and Jason's mother prayed it would stay closed and they could be free of the evil of the counselors who knew no compassion.

But, as an investigation cleared the camp of outside interference, further cementing the falsely accused staff member as the murderer, Crystal Lake reopened for another season, forcing Jason out of hiding once more. He did not want to go back, having enjoyed the peaceful summer with his mother last year, but he knew he had a job to do. He dusted off his mask, sharpened his machete, and set out for Camp Crystal Lake once more.

This year already felt different for Jason. Perhaps it was the time off, or perhaps he was growing tired of killing, but this year he decided to approach things in a different way. He spent the first two weeks of camp watching from the shadows, identifying the counselors and their habits. There were eight of them: four men, four women. Their ages were uncertain, but it seemed the youngest was about seventeen and the oldest was about twenty-five, the majority being roughly twenty-one. College age, Mother had said, was the worst age for most folks. Leftover rebellion from their adolescence and newfound freedom created a sinful breeding ground for debauchery and cruelty that needed to be punished. Jason was of this age now as well, and he had promised to not let himself lose sight of his task.

During the weeks Jason watched the camp, he noticed a few important details. First, he noticed that ghost stories about the murders he and his mother had committed were being told at nightly bonfires, embellished to near supernatural lengths. This excited Jason to some degree, seeing that his hard work had noticeable impact years later. Second, he noticed there were no hikes on the outer trails and strict curfews were imposed on both the campers and the counselors, keeping the grounds barren between the hours of 9PM and 7AM. This rule would make Jason's work difficult if he planned on making any of these deaths appear accidental, but he could improvise if needed.

The third detail, and the most curious of all, Jason noticed that out of all eight counselors, one stood out as unique. The first distinctive feature was that he was shorter than the rest of his coworkers, somewhere close to five feet tall. Jason almost mistook him for a camper at first, but the back of his shirt clearly read 'COUNSELOR'. What truly set him apart from the rest, however, was how attentive he was to the campers. He made sure every voice was heard and no one felt left out. He kept a bright and supportive demeanor no matter the circumstances, and helped the campers with every activity. Furthermore, he did not seem interested in sneaking off to sacrifice his job duties in favor of more lecherous behavior. Jason found himself growing fascinated with this counselor, and opted to watch him a little more closely to see if he had any damning secrets that would confirm his impending death with the rest.

Another week dragged on, and Jason regrettably had lost track of time. He followed this seemingly kind counselor as he engaged the children in their activities and lent a listening ear to those who had problems or concerns. What could he be hiding? Mother was certain that anyone who took a job at this camp was a bad person, and Mother was always right...right?

"Alright, everyone!" the strange counselor called one morning, catching the attention of his group, "It's Friday tomorrow, and that means s'mores night!"

He allowed for a brief cheer from the kids before quieting them down again to continue,

"S'mores are really nice, aren't they?" Whoops and words of agreement rose from the group. "Do we agree that nice kids deserve to have nice treats?" More affirmations rang out. "That's right! But it's come to my attention, as well as the other counselors, that there's been some of you who haven't been as nice as they should be."

Jason leaned forward from his seated vantage point on a log, listening curiously to the counselor's teaching moment. Would he punish the whole group of kids for a minority's bad behavior? Would he revoke s'mores privileges? Would he try to drown some of the children in the lake? That last one was unlikely, but the thought still crossed Jason's mind. The counselor continued,

"Here at Camp Crystal Lake, we value honesty, teamwork, and what else?"

"Accountability," the children chorused.

"Exactly right," he praised, "And if one of us is being picked on, it's up to the rest of us to help them feel included, right?"

"Right!"

The counselor clapped his hands together, smiling kindly at the group.

"I don't want anyone to feel like they're in trouble, so we're gonna make this into a game, okay?" he proposed, "We're all detectives looking for clues on whodunnit. We have to solve the mystery of who's being a bully and have them apologize by tomorrow night, or all the s'mores will have to go away until next week. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," the kids answered, somewhat anxious now that the promised snacks might be withheld.

