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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

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just let go: chapter 5

the final chapter. 18+ smut. not proofread. no summary. just pure sexual vibes.

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Misa had begged. She’d whined, and moaned, and come, multiple times. Yet Jenni still felt fairly sure that the keeper had more to give, like perhaps there was still just a bit more for Misa to let go of. The striker was absolutely positive that she’d get it out of the keeper, whatever she had left to give. Jenni had an idea of what that would be, she just wasn’t entirely sure it was possible.

She got right to work anyway, using the keeper’s sensitivity to her advantage. Jenni had Misa on her back within seconds, pulling her away from you, and pushing Alexia in your direction. Post sex Alexia was very compliant with whatever Jenni wanted from her, and she rolled over to you easily, gathering you up in her arms and holding you close. You were both on your sides, with the other two women in perfect view. Almost as soon as Alexia got her hands on you, her voice was in your ear.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, amor? You put on such a good show for us. So perfect, so pretty. Just for us, hmm?”

“Just for you.” You replied shakily, snuggling back into her larger body as you did so. You both knew Alexia wasn’t trying to get you going again. She knew how hard you were on yourself, and she and Jenni made a point to tell you how very perfect you were for them every time you guys were together. Afterwards, when you’d lay, completely drained, in between them, they’d take turns making you forget every bad thing you’d ever thought about yourself, filling your head with kind words and quiet expressions of their-... affection.

You were happy there, in Alexia’s muscular arms. Safe and comfortable, and very entertained by the sight in front of you.

Jenni was on a mission, and it was clear to anyone watching. She had spread Misa wide, thrown both the keeper’s tan legs over her shoulders, and gotten to work. She was aware, however, that Misa would be sensitive, and if she was going to get what she wanted, she’d have to go slow.

Slow and sensual and teasing, dragging her tongue through Misa’s core. The younger girl was dripping, the area in between her legs an absolute mess. Jenni was leaving her fingers out of it for now, laying them across Misa’s abdomen, moving her thumbs in a soothing motion across the soft skin.

Misa looked like she was on another planet. Jenni’s motions against her were just enough to pull every thought from her head, leaving her wonderfully empty. All she was aware of was that Jenni felt so good, and she never wanted the older woman to stop.

You weren’t sure you’d ever gotten Misa to this point before. Completely speechless, quiet sighs and whines falling from her lips every few seconds. You thought Misa looked as good as she could possibly look when she fucked you, when she was dominant and controlling. Now, though, looking at her underneath Jenni, you knew you’d been wrong.

She looked astonishingly good like this. Beautiful in every sense of the word. Her face was flushed red, her hair a mess against the duvet, her neck covered in hickeys. She was relaxed, though, completely relaxed. She looked softer like this, kinder. She wasn’t Misa Rodriquez, moody goalkeeper.

She was Misa, and you wondered how you ever forgot how beautiful she was. How perfect.

You shivered slightly at the sight, trying to swallow the ridiculous emotions that were swirling around inside of you. Alexia misunderstood, adorably pulling your body closer against her.

“Are you cold?” She whispered, though her eyes remained trained on her girlfriend’s head between Misa’s legs.

Instead of explaining what was going through your head, you nodded slightly. You were a bit cold, if you thought about it. Alexia leaned away from you, and you’d never admit to the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact. You heard the bottom drawer of the nightstand open and then closed, before Alexia was pressed up against your back again, and you were being snuggly wrapped in a fuzzy blanket.

“Better?” She asked, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

You fought back a smile. “Sí. But be careful how close you get the blanket to Misa. It seems like Jenni is really going for something here.”

Alexia chuckled into your neck, her breath tickling your skin until you shivered again. “Oh, she definitely is.”

Misa wasn’t quite aware of what Jenni’s goal was, though. The forward had been focused on Misa’s clit for a while, barely applying any pressure with her tongue, instead softly licking over it, leaving light kisses across Misa’s skin. She hummed as she did so, enjoying herself, and Misa had long settled into Jenni’s movements, getting her body to relax into the gentle stimulation. It was only when Jenni shifted, untucking one of her arms from where it was looped under Misa’s leg, to very teasingly press at her entrance, that she began to understand what Jenni was intending.

“Fuck,” Misa groaned, the escalation being overwhelming, but not unwelcome. Jenni groaned as she felt the keeper get somehow wetter, her singular finger threatening to slip inside before she wanted it to.

When Jenni did slip a finger inside, it was to the excitement of the keeper. For only a moment, though because Jenni didn’t fuck her with it. She kept it deep inside of Misa’s pussy, shifting it around every so often. Searching for something.

“Jenni, I can’t,” Misa mumbled, now well aware what the forward was going for, though she kept her fingers threaded through Jenni’s jet black hair.

“Yes you can,” Jenni told her, though Misa felt the words more than she heard them. “Relax, let it happen.”

Misa squirmed slightly under her, and you realized very quickly that the woman was getting too into her own head. The only way this was happening was if she relaxed, and the only way she’d relax was if she was distracted. So, you took one for the team.

It was a big sacrifice, uncovering yourself from the soft blanket, and pulling away from the furnace that was Alexia. She grumbled as you did so, but released you from her arms with no argument. You slid across the bed, propping yourself up on your elbow, your face just next to Misa’s. Her eyes were shut, and though there was no doubt she’d felt you come closer, she kept them shut. When she felt your nimble fingers on her cheek, though, directing her to tilt her head towards you, she forced her eyes open, finding you much closer than she’d expected.

You were looking at her so softly, she almost wasn’t sure she could handle the weight of your gaze. It was too kind, too loving. When you leaned in, though, pressing your lips to hers in the softest kiss either of you had ever shared, she forgot she was supposed to be tough for you.

Every muscle in her body relaxed, and Jenni smiled triumphantly against her, slipping in another finger to join the first. Misa didn’t even seem to notice. Her hands had relaxed their tight grip on Jenni’s hair; she was limp on the bed, eagerly kissing you back.

Your lips were comforting against hers, soft and gentle, with just a touch of insistence when you let your tongue slide from between them, and press up against her lips. She allowed you in easily, your tongue nudging against hers. Her calloused hand moved to cup your cheek, drawing you in closer. She was lost in the feeling of you, and the feeling of Jenni.

The forward knew what she was doing. She had two fingers buried deep inside of the keeper, though she didn’t move them in and out. Instead, she curled them just slightly, going for more of a rocking motion. As soon as she did so, hitting the spot Misa rarely ever stimulated, Jenni was rewarded with a deep groan. She felt Misa clench around her, felt the keeper grow wetter and wetter, and she knew she’d be successful.

She doubled down on Misa’s clit, attaching her lips to the nub and flicking her tongue over it, fast enough for Misa’s thighs to tremble against her head. Misa was getting louder now, barely able to keep up with your kisses, so you pulled your lips away, stroking at her cheek with your thumb.

She opened her eyes to look at you, and they were so clouded with desire, you fought the urge to kiss her again, harder. Her hips had begun a circular motion against Jenni, and you knew she was getting close.

“Feels different,” she murmured, gently pressing her forehead to yours.

“I know,” you replied. “Let it happen, baby. Let her make you feel good.”

Misa nodded, letting her head fall back onto the mattress. She kept her hand on you, threading her fingers through your hair this time, and focused all of her will on keeping her lower body relaxed.

You brought your lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at the already sensitive marks there. Misa tightened her grip in your hair.

“Jenni,” she cried, louder than she’d been talking before.

Jenni hummed, not pausing her motions, but her eyes fixed attentively on the keeper.

“Close,” Misa warned, reaching down blindly to lace her fingers with Jenni’s free hand.

Jenni hummed again, speeding up the curling push and pull of her fingers.

Misa felt it before it happened, coming from somewhere directly in her.

“Jenni, Jenni, Jenni,” she chanted, the only thought in her head being the forward bringing her more pleasure than she’d ever felt in her life.

Jenni pulled her face away, wanting to see it happen. Liquid was streaming out of Misa’s cunt, a waterfall almost. With every thrust of her fingers, more flooded out, until Misa’s back was arching off the bed, and she grew louder than she’d been all night. Her words were unintelligible moans, and all Jenni wanted to do, in that moment, was to keep pulling those sounds from the stoic woman.

Eventually, though, it grew to be too much. Too much of Jenni’s fingers inside of her, pulling splash after slash out of her pussy, too much of your lips on her sensitive neck.

Misa squirmed away from both of you. “No more, no more,” she cried, feeling both of you pull away instantly. That wouldn’t do, though. The stimulation was too much, but the minute she felt you stop touching her, she felt entirely uncomfortable and untethered to the earth.

“Amor, venga,” she whined, and that was all it took before you were burying your face back into her neck, leaving the marks alone this time, pressing yourself up against her. Her legs trembled as you intertwined yours with them, small whimpers leaving her mouth even now, even as Jenni withdrew from between her legs, practically falling over herself to get back to her rather neglected girlfriend.