"Awesome! Here are the rules of the game: you can't force someone to give you a clue if they don't want to. That would defeat the purpose of the game! You also can't point any fingers until the bonfire is lit tomorrow night. If the person who was mean wants to come forward on their own, they have to come to me or one of the other counselors so it doesn't spoil the end of the game. Once the person is revealed, they have to apologize to the person they hurt and will spend the weekend making it up to them because, here at Camp Crystal Lake, we want everyone to have a great time. If one of us isn't having a good time, we all have to work together to help them so we can leave here at the end of the summer with the best memories and the best friends. So let me hear it from you guys: are we ready to go out and have a great day?"

The kids burst into another round of cheers and the counselor shepherded them off to their first activity of the day. Jason propped his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin in his hand. He frowned in contemplation. This counselor was so dedicated to the kids...could he be an exception? Could Jason's mother have been wrong? He would have to catch this counselor alone to find out more. He still had plenty of time to dispatch the whole staff, he figured, so he had the time to learn what he could about this one counselor.

Jason stalked the counselor over the next few hours, watching him be the perfect role model for the kids as usual. Finally, sometime near midday, the counselor took a break after passing his group to another and announced he was going to check the nearest hiking trail for debris before he took the kids on it later. One of the female counselors offered to walk with him, and Jason detected signs of flirtation in her body language, but he refused, claiming it would be a short trip. Jason felt his heart beat faster with anticipation, following him just out of sight as he walked the trail, moving any large sticks or rocks from the path. Jason flexed his fingers on the hilt of his machete, wondering if he should kill him now despite having no evidence yet that he was a bad person. He resolved he would wait until they were far enough away from the camp where screams would not carry, then he would decide.

The counselor moved at a brisk and energetic pace, enjoying his time alone. He seemed so full of life and vigor...Jason almost felt bad that he was planning on murdering him. The counselor stopped at a fallen branch blocking the path and looked it over, his hands on his hips.

"That's a big one," he commented to himself, "I hope I can get it out of the way on my own."

With that he bent down to lift one end of the branch, stepping backwards to drag it off the trail. From Jason's position, he could see another, smaller branch on the ground behind the counselor, twisted and gnarled, but big enough to pose a hazard. Jason watched as the counselor caught his foot on the hidden branch and tumbled backwards, rolling through the leaves and sticks as he fell down the slope. He went over a slanted rock near the bottom and crumpled on the other side of a rotting log, his ankle caught in a hole in the log. Jason slowly approached, minding his steps down the slope so he would not fall as well.

The counselor grunted in pain as he pushed himself up on his elbows and attempted to free his leg from the log. He had dirt on his face and debris in his hair and, as Jason drew closer and could see more clearly, cuts and scrapes all over his arms and legs. Unsuccessful in his attempts, the counselor fell back on his elbows, breathing hard. He craned his neck to look over the log, having heard the approaching footsteps, and his eyes met Jason's, mere feet away.

"Oh my gosh, you startled me!" he greeted, "Thank goodness someone else was on the trail! I'm okay, by the way, I'm just a little stuck. Can you help me out?"

Jason froze as the counselor addressed him. Oddly enough, he didn't seem afraid, despite Jason's hulking stature, out of place hockey mask, and freshly sharpened blade in hand. He tilted his head to one side, puzzled. He hadn't been this close to another person (aside from his mother) in almost two years, but he distinctly remembered every person he had been this close to fearing him on sight. He looked down at his machete, wondering what was holding him back from stabbing this man and walking away. It was all so easy before...

"Ooh, yes, you came prepared!" the counselor said, noticing the machete as well, "If you're careful, you can probably hack around the opening so I can get my foot loose. If you want, I can get you some free food back at camp for helping me out. It's not much, but Miriam makes a mean chicken salad."