“Nice of you to remember me.” Alexia stated, laughing to herself at the sheepish grins coming from her girlfriend. She wasn’t mad, not really. It had been quite the show. Jenni pulled the midfielder into her arms, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of her head.

“Sorry, mi amor. I got distracted.”

“Her pussy is distracting.” Alexia commented. “I’d like to be distracted more often.”

“Me too,” Jenni agreed. “Do you think they will want to?”

She nodded at you both, where you were cradling Misa’s face in your hands, shushing her quiet whimpers. You were as close to Misa as you could possibly get, and the keeper was trying to claw you even closer. Jenni thought to herself that she’d be surprised if either of you ever let the other go.

“Oh they’ll want to.” Alexia replied. “If they don’t get together themselves, we’ll fuck them until they admit their feelings.”

Jenni laughed, always one to admire Alexia’s determination. Of course the blonde’s idea would be to fuck a confession out of the two of you.

As Jenni gazed at the two of you, though, curled against each other, she couldn’t help but agree. You fit together, like she fit with Alexia. You both looked so comfortable and so relaxed, so happy.

You and Misa were having similar thoughts, though Misa’s were much more clouded. She never wanted to let go of you, and you didn’t want to let go of her either. It was intense and surprising, the strength of both of your feelings, but there was no questioning them.

You settled against Misa’s chest, hearing her strong heartbeat in your ear, and you knew that of all the stress the day had brought, there was always going to be one thing you didn’t want to let go of. Her.

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sappy chapter, sappy ending. shorter than i would have wanted but i could not let this hang over me anymore, and i felt like this was an okay way to wrap it up.

i hope everyone enjoyed 🙂🙂

#alexia putellas x jenni hermoso x misa rodríguez x reader #misa rodriguez x reader #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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ssplague · 5 months

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Chapter 3

Masterlist

Warnings ⛔️ A/B/O themes, soulmates, mating, sex, manipulation, power and control.

Honorable mentions 💌 @lalachanya @mrsmelaninhood

@whatdidshesayyy @faemagic88

@viridianhero @alishii @rv19

@maggiecc @crazy-eight17 @nnubee

“All for you, All because of you”

The sight of you standing in the shadows of the hallway, made Bakugou feel as if the breath had been sucked from his lungs. You look from the angry blonde, to the way he holds your green haired savior. A brief flash of anger reflects in your eyes, while your facial features display abject terror. Seeing your display of negative emotions focused solely upon him, had something in the shifter’s chest aching painfully. “Unhand him! Put him down right now!” You demanded shakily, tears begin to well up in your eyes, quick to overflow and dribble down your cheeks. “He was just trying to help by getting me out of the storm! Please don’t Kill him! PLEASE!” You wailed, feeling absolutely helpless.

The original shock that your sudden appearance had brought on was quick to fade. Each of the men regained their composure, each one’s expression was drastically different from the other’s.

Deku being dropped to the floor has you shrinking back against the wall. Done in attempts to make yourself smaller, hopefully small enough to go unnoticed. Only to realize how stupid that thought was, while the one you now knew as a blood thirsty beast approaches. Flames danced within the crimson stare, its intensity was solely focused on you. A chaotic swell of feelings had resulted from the earlier encounter with Shindo. Even after channeling said feelings Into a rage fueled destruction, the continued heart ache had been too great for his mortal self to endure. So Bakugou had let his draconic side bear the brunt of that emotional onslaught, to which the beast didn’t seem to mind. Now however…with you mere inches away, cowering at his feet, the beastly side of him was fighting like mad to remain in control.

We found her!

Let’s take her, mark her, make her understand there is no escape!

Somehow you had managed to hold his gaze since it landed on you. Despite the fact that your body is shaking like a leaf caught in the wind. For a split second the actual scene infront of him is altered; Rather than being in Deku’s shitty second home the two of you were in the dragon king’s most cherished place, with his fangs piercing your neck as he mounted you from behind. Quick as the vision had come, it just as rapidly dissipated.

Obviously this image was forced to the forefront of his mind on purpose. Pathetic, as if he needed any more incentive to take what was already his.

Her eyes are even more beautiful when she cries…Just look at her, poor thing is wound up as tight as a bow string…

Reminds me of a timid little doe in the forest, ready to run at the first sign of danger…

As Bakugou slowly brings a large hand up towards your face, you flinch instinctively.

“Y/N…I would never harm you…how could your opinion of me have shifted so drastically just from hearing some ridiculous stories?” His voice is soft as he speaks to you, the calloused pad of his thumb drying your tears.

“Are they really just stories? You looked perfectly capable of killing Midoryia right now, maybe you would have even enjoyed doing so…” you gesture toward Izuku as you finally look away from Bakugou. Your heart ached with some strange unspoken need to be close to this man, you couldn’t get him out of your head, “Can we talk somewhere privately?”.

“The bedroom in the very back of the house would be a good spot” your host offers, giving you an encouraging smile, despite rubbing his sore neck.

You turn and walk back down the dark hallway, not looking to see if the Dragon king was following you. Opening the door to a tidy old bedroom containing a bed with a purple patchwork quilt spread out over it, and an old wooden dresser.

Taking a seat on the bed you look down at the floor boards, not even bothering to look up when the bedroom door shuts and the lock clicks. The bed dips slightly as Katsuki comes to sit beside you.

A few minutes of silence pass before you let out the breath you’d kept in, “Im sure you’re expecting me to return to the capital with you tomorrow…and the only way I will agree to come willingly is if there are no more lies…I…well I need to be able to trust my king “

My king

The touch of a warm, rough, palm incased your cheek. The feeling of it enough to get you to look up at its owner. Instantly returning the sentimental gesture by intertwining your fingers with his other hand. “I know what they must have told you about me, I’m sorry you were frightened enough to flee…Its true I have killed countless men and beasts alike…but it was all for the sake of my people! To keep them safe, to earn even more respect than the almighty king of the south had during his reign…Our lands have expanded, we have gained even more allies than ever before, its all been for the greater good my love…all for us to rule over together, we’ll make our kingdom the most prosperous of all of the lands surrounding us” Bakugou spoke so passionately as desire sparked in his crimson irises, his words made you feel inspired and excited in ways you never had felt before.

“I need you with me y/n, I need you by my side as my queen! No one on this entire planet could ever make me feel the way you do…my goddess, let me worship you like you deserve” He spoke so passionately to you, keeping eye contact to demonstrate his honesty. A gentle push had you laying back on the plush mattress, lashes fluttering over you’re half opened eyes as you moved further up the bed to make room for him as well. Rather than laying next to you, the imposing man loomed over the top of you. “Katsuki?” his name left your lips in a breathy sort of simper, causing a low rumble to sound in his chest. His reply is just as gruff sounding as he rasped “Love hearing you say my name…wanna hear you say it every day for the rest of my life”.

“I don’t understand why im so drawn to you, I should be afraid, I should want to run away and put distance between us…but im just so relieved to have you with me once more…MY king” it seemed as if you had accidentally envoked a possessive, borderline seductive lilit With the way you had spoke. Surely that explains the sudden surge of confidence expelling any trace of the shaken, timid person you’d been mere minutes ago. Your sudden change didn’t go unnoticed by Bakugou as he studied you carefully, another pleased rumble rolling through his chest as your fingers carded themselves through messy blonde locks. Closing his eyes allowed him to feel his way through your aura; A pleased hum the possessive emphasis placed on your words Vibrates your throat as your spirit attempted to entangle itself with his own.

Not yet.

The sound of your disappointed whine had his crimson irises re-open to lock with your own. The delectable fragrance you emitted seemed to have strengthened and it takes all of the young king’s will power not to let the drool pooling inside his mouth leak out onto the pillows bellow. Your honeyed scent coated his tongue and clung to the passages inside of his nose. No longer laying dormant, your omega spirit had finally exposed itself to him. Now wide awake, it seemed she wasn’t interested in waiting for any sort of proper ceremonial rigamarole to be claimed by her chosen mate.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” Your innocent sounding voice and wide doe eyes aren’t fooling Bakugou in the slightest.

Still doesn’t stop from making you look so adorably fuckable though…

Moving from over the top of you, the extremely turned on dragon shifter lays down behind you.

Turning on his side, slinging a heavy arm around your body and pulling you closer to him.

“Katsuki?” You ask, confused at his sudden change of heart.

“Sleep, we have a long day to get through tomorrow” he grumbled, kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder. The statement had an air of finality to it, and you couldn’t help but be disappointed.

So much for “worshipping his goddess”….

The following morning the Dragon king wakes up to the sound of birds chirping. Feeling his arm still resting on your plush body, he lets out a pleased rumble, trying to pull you closer. Only to realize it wasn’t you beneath his arm, it was your pillow.