He smiled up at Jason, and Jason felt his heart stop for a moment. There was not a single flicker of fear in the counselor's eyes. All he could see was the same gentle expression shown to the kids back at camp. An unfamiliar feeling came over Jason and, for the first time in years, he felt compelled to help. He raised the machete, his eyes focused on the counselor's trapped leg. His breathing hitched, one part of his mind urging him to kill as Mother instructed, the other begging him to show mercy, just this once. He glanced back at the counselor's face, at that warm smile, and made his choice.

The machete swung down and struck the wood of the log, sending a spray of splinters into the air. The counselor winced, shielding his eyes from the shower, and tried to wiggle his leg loose.

"Still a little stuck," he announced, "I think one more whack on the other side oughta do it."

Jason wrenched the blade out of the wood and swung again on the other side of the counselor's leg. As predicted, the counselor was able to maneuver himself out of the weakened structure. He brushed the splinters and dirt off of his skin and shakily stood up, clearly in some pain from the fall.

"Thank you," he said to Jason, his smile returning, "Really, I would have been in some trouble if you weren't here, so thanks a lot. My name's Lijah."

He extended a hand to Jason to shake, but Jason was too caught off guard by his own response to the situation as well as Lijah's genuine friendliness to return the gesture. Lijah lowered his hand, unfazed by the lack of reaction.

"Not a talker, huh? That's okay," he noted, then became visibly nervous, "Oh, cripes, I'm sorry, are you deaf?"

He made some strange hand movements with that last sentence, gesturing to Jason and to his own ear. Jason shook his head, slowly coming out of his confusion.

"Ah, gotcha," Lijah said, relaxing, "That works for me. I'm not very good at signing."

He laughed at this, and Jason felt a pang of....something. Lijah's laugh was light and pleasant sounding...it reminded Jason of dappled sunlight through trees. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to stay near Lijah for a while longer.

"In all seriousness, what is your name?" Lijah asked, "I'd like to know who my hero is."

Hero. That wasn't a word Jason thought would ever be associated with him, but it felt surprisingly good to hear Lijah call him that. He looked around himself for a moment, then up the slope at the trail. He motioned for Lijah to follow him and made his way up to the flatter part of the forest floor. Lijah had some slight difficulty following him, being so much smaller and having mild injuries, but he made it up the slope all the same. Jason waited until Lijah had caught his breath and stood next to him. He held his machete out to the ground and drew the letters of his name into the dirt. Lijah read the name aloud once he had finished and looked up at Jason brightly.

"Jason!" he chirped with delight, "Like the Argonaut in Greek mythology!"

Jason tilted his head, frowning. His mother had told him many stories as he grew up, but they were all from the Bible. He wasn't familiar with the character Lijah was referencing, and Lijah could see his bewilderment.

"He's a hero in his story," he explained, "well, for the most part. He goes on adventures with his crew and they see and do all kinds of amazing things together."

Jason nodded, liking the sound of this hero with the same name as himself. And the fact that he was not entirely virtuous...that struck a chord with him. He gestured to Lijah, who seemed to understand that he was asking about his name.

"I was originally supposed to be Elijah," he said, emphasizing the 'e' at the beginning, "but my little sister had trouble saying the whole name, so I changed it to just Lijah. By itself, I don't think it means anything special, but it's pretty special to me."

Jason stared at Lijah. How was he so good-natured? Even with an intimidating stranger like Jason, he managed to keep his upbeat attitude and unselfish way of speaking. Was he stupid or genuinely that benevolent?

"Hey, walk with me back to camp," Lijah encouraged, setting off in that direction, "I owe you lunch."

Jason felt a small stab of panic and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and back at Lijah, who nodded.

"You've got somewhere to be - that's fine! Don't worry about it, big guy! But, if you find yourself back this way, come find me at counselor cabin 5 and I'll get you a meal to pay you back for helping me. Thanks again!"

He waved goodbye before turning and walking back towards the camp, the pep in his step dampened only slightly by the soreness in his legs. Jason watched him go and wondered wildly what had just happened. Had he somehow accidentally made a friend?