“Y/n!” His voice cracked as he hurriedly sat up, frantic eyes scanning the room for you.

“Dammit!”

Instantly on his feet, a frightened but rapidly growing furious Bakugou berated himself for his foolishness.

You let your guard down and look what happened! She could be miles away by now!

Wrenching the bedroom door open and hurrying down the hallway, the wide open front door has panic gripping his very soul as he imagines losing you again.

“Oh uhm good morning Kaachan”

A sheepish Deku greets his childhood friend warily, in his hands are a tray and three empty cups.

Noticing the look on the blonde man’s face, a smile appears on Deku’s, “Y/N is outside with Kirishima, they seem to have taken a liking to one another! I made sure to save you a couple of the pasteries we had for breakfast, I’ll get them for you”. Ducking his head down to awkwardly lean against the door frame, Katsuki watches your interaction with his idiot friend.

A small pile of wild flowers sit between the two of you, your lips are moving while explaining what your fingers are doing as they carefully braid vines and flowers together. The giant red head is watching intently until you finish the flower crown and place it atop his shitty hair. “I LOVE IT! I’ll cherish it forever!” The fool exclaims happily, sharp teeth on full display as he grins at you. The laughter that follows from you two brings a small smile to the King’s face, shaking his head at the idiot that is Ejiro.

“I poured you some tea to go with your breakfast Kaachan” Izuku calls as he comes down the hallway, appearing with Katsuki’s cloak folded over his arm, “it’s in the kitchen, and here is your cape, it’s all dried now”. Taking the offered cape, Katsuki drapes it over his broad shoulders and enters the kitchen. Grabbing his food to stand at the window where he can continue observing you and Kirishima. It doesn’t take him long to eat the two pastries and drain the cup of tea, and rather than leave the dirtied dishes for the nerd, he washes them.

Glancing out the window once more, Katsuki watches Kirishima attempting to make a flower crown with his clumsy hands and clawed fingers. Seeing the polite smile on your face as you helped shitty scales with patience and undoubtedly kind words…well it did something to Bakugou. The very first time he’d remembered ever experiencing such comfortable warmth extending from the depths of his heart, a feeling of peace that extinguished his always present fury, a softness that cushioned his sharp tongue, was the day he met you….

When word had reached Bakugou that one of the elder dragons was wreaking havoc in the eastern mountain range, he’d immediately felt the need to prove himself once again. It wasn’t just an elderly rogue creature, it was one of the ancient dragons that inhabited these lands long before any human stepped foot upon them. The magnificent beasts are few and far between these days. Some had been slain, others chose to befriend and coexist with humans, the most dangerous had been forcibly sealed away. The latter of which was only carried out when the beast was so formidable that the combined efforts of dragon and human together could not kill It.

Great protest had followed the young royal’s announcement of planning to take on this monster by himself. The naysayers were silenced by the threat of exile or execution should any of them attempt to follow him. The battle between Bakugou and the ancient dragon waged on for three full days, neither of them willing to give up. Once it was all said and done, the Dragon King’s ferocious tenacity won out. With the beast dead at his Royal feet, he shifted back into his human form and set about pulling out teeth, claws, as well as a large gem embedded in the slain beast’s forehead. All of the things the man collected were to serve as more than just trophies in demonstration of his victory. Only when he was finished and the giant satchel was secured around him, did he switch back into his dragon form and take off toward home. It was about halfway through the journey that Katsuki’s vision started to blur, not long after came pain in his limbs. The Adrenaline rush had officially worn off, along with the dopamine high victory had brought about. Seeing what looked like an island below, the black dragon slowly loses altitude, and before it can hit the water, a human body appears in its place. Exhausted as he was, Bakugou kept a tight grip on his satchel as he fought the tide to get to shore, where he immediately collapsed.

Waking up was a surprisingly comfortable experience, whatever the Royal lay upon was soft, the air around him was a comfortable temperature and the smell invading his senses was possibly the best scent in the world. Only the feather light touch of small fingers on his skin made his eyes fly open, a frightening growl comes from deep in his chest. Taking hold of a tiny wrist in his large fist, “What the fuck do you-“ the words died on his lips as he caught sight of you. Pupils expanding due to fear, inside rings of wide e/c eyes stared back at him, before looking down at the wrist he still had clutched inside his hand, “ I didn’t mean to startle you…Im sorry”. The sound of your voice was like music to his ears, a unique tone that was made for him to hear and no one else, he had to of died during his flight home because no shitty mortal could be making him feel this way…”Im y/n by the way…I uh, I came across you passed out on the shore at the beach, and once I got a better look at your injuries...I couldn’t just leave you there” you spoke to him so softly, touched him so gently. The strange sensation wouldn’t go away; This tingling warmth in his chest, the serene calm you brought Bakugou only amplified the longer he spent with you, the closer you got to him.

It made the normally rage fueled monarch relax, it made him want to be a better man and a better leader.

All for you.

All because of you.

The memory made it easier to force himself to turn away from the window and stalk down the short hallway. Pushing open the already slightly ajar door to see the green haired male scribbling down some notes, muttering to himself as he picked up a jar and inspected the contents. Taking a few steps inside Bakugou clears his throat to gain the other man’s attention, “Oh Kaachan! Im sorry I didn’t hear you come in!” Deku exclaims, emerald eyes shifting nervously “Is something…wrong?”. “No…I just need to talk to you…” it comes out rougher than he’d intended but somehow Katsuki is able to get the words out “I wanted to thank…you…for uh…for helping Y/N…and Im s…sorry about last night I…I was worked up and I snapped on you when I shouldn’t have…”. The two men stood and stared at each other for a minute before Izuku breaks the silence “You don’t have to thank me, I was just doing the right thing….And Kirishima filled me in on what happened before you guys ended up here yesterday…It makes sense that you would be on edge after all that….Im sorry I didn’t just tell you she was here right away, I was uh kinda terrified you would think things were different than they appeared to be…”.

“So…we are good then?” The Dragon king replies, narrowed eyes glaring at Deku.

“Yep we’re good” the green haired man says with a nod, smiling as he turns back towards his notes.

Bakugou turns to leave the room, only to pause in the doorway.

Keeping his back towards Midoryia to hide the grimace on his face as he says “If you want a ride back to the capital you can come with us, hurry up and pack your shit cause we’re leaving ASAP” no sooner are the words out of his mouth that his stomping feet can be heard down the hallway, huffing when he hears the nerd happily accepting his invitation. Its gotta be you and your infectious kindness thats getting to him, and that should be a lot more unsettling than it was to him in this moment.

You and Kirishima were far too busy laughing at something Bakugou hadnt heard to notice when he emerged from the cabin. A large shadow falls over the grass infront of you as your laughter dies down into snickers. Which then cease immediately as soon as you notice who stands behind you.

“Oh! Good morning your highness!” Ejiro exclaims as he enthusiastically gets to his feet and smiles at the grimacing monarch. The red head extends his hand to help you up, only to have it knocked out of the way and replaced with the king’s. Taking your much smaller hand in his, Katsuki uses a little too much strength to pull you up and ends up with you falling face first against his hard chest. “G-Good morning my…King” you mumble against his skin as you peer up at him from in between his pecs.

“Missed you in bed this morning my goddess” the king replied, wrapping his arms around your body to keep you held to him. He couldn’t help but smirk at your flustered expression, where was the boldness you demonstrated to him the night prior? “Im not a goddess…yet” you corrected with a sigh “About last night, I….I apologize for behaving in such a provocative manner, it was innapropraite of me to proposition you like that….I dunno what came over me”.

“You’ve always repressed that side of yourself, it only makes sense that being in the company of your fated Alpha would get your omega all hot and bothered” Katsuki massages your hips as he takes a deep inhale of your scent “You handled it pretty well, Although, I wouldn’t have minded if you let the lust get to you, woulda been a good time for both of us…”.

“Is it inappropriate to admit that I missed sleeping beside you?” You nervously ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other “I haven’t slept that good since the night before you left the island..”.

“No…its fine” he replied, taking notice of the way your eyes briefly fall to his lips “I feel the same”.

Your lashes flutter as you bring your gaze back to his, tilting your chin up slightly, craning your neck upwards to move your face closer. It was like the two of you were the only ones in the world for that brief moment your lips pressed gently to his. When you begin to pull back he stops you by giving you his own chaste kiss, resting his forehead against your’s.

“Will it always feel like this?” You whisper, gently grabbing hold of his cape to ground your out of control emotions. “Most likely” Bakugou pauses to give you that stupid smirk “You’ll get used to it…eventually”.

“Alright I’m ready to go! Sorry for making you all wait!” Calls Midoryia as he locks the cabin up, hurrying out to the field where Bakugou, Kirishima, and you are standing.

Rolling his eyes the king turns towards his companion, “Shitty Scales”. “Right! Give me just a second” Kirishima runs a few feet away, giving himself enough room to shift without worrying he’d hurt you or Izuku.

“Aren’t you going to fly us back?” You give Katsuki a questioning look, eyeing the blonde man wairly lest he shift and catch you by surprise.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t fall off mid flight and die” Katsuki says with a roll of his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to retort ,magic electrified the air surrounding you. A red flash and an accompanying roar announce the magnificent crimson dragon that now stands where Kirishima had been moments ago.

The beast lowered its head before the three of you, and Katsuki wasted no time helping you climb up its snout. Izuku follows the two of you to the middle of the dragon’s back before pulling a paint brush and jar from his rucksack. “What will you do with that?” You ask, watching the green haired man dip the brush into the jar. “Earlier Kirishima told me he wouldn’t mind if I painted some protective ruins on him to make sure we couldn’t slip or get blown off his back during our flight” Midoryia explains as he perfected the enchantment “It’s just some mashed berries that make up the pigment, something easy to clean off once he shifts back”. Once the brush and jar are placed into his bag, Izuku shuts his eyes and mumbles something unintelligible.

The runes glow bright green before fading to black, your eyes are wide with excitement and you can’t help but to be impressed by that.

“Incredible Izuku! Maybe one day you could teach me magic like that?!” You ask, tracing the symbols that line Kirishima’s scaled back.

Deku didn’t even have to look at the king to know his red eyes were giving him a death glare.

“Oh it’s not that impressive, Kaachan’s magic is much stronger and flashier than anything I could do” the smaller man stutters as he waves his hands back and forth in surrender. Before you can praise Deku’s abilities any further, hands grip your hips, you don’t fight them pulling you backwards into Katsuki’s lap. You lean back against his chest as the King wraps his cape around both of you, probably to keep you warm during the flight. “Alright shitty scales let’s go!” Bakugou hollers, the dragon immediately spreads its wings and launches itself skyward. It’s terrifying at first, but once he’s gained enough altitude Kirishima glides along smoothly. Unable to contain the excitement anymore you begin to giggle, Midoryia sighs with relief and cracks a smile as well. “This is amazing!” You shout over the loud wind surrounding you, glancing over your shoulder to smile at Katsuki. The dragon side of him is proud to see you smiling instead of crying and fearful. “I bet you are much more fun to ride my King, I can’t wait until you take me!” Your compliment is completely innocent, still he can’t help but agree as he definitely anticipated both those things himself. Both In an innocent and not so innocent manner.

Izuku sneaks glances at you two throughout the flight, seeing his childhood friend so happy is a pleasant change to the usual moody Kaachan. Its obvious that Katsuki’s affection for you is genuine and deep; In just the short time you two have known each other its obvious that you have began to change him. The crescent moon on your forehead catches the sunlight just right and a thought hits the observer. Quickly pulling a notebook from his bag the green haired man searches through his notes. Finding the page he was looking for, emerald eyes scan back and forth over the neatly written text.

In this realm,

a blessing descends,

a child of fate,

Whose power immense,

destined to determine

earth’s fate

Born beneath the moon's shadow,

a tale quite bizarre,

A beast hides within,

a spirit touched by mar.

Not at the outset,

but time's relentless flow,

Unveils a name in history's

annals to grow.

Victories numerous,

A heart encased in sin,

With a chance encounter,

love's dance shall begin.

Strings of fate weave

a love, pure and oh so divine,

The dragon king seeking

a mate with whom

Soul shall intertwine.

This love is true,

by impurity shunned,

Great Darkness out shone

by a Celestial radiance

Who’s light could

Outshine the sun

Blessings abound

Once the moon's grace prevails,

A bright happy future

Similar to a child’s fairytale

The prophecy that the oracle spoke twenty two years ago…

These words were something he’d heard since he was a small child. Everyone in the kingdom knew the words to this prophetic message, even going so far as to turn it into a song. For some reason it has always confused Midoryia.

It always seemed like something was missing from it, why does it end so abruptly? Placing the book back into his bag Midoryia chances another glance your way; Bakugou has his head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed and expression relaxed as you speak softly in his ear. Maybe Izuku was getting ahead of himself, maybe there was nothing to be worried about, maybe your love would really be enough to smooth over the dragon shifter’s horrifying and violent tendencies.

Flying over the capital is an experience in itself;The city was vast, stretching out across the land as far as your eyes could see! All those people below looked like ants as they marched through the clean cobblestone streets.

Kirishima lands in the middle of the castle courtyard, lowering his belly to the ground and curling his tail around to serve as a make shift slide. You watch Izuku, then Katsuki slide down before you followed suit, laughter flows from you as you slide across the smooth crimson scales, the latter catches you with ease once you reach the end. Midoryia bids you goodbye and before he can turn to leave you reach out to grab ahold of his sleeve, “You’ll come to visit me right? This won’t be the last time I see you, will it?” You ask nervously, hating to have to part with one of the first friends you’d made here. “You aren’t going anywhere yet nerd, I have something I need your help with so come on” snaps the king, dragging you until you fall instep with him. Approaching the castle, you notice it was tall enough for a dragon to inhabit, and more than wide enough. The dark stone making up the outside held a stark contrast to the granite and marble inside, the floors were polished and clean. The windows each had dark crimson curtains pulled to the side, allowing the natural light to illuminate the gorgeous paintings littering the walls. Kirishima jogs up the slope leading to the back entrance, appearing behind you just as the large back doors are opened. Two servants hold each door and bow their heads welcoming the four of you, you try to catch their eye but it was like they were ordered not to look at you. The further Katsuki led you into the castle the more you noticed that this lack of eye contact was a trend amongst the servants. At least when it came to you it was, they didn’t hesitate to return greetings from Izuku or Ejiro, offering kind smiles and waves along with each exchange.

Just as you were about to question the brooding blonde a loud voice resounds through the palace halls:

“Finally you got back! Was about to send out a fuckin’ search party….speaking of parties, the celebration was called off last night because of the weather so you got lucky Brat, but it will be going on tonight! Move aside so I can get a proper look at my daughter to be”. A female version of Katsuki shoved him to the side, identical crimson eyes growing wide as they observe you, taking your hands in her’s she introduces herself “Im Mitsuki, the last queen and mother of the soon to be king”. “Its lovely to meet you, your highness! I am Y/N…” you trail off, wondering if you should add anything else but Mitsuki beats you to the punch “Daughter of the Moon Goddess Selene”.

“Ah uhh yes” you reply nervously, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

The older woman eyes the crescent moon on your forehead, “Absolutely radiant, I am honored that you chose my son, he is definitely undeserving of someone that projects such outward and internal beauty”.

“Your grace please” you blush at being talked up, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Now that we’ve gotten through introductions, I’ll be turning you over to these lovely ladies to help get you ready for the evenings festivities” your soon to be mother in law gestures to two woman standing off to the side, both looking directly at you wearing warm smiles on their faces “These two are Mina and Momo, no need to worry dear you will be in good hands, now get a move on, I still need to talk to my ignorant son privatley !”.

Katsuki wanted to protest as he watched the two women each grab one of your hands and lead you down the hall.

“She is the real deal, I could sense the ethereal magic as soon as she stepped foot in the castle” Mitsuki notes, before continuing “Katsuki you need to cherish her, that isn’t just any normal earth dwelling woman…if you hurt her or inflict any sort of suffering-“. “Enough old hag! I had to deal with enough bullshit the last two days, and now I have to deal with this stupid celebration tonight-“ Katsuki is cut off by his mother talking over him. “You were the one that insisted the party should take place before the actual wedding ceremony, since you wanted to be able to whisk your mate away as soon as vows are exchanged” Mitsuki rolls her eyes “You’re lucky that I personally saw to a majority of the details to both ceremony and celebration, you should be thanking me profusely”.

“I have something I need to take care of, whatever you need me to do will have to wait until im done, c’mon nerd lets go, Kirishima you stand guard over Y/N, don’t let her go anywhere unattended” the king demands as he heads back towards the door he’d originally entered from, not waiting for the red head to reply. Izuku bowed to Mitsuki before hurrying after the retreating monarch.

As soon as Momo and Mina had you behind closed doors they bombarded you with questions:

“How did you and the king meet?”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“How did he propose?”

“How big was his-“ you quickly put an end to that line of questioning.