#argo fic #friday the 13th #jason voorhees #canon/oc #slashers #slasher fanfiction #friday the 13th fanfiction

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jjpogue · 5 years ago

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❝Something Different — t.t

Summary: in which you and topper bond over your romantic troubles and end up sleeping together.

Request: “Hey can you please do a Topper from Outer Banks imagine where y/n is a pouge and she is the bad ass of the group and she doesn’t really like to show her emotions she had a crush on jj but sees the way he looks at kiea so one night she is at the beach alone drinking and topper happens to be there too and they talk about their heartbreak they end up sleeping together and slowly start liking eachother” - anon

Pairing: Topper Thornton x reader

Length: 3.2k words!

Warnings: 18+ smut, public sex, angst & feels,

[ not my gif ]

The rays of the sun beat down on your skin, making every inch warm. You had a pretty defined tan line, showing off the shadows of your favorite bikini to surf in. When you weren’t with the pogues or working your job on the cut, you were out on the waves. It felt like home to you, more home than land ever felt like. The salt in the breeze made you feel alert. The sheer raw power of the waved flowed into you and made you feel like this was your world, and everyone else was just living in it.

Feeling the sand between your toes and the current pulling at your ankles rhythmically was grounding, it was exactly what you needed right now to feel calm. Handling emotions had never been your strong suit, that was true. And seeing the way JJ was looking at her — it was too much for your vulnerable heart to handle right now — you had to get away. It was foolish to be so affected by it, let it get to you and fill you with the insecurities you tried to push away. But it was that silent breaking point which you’d reached. And now you were looking out at the tangerine sunset with watery eyes.

The scene was picturesque and melancholy. You had stripped down to your bikini top and board shorts, wading into the water which reflected the glitters of the fading sun. Sinking down, the ocean reached up to your shoulders, enveloping you in its thick atmosphere. A gentle pressure that wrapped around your whole body like a hug.

Why did you like JJ so much to begin with? He was a fellow pogue and it was against the hallowed rules to mingle amongst other pogues. Yet it seemed that was a less strictly guided rule than others. All the boys had a thing for Kie, and a part of you resented her for it. A toxic jealousy that simmered in the pit of your chest. The feelings you only let come forth in your worst of times; the devil on your shoulder whispering the sins your mind wouldn’t normally conjure.

Sighing, you close your eyes and leaned back, letting your body go slack to float on the surface. The gentle tide carried you back and forth and lulled you back into a secure place as it always did when you needed it. But it was too much to ask for prolonged peace.

“Hey pogue!”

You snapped back to the present and stood up in the water, droplets dripping down you in rivers. And it was none other than Topper Thornton and his stupid frosted tips swaggering across the beach towards you. He wore a red polo top and tan shorts, a pair of sunglasses hanging precariously on the button of his nose to complete the “I’m a rich privileged kid” look. He was carrying a blue cooler in one hand and had a smirk plastered across his face. “All alone, princess?”

You sneered at him and narrowed your eyes, “What the hell do you want, kook?”

He set down the cooler in the sand and knelt down beside it, pulling out a brown beer bottle. He snapped his eyes up to meet your and his smirk only grew cockier, “Peace offering? I’m not here to start anything, I promise.”

You raised a brow, refusing to move closer. “This feels highly suspicious, you’re aware of that right? Swear you’re not here to pull something?”

“Cross my heart.” He cracked open the beer and tipped it up to his lips, a trail of golden amber liquid dripping down from the corner of his lips and off his chin. He wiped it away after his swig and gestured to you, “Coming out of there, princess?”

“Stop calling me that.” You crossed your arms, trudging through the water and back to the beach. You snatched one of his beers from the cooler and opened it off the piece of driftwood you used to hang your clothes on. You let the cool liquid flow down your throat and soothe the bile that had been creeping up. And in the moment it felt like a great solution to your troubles to finish the whole bottle in one go, tossing the bottle aside when you were finished.