“I found him injured as I was walking down the beach of an island in his territory, it took some time for us to warm up to each other….Uh he didn’t exactly give me a choice, it was just a mutual agreement, and as for THAT…I wouldn’t know since we haven’t…y’know” you answered their questions lamely, it was embarrassing. If they thought anything negative the women didn’t share it, they just made idle chit chat as they combed out your hair. Taking a deep breath you shut your eyes, a bead of sweat slid from your temple to down your cheek, falling between the valley of your breasts. Had it always been so stifling hot in here? Pleasant scents of sweet almond, and vanilla reached your nose before suddenly being over powered by a lavender fragrance. Glancing around the room you don’t seem to find anything that would have put off the scents, the room was bright with afternoon sunlight illuminating the white canopy of the large four poster bed in its center. A small oak writing desk sat in one corner, and a clothing rack sat in the corner opposite of it, between the two directly across from the door used to gain entry to the room was another slightly ajar door, most likely a bathroom. Bringing a hand up you begin to fan your face, now beads of sweat lined the entirety of your forehead, you dab them away with your other hand before they slip into your eyes. Thats when you felt the sleeves of your dress being pulled down as the back of it had been unfastened, feeling your chest slightly exposed caused you to squeak in concern.

“Sorry my lady, we’re done brushing your hair out and now its time for your bath” Momo explains apologetically.

“Oh okay…I can undress myself” you begin to head towards the open door only to realize that the two of them were following you, turning back around Mina speaks up “Its our job to get you ready for tonights celebration and your wedding tomorrow, so its our job to scrub you down, remove any unsightly hairs, wash, condition, style your hair, and then moisturize you from head to toe, I know its not ideal for two strangers to see your naughty bits but we’ll all be the best of friends afterwards!”. “Mina!” Exclaims Momo as she clutched her chest “Im so sorry my lady, please forgive her indiscretions, she means well!”.

The two of them begin to bicker on what is and isn’t appropriate to say to their future queen, your eyes bounce from one to the other as they speak. The pinkette is outgoing and high energy, while the ponytail is more somber and sophisticated. Mina begins making a game out of saying cruder and cruder things until her partner looks like she might just feint from the naughty language. Your laughter echoes around the bathroom as you strip out of your dress and undergarments, soon dying down into giggles as you enter the large bath, submerging your entire body.

“A thousand apologies my lady-“

“None needed, and call me y/n…I don’t consider myself above either of you…I want to make more friends” you admit this albeit nervously. A huge grin lights up Mina’s face, and MoMo ops for a more polite smile.

“You still haven’t mentioned where we are going Kaachan” Izuku nervously pointed out as he followed Bakugou. One of the kingdoms other shifters had given them a ride to the base of a nearby mountain. Now the two of them had been walking for over an hour, ocassionally having to climb up steep rocky ledges. “I told you already, you’ll find out once we get there! We’re over halfway there, woulda been there already if it weren’t for your sorry ass slowing me down” Katsuki sneers back at his companion. He was already

irritated that Deku of all people accompanied him, and now the worm would know of his greatest kept secret. It couldn’t be helped, the nerd was the only one he trusted enough to assist him with this task.

After climbing one final ledge Bakugou comes to a stop Rubbing vigorously at his temples in attempt to stop the building tension headache. The pain stemming from his draconian sides repeat attempts at taking over his rational mind. Waiting for Midoryia to catch up, the king stood just outside of a cave that led inside of the mountain itself.

“We’re going inside?” Deku panted as he stared at Katsuki incredulously. “Yep C’mon” the king replied, immediately heading inside. Once inside the cave their path was blocked by what appeared to be a wall of volcanic rock. Placing both of his crackling palms atop it, the rock wall seemingly melted away, green eyes grew wide signifying the other man’s amazement.

“This is my horde, tell anyone the location, show up here without permission, or steal something and you’re dead, got it?” The King says with fire in his eyes, drawing himself up to his imposing height to make it easier to look down on Deku.

“I-of course not, I mean yes understood!” The frightened male squeaks, nodding his head nervously.

Turning his back on the cowering man, Katsuki walks further into the cavern. Treasures of all sorts line the pathway, Izuku can’t help but continue to marvel at all of it. A single path branched off the crowded walk way that led further into the cavern. Following it took the two men into what appeared to be a room carved into the rock wal

It wasn’t huge, it was small enough to be considered comfortable. Izuku noticed the various objects and decorations in this area were different than the haphazard treasure piles outside it. These things been placed with care, silk sheets covered the pile of furs and pillows surrounded what was obviously a bed in the center of the room. There was no spot that indicated the bedding had been slept on, and before the green haired man could contemplate this any further, the hulking blonde motioned for him to approach the spot.

“Paint these ruins right here” the king orders, lifting the bedding up and exposing the floor before he hands his subordinate a page that had been torn out of an obviously old book. Taking the ripped page carefully, Deku examines it curiously. Only to realize this was something in an ancient draconian language, raising a brow he begins to ask “What do these-“ only to be cut off by an angry “None of your damn business, just hurry up and come paint them”.

While Izuku set about his task, Katsuki continually left the room and returned with different things.

Arranging the treasures neatly, adding more decor and standing back to look at it satisfactorily.

Only to frown and take it away, going back out into the cave and exchanging the rejected items with something else. Once the runes were transcribed perfectly across the stone floor they glowed red hot, and burst into what had to be flames. This makes poor Deku Yelp loudly, jumping back to avoid getting burned. Quickly he grabs his bag and attempts to smother the flame, “Oi what the fuck are you doing?! Move idiot!” Katsuki exclaims as he runs over. Disregarding the frightened babbling coming from the startled man on the floor. The king takes a breath before closing his eyes in concentration lifting his hand that rapidly began forming into one of a dragon. Using the sharp talons to slice his other palm, blood began pouring out of the wound and dropping onto the burning shapes.

That’s when Izuku realizes that the flames weren’t burning anything despite the intense heat they were emitting. When the drops of blood hit the various letters it would sizzle loudly before extinguishing the flame all together. By the time each letter had been coated and the fire had been put out completely, only a faint outline of ruins appeared etched into the cave floor. The king carefully placed the bedding back in place to cover them up and smirked, very pleased with something apparently.

“Kaachan?”

“Listen up nerd, you’re going to help me haul the rest of the necessities I need up here before the wedding, since you are the only person other than shitty hair that knows where my horde is, now c’mon we have shit to do” with that the king is quick to leave the room, and a very confused Deku inside of it. Something felt off to Midoryia about that enchantment, making sure he had all of his personal items put away before getting to his feet. Emerald eyes notice the old scrap of parchment had drifted a little off to the side during his earlier scare, considering Katsuki hadn’t picked it up or asked for it back, its quickly stashed away in a pocket of his satchel.

“WHAT THE HELL IS TAKING SO DAMN LONG?!”

“S-Sorry! Coming Kaachan!”

Back at the castle Mina and Momo had finished styling your hair and now were dressing you in your formal attire for the celebration taking place in the capital that evening. The white dress had translucent sleeves that billowed outward when you walked, the slits on either side, and cut outs on the sides of your sternum made you nervous.

“You look wonderful, everyone is going to think so” compliments the pinkette.

“I absolutley agree with Mina, you look every bit a future queen, the people will definitely be reassured they’re in good hands with you and the king” Momo adds with a polite smile. Thanking the both of them you glance out the window and notice that the moon has already taken its place high in the sky, shining bright as ever.

Without thinking you strode toward the doors of the small balcony in your room, opening them and stepping out into the fresh night air, closing your eyes and letting the gentle breeze caress your skin.

The two women watched you in fascination, it was as if your were taking in the light from the moon as one would from the sun on a warm day.

“Such a warm, gentle light” your whisper is lost on the faint wind, your heart swells in your chest at the fond memories made back then in your true home, the beautiful flowing silver hair and dazzling smile of a women dances behind your eye lids “Mother I miss you…I wonder what you think of all this…I hope you will come to watch me get married….or prevent it if its something that shouldnt happen…”. A ethereal glow surrounds you, making Mina and Momo gasp excitedly, the reassurance you had began to feel seemed to be a good enough answer from the goddess. As you turned to head back inside you paused in the threshold, glancing over your shoulder up at the crystal like light in the sky, the soft breeze blows hard enough to ruffle your dress. The voice that was carried on the winds from the heavens above was for your ears alone.

I will be there

The party was well underway by the time Kirishima escorted you out onto the balcony where two identical blondes sat overseeing the festivities. Katsuki is on his feet before you step through the door, you reach out to him and his expression softens as he takes your hand in his. “You look beautiful y/n” Mitsuki says as she too has gotten to her feet “The people are ready to meet their future queen”. Your stomach fills with butterflies as you take your place beside the dragon king. The older woman gestures towards a blonde precariously dressed man with a thin mustache, he gives a nod before loudly addressing the guests;

“Attention please! The royal family has announcement to make”. His voice has to be magically amplified some how, it’s so loud it makes you want to cover your ears.

“Thank you all for coming to join us in celebrating the unveiling of your soon to be queen” Mitsuki smiles warmly at the crowd below, gesturing for Katsuki to take over.