Topper stared at you with widened eyes before composing himself, “You good?”

“None of your business, kook.” You bit back at him, turning to sit yourself on the driftwood with your arms once again crossed defensively. Why was Topper here and what was his ulterior motive? He obviously wanted to tease and taunt you; pull on your hair and kick sand at you. But you were feeling resentful of your fellow pogues and didn’t care about your loyalties, not right now.

Topper shrugged and nursed his beer, sitting a few feet away on the driftlog. You went back to watching the sky, turned into deep crimson brush strokes and speckles of white clouds. You almost forget Topper was there until he had to speak back up.

“Sarah broke up with me.”

You looked over at him and sniffed, “And? You’re an asshat. It’s about time she ought to see that.”

“Gee thanks, it’s not as if I’m not right here.”

“Well what do you honestly expect me to say? Am I supposed to like you after all the shit you and your goons have pulled on us? That just shows how entitled and sheltered you are.”

“No, I don’t. But I don’t know, you’re here and I just want to talk to someone about it. Rafe and Kelce just make fun of me and they’re suppose to be my friends, my mom doesn’t give a fuck and,” Topper sighed in exasperation and slumped his shoulders, his elbows rest upon his knees, “it feels nice to just have someone listen.”

You hated the fact you softened at his words and his vulnerable blue-gray eyes. You bit your lip and met his eyes, “Okay. I’ll listen.”

Topper hummed and relaxed his shoulders, you could see the gears working in his head, the way his gaze rove over the beach without purpose and how his lip was worked between his teeth.

“I love Sarah — or loved her? — and it feels like it’s all my fault she’s gone. I could only think of her and nothing but her. I was so hyper focused on every little thing I didn’t like, it made me so angry and I didn’t even realize how out of control it was getting before it was too late. And then to see her with John B? Cheating on me? It hurt so much and I let it get out of control. I didn’t mean for John B to fall, honestly.” Topper ran his hands through his hair and pulled on it, his fingers tangling in the tresses. “But it’s too late to apologize.”

“I... I don’t blame you for that. It was an unfortunate accident. And,” you sighed and you didn’t know exactly what compelled you. But it felt right and you moved to sit right beside Topper and carefully set your hand on his back. He stiffened but don’t protest. “I didn’t know she cheated on you. That’s a shitty thing to do to anyone.”

Topper didn't respond, and you took a moment to look him over. The last glow of the setting sun had his face illuminated in neon reds and oranges, his brow scrunched together and his jaw set tight. You took your hand and gently ran circles on his back, hoping it would bring Topper some comfort. But you had never really spoken to him before, much less act as emotional support and you had no idea what you were doing. This was wholly new territory and it was scary- you were going to do something wrong. You still didn’t exactly like Topper but you were disliking him less than before. He had humanity to him and you understood the gravity of Topper letting you see this side of him. So it only felt fair you joined him. He was right, there is comfort to be had in telling your woes to one who has no bearing to judge you on. Just an ear to listen and an open mind.

“For the longest time,” Topper lifted his head to your voice, his misty eyes looking to you curiously. You smiled weakly to him and then once again looked back out to the sea. The sky was getting darker every minute and the sea was turning black and mysterious. “I’ve had a crush on JJ. The kind of innocent crush that makes you feel all giddy and silly and as if you’re floating on cloud nine, wherever that is. And no, I never acted on it. So I know I have no right to feel the way I do. But I’m only human and I can’t exactly control it, right? So I feel jealous and upset he’s interested in someone else. And what am i going to do? Just bottle it up and move on. Because that’s what I’ve always done and I’m a creature of habit. So trust me, you’re not the only one with a broken heart. The way he looked at her? God, it was as if she were the only one there. And I can’t feel happy for them because all I can think about is my own hurt feelings. At least, look at me like a friend that you love, that’s what I want. He didn’t really cheat on me, he doesn’t even know. But it’s shit, all the same. Being a teenager sucks, and being in love sucks even more.”

You finally looked back at Topper, his pale eyes looking right into yours with such depth and reverence.

“What?” You breathed out, feeling small and vulnerable and confused.

And he kissed you, softly as first with a hand on your cheek and fingers in your hair but it quickly progressed into something deeper and more intimate than that. He bit on your lip and grasped for his hip, pulling you into his lap despite the wet state of your shorts, you were both too engrossed to care. All your senses were invaded and overloaded with him. It was wrong but you didn’t care. Connection, understanding, and emotional vulnerability driving you to give into him. He held you close and every trace of his skin on yours sent jolts of electricity and excitement though your body and you could feel the full, immense sensation of arousal settle in your hips. You hadn’t laid in bed with another in months and that yearning hadn’t come back until now.

Your lips broke apart and you gasped as Topper bit on your ear, licking and kissing along the side of your neck. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck and buried your face in his soft hair which smelled faintly of cologne and the sweet chemicals of his shampoo. “What are we doing?” You whispered to him. You were scared, excited and so terribly aroused all at the same time.

He squeezed the soft flesh of your hip and pressed one more kiss to the dip of your collarbone, “What feels right.” He replied simply, as if it was the most obvious thing. Maybe it was when you stopped letting all these mixed feelings battle inside you. Fully give yourself away to the present here and now and take comfort in the warm body you were wrapped in.

“Well we can’t stay out here. What if someone sees us like this?” You pulled back to look across his face, admiring the tiny bit of baby stubble on his chin and the smooth slope of his nose. The tiny sun-dotted freckles under his eyes and the faint rosiness of his cheeks.

“They see us then they’re getting a nice show.” Topper smirked, slapping your ass playfully. “It’s getting dark, they won’t see us anyways.”

“Hey! No tha-” Topper silenced you with a blisteringly hot kiss, and you were so caught by surprise you couldn’t control the whining moan that resonated in your throat. You could feel Topper’s hands trailing up along your spine till it reached the bow of your bikini, tugging at the strings till it came apart and fell slack. He went and undid the bow around your neck next and the small garment came off, you tossing it aside to the sand. You broke apart, gasping and panting headily. You watched Topper admire your chest, confidence bubbling up inside of you.

“It’s okay to touch them,” You guided him, speaking softly. He nodded slowly and his hands reached up to cup them, squishing the mounds in his strong fingers. You blushed and bit your lip when Topper grew emboldened, kissing each of your breasts and nipping at your nipples. You set a hand on his shoulder and closed your eyes, reveling in the new feeling.

“It”s good?” He looked up at you with soft eyes and you melted under that look. One of so much care and attention.

“Yeah..” you nodded dumbly, feeling drunk off the feeling, and maybe the beer you chugged earlier was helping. “I wanna suck your cock.” You were surprised with your bluntness and Topper seemed to be so as well before he quickly recovered, helping you down off his lap and spreading his legs apart.

You hummed, helping pull his shorts off, leaving him in his tightened briefs. The noticeable bulge was enticing enough you wrapped your lips around the mound, sucking and wetting the fabric with your tongue. Topper’s eyes fluttered and he gasped, “Fuck- don’t tease me like that.”

You giggled and relented, peeling his briefs back, his hard cock popping out and standing to attention. He was of fairly normal size with a slight curve to the shaft. You took hold of him and looked up to him with lusty eyes, putting your lips to the shaft and pressing sweet kisses to the velvety form. Topper let out a euphonious moan, biting his cheek to keep it quiet. You had barely started and he was already so affected, it made you wonder how many blowjobs he had had before, if any.