As soon as the king steps forward the people cheer “Long Live the Dragon King!” “Congratulations your majesty!” “King Bakugou!”.

The smirk he flashes his subjects has many in the crowd swooning, as soon as he begins to speak they all quiet down “I know many of you have long awaited the introduction of a new queen to rule beside me…It took longer than I would like to admit to find her, twas an accident that she came across me grievously injured from my battle with one of the ancient ones” a dramatic pause has the room so silent you could hear a pin drop, Katsuki smiles over his shoulder at you before continuing “It’s by the grace of Selene herself that her one and only daughter would not only find me, but put in the effort to nurse me back to health, I knew as soon as I opened my eyes and beheld the beauty above me that she was the one…my true mate and now your future queen my princess

y/n”. You allow yourself to be pulled forward and now stood at your fiancé’s side, the crowd below erupts into applause, shouting and chanting.

“Goddess Born!”

“Daughter of Selene”

“Keeper of moonlight”

“Long live the King and Queen!”

You smiled and waved to the people, happy when Katsuki holds you close to him. You glance up to admire your handsome fiancé, without thinking you lean upwards and he meets you halfway in a passionate kiss that has the citizens cheering even louder.

Pulling away the two of you touch foreheads briefly before waving to the crowd once more and moving away from the edge of the balcony.

“Should I have said something?” You wonder aloud, glancing over your shoulder wearing a confused expression. “You did fine darling, if you had addressed them they would have went berserk with excitement, we don’t want the castle getting torn up before the wedding” Mitsuki reassures you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Handfuls of nobles and commoners alike swarm to shake your hands and introduce themselves when you briefly come down to mingle among them. You spot Izuku’s green curls across the room and are quick to excuse yourself, happy to see a familiar face. He’s talking to a woman whose cheeks are bright pink as she giggles at something, only to immediately pause after catching sight of you.

“Midoryia!” You called out, smiling once you reached him.

“Princess! Hello!” He stands up straight, greeting you warmly “This is my good friend Ochako Uraraka”.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you your highness” the pink cheeked girl says shyly.

“You as well, no need to be so formal! Please call me y/n” you reply happily “I’m relieved to see someone familiar, I’ve met so many new people tonight already!”.

“The whole kingdom is buzzing with excitement, I bet it’s overwhelming!” Ochako exclaims, glancing around the room “Most of us didn’t think Bakugou would ever end up finding his fated partner”.

You chuckled at that, it certainly made sense why they would feel that way. Before you could continue your conversation you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder “Come now y/n, let’s get you back to Katsuki, Ejiro just informed me that he’s getting pissy” Mitsuki says with a roll of her eyes, Kirishima nervously scratches the back of his neck behind her. It takes the couple by surprise when you hug each of them “Hopefully we can have a longer conversation next time, bye Midoryia, nice meeting you Ochako!” You say quickly, flashing them a dazzling smile before taking hold of Mitsuki’s hand, Kirishima following closely behind the two of you as you head back towards the raised platform.

Katsuki was slouched in his chair, two of his knights you hadn’t met yet, along with Mina, all appeared to be teasing him. If the scowl on his face was anything to go by that is. “I brought her back just as I promised you damn cry baby” Mitsuki snapped as she released her hold on you. Gracefully moving past the older woman you were about to take a seat beside the brooding king, only to let out a startled yip as his large hands took hold of your hips and yanked you into his lap. “Yeah what happened to only five minutes? It’s been at least an hour, she’s not your show pony old hag” Bakugou sneers at his mother, making you gasp,

“My king how could you speak to your mother in such an awful manner?!”. This only makes the woman smirk at her son as she looks down her nose at him, “Listen to your wife Katsuki, she’s got a much better head on her shoulders”.

“Yeah yeah” the disgruntled blonde huffs, waving his mother off.

“We haven’t had the chance of meeting yet my lady” the yellow haired male says, immediately moving closer to take your hand.

“Denki Kaminari at your service” he presses a kiss to the back of your hand before bowing low. “Let go of her hand before I take off your head DunceFace” Katsuki snarls.

Kaminari is immediately bumped out of the way for his black haired counterpart to stand before you, “Hanta Serro, pleasure to make your acquaintance my lady”.

Serro bows to you, flashing a toothy grin as he does so.

“Nice to meet you gentlemen” you say with a polite smile.

“Now piss off you all” Bakugou grumbled “Want a minute to speak to my women without any comments from the peanut gallery”.

Both knights give him a mock salute, and wave at you as them and Kirishima leave you two.

Immediately you feel warm hands squeeze at your sides and you lean your forehead against their owner’s. “You okay? I thought you would get overwhelmed meeting so many people” Katsuki asks, admiring your beauty as you close your eyes. “It wasnt that bad, I’m fine now though” you reply, a pleased hum followed it as Katsuki’s hands began to brush across the skin of your hips that was exposed from the slits in your dress. His hands are warm as they trail down your thighs, leaving tingles in their wake as they travel back upwards. He decided to continue this action, caressing your exposed skin, allowing the skin on his palms to slightly increase in temperature. A prideful smugness begins building inside of him after noticing with each pass over your hips you’re leaning further into him.

Soon your head comes to rest between his neck and shoulder, the relaxed sigh you emit has your breath ghosting across the sensitive skin. Without thinking he grabs a bit too harshly at your hips, causing an adorable squeak to come from you. So he does it again, only this time it gets a much different result.

The cute little “humphh” was there, but what followed it was….teeth.

Your teeth grazed the skin of his neck before nipping it. The pain was nothing to the dragon king, but combined with the warmth of your tongue poking at it, that was everything.

Katsuki abruptly got to his feet, his grip shifted beneath your ass in order for him to swiftly carry you out of the crowded ballroom. The two of you are out the door you’d entered to reach the balcony before you could properly access the situation. Carrying you a little ways down the castle hallway, the king stops at a small alcove. Deeming the small space good enough to press your body against the polished stone wall. “My king?” You ask nervously, his body pressing against your’s even though he was as close to you as possible already.

“Won’t everyone notice we left?” You only get a rumbling growl In response, your body tensing as the king squeezes your hips again, his nose coming down to sniff at your neck.

Still haven’t claimed her yet? Coward, I’ll have to change that.

“M-my king?”

Feel that?

Your core grows wet with slick as you begin to lose yourself in these

new pleasurable sensations caused by your lover’s continued motions. They fueled the aching need between your spread thighs, little whimpers escaping as you begin to rut against his abs.

I think she likes me more than you…think I’ll claim her, since you have been dragging your feet…Let me show you how it’s done.

Crimson eyes begin growing black they eat up the sight of you breathing heavily and growing desperate.

One of his fingers slip into your wet hole, earning a gasp from you. His eyes drinking in your appearance, enjoying the moment.

“O-ohhh Katsuki!” Your mouth hangs open, your nails bite into the skin of his biceps “I…please Katsuki I need more…want you my king”.

Bakugou finally regained control over his body, not that you know he had ever lost it. The sight of you growing so needy from his touch was overwhelmingly gorgeous.

His lips crash into your own as he begins sisscoring you open.

“Mmm princess…tell me what you want…just tell me and I’ll give it to you y/n…you look so beautiful like this” Katsuki moans as one of your hands tangles in his hair, forcing his head forward to continue the kiss.

“I want…hahhh…want you” you whine into his mouth before curling your tongue with his “I want you to ravage me King Katsuki…show me how a dragon makes love” Surely he couldn’t fuck you right here in this hallway? After all the work he’d put in back at the mountain to make your first (and only) mating perfect….

“Katsukiii”

He couldn’t.

“I want you to.. I want you to fuck me”

He can, and he will.

“Whatever princess wants, princess gets” the king replied, one hand wrapping around your throat and gently beginning to apply pressure.

“Oh? You like this, don’t try to bullshit me when you keep squeezing my fingers” he applied a little more pressure as his other hand moved to free his aching cock. “M’gonna fuck ya right here, right now…don’t care who sees do you? Begging for me like a desperate little whore”.

Your whines are growing higher in pitch as you begin to fuck yourself on his fingers. “Gods princess you look so good like this, I got what you need right here baby” he mumbles, guiding the head of his dick towards your slit. Gathering some of the wetness leaking from you, both of you were holding your breath and watching the spot where you would be conjoined. Just as you felt the tip of him against your fluttering entrance, did you both notice the sound of footsteps approaching. Katsuki releases his hold on you, making sure you could stand alright before stuffing his dick back in his pants. You leaned down to grab your ruined panties off the floor, sticking them deep into his pants pocket. Smoothing down your dress, you moved forward and grabbed his hand pulling him along. You both appeared calm when you met Kirishima as he rounded the corner.