You licked a stripe up to the tip and Topper shuddered, his hands grasping the driftwood on either side of him to keep himself grounded, his eyes watching you. You twirled your tongue around the tip and purred at the taste of his precum, a little sweet and tangy. You finally took his cock into your mouth, leaning in to take it all the way in, the head pressing against the back of your throat. You closed your eyes and moaned, the vibrations adding to Topper’s pleasure, one hand reaching out to grasp some of your hair- tight and a little painful. But it was easily ignored by the second hand pleasure. Your enjoyment of bringing the kook to a trembling horny mess. You bobbed your head up and down, hallowing your cheeks and running you tongue against him each time you went down on him.

“C’mere,” Topper pulled you back and off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to the member before it broke. You licked up the sticky line from your lip and grinned, a lightness filling your chest as how easily he was able to lift you to his lap. His arm muscles flexing and contracting as he exercised his strength was so ridiculously hot in this situation. “Wanna cum in that pretty pussy.” He groaned out, his voice coated in a gravely deep timbre.

You gasped as he practically ripped your little shorts off you, fiddling with them as they were caught on your knees but he was quick to leave them and flip you around. Your back was arched against his firm chest, it was obvious he worked out.

You could feel his cock pressing up against your ass and you rubbed your thighs in anticipation. He was being grabby and panting heavily in your ear, feeling up your tits and thighs. “So sexy with my dick in your mouth huh? Wanna feel your pussy now..” He grasped his cock in one hand and pushed it to rub against your lower lips, squelching from all the wetness you’d accumulated.

“Please,” you whined, holding onto his thighs and shuddering. Your back arched more, chest pushing out as your whole body was high strung in tension. You could feel the head push against you, pushing back and forth till it caught on your entrance and you held your breath.

“Ready princess?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

He snapped his hips and you jolted forward, crying out a muffled sound. All you could hear was the gentle roll of the waves and the slap of skin on skin as Topper rut into you, finding his rhythm. You leaned back into him, rolling your hips back to meet him each time and it only enhanced the pleasure. You both matched pace and were met as one, bodies connected in that most intimate way. The rising moon illuminated your wet skin and it glistened a bluish-white hue.

Topper quickened his pace and held you tighter, “Fuck, (y/n).” It was the first time he had said your name that night and it made you fall over the edge, reaching down to play with yourself, rubbing tight little circles on your bud.

The combined pleasure was enough for you to feel the familiar tightness inside, a dull throbbing that soon was lit aflame when your deepest reaches and most sensitive spots were grazed, causing you to combust in Topper’s arms and cum on his cock. He smirked and kissed behind you ear, “That good, baby? I’m gonna cum soon too, such a good, tight, little pussy squeezing me..”

He held your hips firmly against his and stood, turning so you could hold onto the driftwood as he began pounding you from behind. You let your head hang, ass in the air. Topper slapped your cheeks, causing them to blush, red and raw. “Just like that, princess.”

You were only more aroused by his praises, more wetness dripping out past his cock as he brought his hips flush to yours one last time. He groaned and gripped your flesh tight, little crescent lines left by his nails. You could feel his cum spurt inside you, the white dribbling out of you and mixing with the sand below. Topper exhaled and pulled out as his cock started to soften. “Holy shit.”

You thighs shook a little as you stood back up straight, grinning at Topper over your shoulder, “You’re certainly better than I expected, Kook.”

He rolled his eyes and knelt to help you retrieve your clothes, offering them up to you. You smiled and mumbled a small thanks as you redressed, trapping his dripping cum in with your shorts. You were on the pill so you weren’t worried about it. Topper pulled you back to him, his boxers and shorts back in place.

“I don’t want to leave things here, is that wrong?” He asked quietly, rubbing your arms.

“I don’t think so.” You blushed, “I didn’t expect this to happen but I’m glad it did.”

He smiled down at you, “Same.”

“So... my place?” You offered, already thinking about a round two. Your whole body tingling in excitement. Topper only offered you a wide smirk but you knew that to mean a “yes”.

A/N: hoooly shit this was a ride to write out. I haven’t written smut in months and I hope I’m not too rusty at it. Anyways I hope my interpretation of Topper is good, I want to flesh him out more than he is in the show, thats what he deserves haha

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