“There you guys are! Sorry to bother but Jeanist and Aizawa wish to meet with you before the night’s end My king” the red haired man says, his large smile is a bit sheepish as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Take her back to her room, I’ll tell pinky to join you” Katsuki orders his knight, who nodded before moving a slight distance down the hallway.

“I know you must be worn out princess, it’s been a long day…” the king began, dropping your hand to touch your cheek “Get some sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow”. As he leans down to kiss you he is abruptly thwarted by your hands pushing against his chest, “Tomorrow?!” You practically squawk at him “What am I to sleep alone?!”.

Blaming your heightened emotions on your guy’s previous actions, tears well up in your eyes,

“What was all that for if you just planned to abandon me afterwards?”. Later that night as you lay awake staring off into space, your reaction would embarrass you.

That would be then, this here was now.

“We shared the same space throughout our time together on the island, slept side by side! Now that you’ve uprooted me and brought me here to this foreign land, where I have no family or allies, you leave me alone and refuse to share a bed?! This is where you draw the line?” You kept your volume at a harsh whisper to avoid attracting any unwanted eavesdroppers.

You pulled away as Katsuki reached out towards you, “Go and handle your business, I refuse to stoop so low as to disrupt the order of your kingdom, Goodnight King Bakugou”. “Y/n wait! You can’t just say all that and walk away, we aren’t done with this conversation! Get back-“ the king went silent as he heard a door open further up the hallway, his arm dropping back to his side. Turning to leave, the last thing he sees is Kirishima following after you.

Should have just let me handle it.

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki snarls, stopping just outside the door he’d carried you out of previously “Don’t think you ever are going to pull that same bullshit again, that’s my woman!”.

You forget, I am you….

Before he can respond the Door opens and his mother stares back at him “Where’s y/n?”.

“I sent her to bed, she was tired”

The clipped tone of her son’s voice was nothing the older woman wasn’t used to. Something wasnt right, as she moved to let her son pass by her eyes scrutinized him.

“Oi what’d you two old bastards want? My intended is upset with me now thanks to you assholes” the King snarls, approaching the two men that stood waiting.

“Hello to you too your majesty” Jeanist replies, pushing his dark blonde bangs further to the side.

Aizawa only rolls his eyes, “Let’s move somewhere quieter, too much going on down there”.

“Y/n seems nice, how’d you two meet? I figured Bakugou would have kept her hidden until tonight” Ochako asks, excitedly taking a large bite of cake. “Hmm? Oh well long story short I gave her shelter when she had been caught out in a storm” Midoryia replied, absentmindedly glancing around the ball room. “What was she doing out in a storm?” The witch asks around her fork, savoring the first bite. “Oh uh well” Izuku chuckled nervously “It was just due to a misunderstanding, no big deal or anything”. “Bakugou upset her and she took off, got lost, only to be found and saved by you…right?” Ochacko asked, fixing him with a narrowed eye stare. “Right” the green haired man sighs.

“I just dont get it Mina….how could he just dismiss me like that after…well you know! I just dont understand what I did wrong” you lament to the pinkette brushing your hair out. “You didnt do anything, im sure that he was seconds away from whisking you off to his chambers, if the two of you hadnt been interrupted” replies Mina, briefly glaring at the bedroom door Kirishima was currently posted outside of. “Typically our people dont wait for marriage to mate, mating often times proceeds a formal marriage, but you are someone special, and I believe thats why the king is waiting until after the wedding to break your back” she explains, wrapping the silk scarf around your tresses.

“W-What?! Break my back??” You stammer fearfully.

“Its a figure of speech, basically he’s going to do it so good you wont be able to leave the bed afterwards, rumor has it the king is rough, and likes to get a bit freaky too, so good luck with that” Mina teases as she knots the scarf, tapping your shoulder with the brush as she chuckles.

“Mina! I might be offended if I knew what any of that even meant” you whine, shaking your head back and forth.

A/N: I hope the length of this made up for the last one! I tried to find out if there was a form of A/B/O for dragons so I could use those terms, but I guess they go by the same things? I dunno 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thanks for all the love and support you guys show me, it makes me happier than you know ❤️‍🔥

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #mha #fantasy au #bnha #dragon bakugou #dragon king bakugou #royal au

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starry-eyed-adam · 6 months

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panic attack writing prompts :)

“My chest hurts. It hurts.”

“I can’t!”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t touch me!”

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

tw: gunshots, trauma, panic attack

takes place a year or so after chapter 21 of Head Over Boots, they’re on their camping trip :)

The gunshot seemed to scream through the air, some hunter’s nearby attempt at murder of an animal, the sound rattling against Yuichi’s skull as it penetrated his ears. Faintly, the logs in his arms tumbled and hit the soft forest floor, and Yuichi fell similarly, shaking hands over his ears as he curled up tightly, defensively.

Another shot, and Yuichi yelped as his chest constricted, heart thudding erratically as he felt an icy grip around him.

Boots on the dirt, towards him, barrel of a shotgun between his eyes.

“You’ve ruined everything.”

“Honeybunny?” Leo glanced over his shoulder at the absence of footsteps behind him. The slider dropped his own firewood and hurried back, brow furrowed at the sight of his husband crouched low, shaking on the ground. “Yuichi, hey, what happened?”

Yuichi didn’t answer, barely heard a word. The world bled in and out of focus, his ears still rang, from the day his stallion threw him from the saddle and he lay there to die.

To die.

Cold metal against his jaw. A threat, and not an empty one.

Pump.

Click.

BANG!

Leo’s hand reached to gently rub his lover’s back, an attempt to ground him, bring him back.

“Don’t touch me!” Yuichi shrieked, and the cowboy instantly drew back. “Don’t touch me!”

“Darlin’, hey, you’re safe,” whispered his worried husband, kneeling before him. “I’m right here. It’s okay.”

“M-My chest,” Yuichi gasped, removing one hand from his ears to clutch at the front of his shirt. Tears spilled down his cheeks, left clean streaks against the dust and dirt. “It hurts, it—it hurts.”

He was going to die. He was going to die he was going to die he was going to—

“Honeybunny,” spoke Leo, slow and soothing, “I need you to take a deep breath, okay? It hurts ‘cause you ain’t breathin’ enough.”

Gasping, chest rising and falling so rapidly and shallowly, Yuichi tried to remember how to breathe. Sucking in air too fast, he choked and coughed. “I—I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Yuichi, honey, nobody’s gonna hurt you. I’m right here, okay? Deep breaths, darlin’. Watch me.” Hesitantly, reluctantly, Yuichi cracked his wild, glistening eyes open, found Leo’s calm blue ones. “Good, good,” whispered the slider with a smile. “Take a deep breath in, through your nose. Slow.” Watching his husband breathe in, so slow and easy, Yuichi closed his mouth to copy him.

“There ya go! Good. Now out through your mouth.” Leo blew out a breath, and, shakily, Yuichi did the same. “Good job, honeybunny. Take another breath in.”

The guided breathing went on for what felt like ages as Yuichi’s chest loosened, and the frigid feeling slipped away, melted into the forest floor with his terror. “There you go,” whispered Leo with a small, proud smile. “Is it okay if I hold your hand, honeybunny?”

Yuichi wiped at his eyes with a sniff and nodded after a moment. The familiar feeling of the rough, calloused palm in his own, the sensation of Leo’s thumb rubbing little circles against the back of his hand, was an instant comfort, and Yuichi closed his eyes to breathe deeply again. “Good job,” praised his husband again, smiling warmly at him. “You wanna tell me what happened, there?”

Swallowing, rubbing at his eye again, Yuichi made a face. “It was, um. It was stupid,” he mumbled. “I heard a gunshot. And I got scared.”

“Mm.” Leo continued to rub his hand, still breathing so slow and calm. “That ain’t stupid. Gunshots are scary. Especially after what Don’s put ya through.” He shifted to sit beside Yuichi, guiding his husband to lean into his side, rest his head on his shoulder. Yuichi closed his eyes with the soothing comfort of Leo’s body, the smell of pine and hay and the cologne that always stayed on his clothes.

“Think you can make it back to camp, honey?” whispered Leo, rubbing his back. Yuichi sniffed again and nodded, moving to stand but wincing at the burning pain that radiated through his knees. Dammit.

“It’s okay, I got ya.” Leo grinned as he wrapped his arm around Yuichi’s waist, lifting him to stand like he weighed nothing. “Wanna grab your firewood? We’ll head back to camp an’ take a nap, okay? Panic attacks are exhaustin’.” He kissed Yuichi’s cheek with a small smile, and the rabbit yokai returned it, lingering for a moment. Yuichi watched with a grin of his own as Leo started back on the trail, going to gather the wood he’d dropped.

Damn, he was lucky to have someone who loved him so much.

prompts below! from @unboundprompts

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo #rise leo #rottmnt head over boots #head over boots #rottmnt yuichi usagi #rottmnt leosagi #leosagi #leoichi #panic attack #rottmnt angst #angst with a happy ending #panic attacks #writing prompt #writing prompts

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fayes-fics · 7 months

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When The World Is Free - Chapter 10: Hymne à L'amour

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. Oral sex (m to f), a smidge of edging, handjob, vaginal sex, woman on top, orgasms.

Word Count: 4.1k. Who is surprised the sex chapter is my longest? Yeah me neither

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is the smutty goodness people. Please heed the warning change. if you want your story chaste, please skip this chapter. There is no plot, just porn. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Portsmouth, UK, September 1939

As soon as your lips meet his, he grabs your face and kisses you back harder than he ever has, a faintly panted growl that makes something turn molten inside. Kissing you like his life depends on it, an urgency in his tongue and lips that stun you.

You go to say his name, but he swallows it and hushes you, his lips never leaving yours as he does so. One hand slides down your front as you kiss, a teasing trail of fingers over your clavicle that makes all your senses fire. He pulls back and stares intently into your eyes as the hand slides lower and cups your breast through your dress.

“Benedict,” you gasp, and the look of victory on his face is devastatingly handsome. He doesn't break eye contact as his thumb swipes gently over your nipple, and your breath hitches a rasping inhale.

“There it is,” he smiles crookedly, “that sound I love to hear.”

His thumb swipes with a little more pressure but still maddeningly slow. You already feel on tenterhooks, heart hammering, body rioting—part of you wants him to be fast, maybe even a little rough, for him to be impatient from the same boiling passion that you feel simmering in your bones. Another part of you wants him to go so slow that you are clawing at him, broken and wrecked, pleading for him to take pity on you as you tremble and teeter so close to something mind-blowing.

Neither of those extremes is anything you have experienced yet, and you want him to be the one to give you both more than you want to breathe—a passion only he can evoke. You have seen glimpses of him untamed, especially last night in the cottage when he sent you away, his whole being seemingly shaking with need; you want to inspire that in him again, now, tomorrow, maybe always.

“Undress me….” a hushed plea you exhale shakily, desperation for him to touch your flesh.

He pulls back a fraction, eyes glittering, hand still upon your breast.

“Like this?” his voice like butter as that hand moves to the top pearl button over your sternum, a teasing crooked smile on his lips as you breathe heavily and stare up at him.

The air feels charged as his fingertips brush featherlight down the sliver of skin he reveals, with each button popping open, leaving a little trail of fire all the way to your navel. The buttons continue to the hem at your knees, and you want to groan as he slips to his knees before you and continues the unfastening at a steady but unrushed pace, staring up to catalogue your face as you look down at him.

You quake as his fingers pass close over the front of your underwear but do not touch, and you want to whimper. He keeps going, deft fingers undoing each button over your thighs, goosebumps raising as you feel his warm breath ghosting between the fabric as he works. When the last is undone, he leans back on his haunches and looks up at you again, eyes blazing.

“Take it off.”

It’s halfway between a plea and an order, maybe both and your body blossoms all over, tangy want metallic on your tongue. The pure desire writ large on his face gives you the confidence to reach up and push the fabric off your shoulders, allowing the dress to part and fall to the floor behind you, hitting the carpet with a soft whump. Your knees almost buckle at the noise he strangles in the back of his throat as you tower above him in bra, underwear and stockings.

“Touch me… please,” it’s a quiet but imploring request.

Almost reverential, his hands raise and ghost over your knees then thighs, not yet touching, almost as if there is too much choice, and he has no idea where to begin. Then they land heavily on the outer flare of your hips, a grip that is strong but not harsh and his face pitches forward, burying his warm nose into your navel and inhaling deeply before dropping a tender kiss right on the sensitive spot at the top of your belly button. You want to curl forward over him, the breath swept from your lungs at this simple gesture. Your hands grip his warm, broad shoulders as he nuzzles into you.

“You smell so sweet,” he almost sounds pained, wistful, his hands sliding around to cup the globes of your button and propel you further into his arms.

He is clinging to you, strong arms wrapped around your hips, his knees on either side of your feet. He drops a line of kisses across your belly that has your abdominals rippling and a shiver running all over you as his fingers deftly unhook your stockings and pull them gently down your legs. Kneeling before you as if worshipping your body. Clinging to you like his very life depended upon it, looking up at you with devoted, blown pupils. It's a potent elixir and makes you want to strip bare for him.

As you step out of your stockings, you let go of his shoulders to reach behind and unhook your bra before the spell is broken, boldly throwing it aside as he makes a joyous noise and pushes up onto his knees, latching onto your nipple with a suction that has you calling out his name. It makes him feral, almost snarling, hands kneading your lace-clad bottom as he sucks harder, and you flood your underwear, the need for him making you shudder.

“Don't stop…” your voice sounds foreign to your own ears, your tooth snagging your lip, eyes fluttering shut as he swaps to your other breast and your fingers card into his thick, luscious head of hair, massaging his scalp with little swirling motions that match the wet tongue circling your areola.

“Please look at me….” he calls, and your eyes reopen to see him looking up at you as he flattens his tongue and licks over your puckered nipple, his eyes flashing fire, wanting you to watch him do this to you, watch your body physically change under his ministrations, your skin flushing darker.

Just as time seems to slow like molasses, he suddenly stands up. A complete change of pace as you are hauled high into his arms, like in the kitchen this morning, your legs twine around his waist on instinct, feeling something hard on your damp knickers as his lips crash into yours, urgent, hot, passionate. Then he is moving, slim hips flexing against your inner thighs and your back is pressed into the wall, the velvet wallpaper tickling your spine, the pictures rattling in their frames as he takes your hands and pins them above your head, fingers sinking between yours, so your hands form a tight fist together, your wedding rings clinking together.

“You make me wild, wreckless, wanton…” he murmurs, breaking the kiss, his being racked with that same trembling you felt before he sent you away last night.

“The feeling is mutual,” you assure, panting lightly, the slightly rough treatment such a contrast to the slow reverence he knelt before you in.

It’s a compulsion, a magnetic pull, something in your chemistry pulling you to each other even though you met barely days ago. Putting aside the added complication of marriage from your mind as you concentrate on the physical. He makes you bold in ways you never expected and awakens things within you you didn't know even existed. You want him to act on every instinct he has, want him not to hold back. It feels at once ethereal and rooted deeply in something physical—primaeval, dark, damp and earthy, like soil.

Rather than speak words, you tilt your hips where they wrap around his body and rub yourself shamelessly over the hard mass you can feel through his pyjama bottoms. His grip on your hands slackens, and his face buries into your neck, almost biting with intensity as he sucks the cord of your neck and you repeat your move, your swollen nub mashed deliciously onto his hardness, the lace of your underwear just heightening the heady sensation.

“I want to hear you beg...” he confesses, sounding guilty but compelled to utter it, his lips still on your neck. “But I also want to indulge your every whim before you even know you have it.”

That he has the capacity to articulate all the same feelings swirling in your head impresses. You feel you can barely string a sentence together, need overwhelming your usually razor-sharp mind.

“Please….”

It's all you can say in response, but it seems enough. With another untamed noise, you are on the move again, and within seconds, he is lowering you onto the bed, hovering over you in a way that fills your whole field of vision.

“I need to be the best you have ever had…” confessions tumbling from him as he lowers his weight onto you, heat and muscle pinning you down in a way that has you instantly clawing at his t-shirt, fabric straining over the lithe muscles of his upper back.

“You already are….” you admit breathily, letting his legs sink between yours and his knees push yours out wide, his hard quad muscle under soft cotton. The pace slowing again to something decadent, rich like dark chocolate.

He leans up onto his knuckles, the mattress dipping on either side of your body as he does so.

“Do not return to him,” he beseeches, earnest vulnerability clouding his expression. “Even if you do not remain with me, he is unworthy of you…”

Something in your chest cracks at his sincerity. “I will never return to him,” you vow over a shaky breath, too afraid to confirm he is the only place you want to be.

Instead, you do what compels you, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him back down into a kiss. Feeling overwhelmed by him caging you, hands gripping your waist as your tongues tangle, your pelvis mashed to his, wanting him to be as naked as you are.

“Take this off,” you almost whine, plucking at the sleeves of his t-shirt as you surface for breath.

He chuckles at that and sits up slightly to whip it off, a glimpse of a toned torso before the heat of his chest is lowered over yours, and you lose all power of thought. Fingers tracing the contours of tendons you feel flexing on his shoulders as his hands wander, sending a current shimmering over your body until he hooks his fingers into your underwear and starts to tug them down your hips. Shuffling lower, his mouth is again hot on your breasts as your underwear slips further, somehow untangling from you just long enough to discard them. You are utterly naked under him, knowing he can scent your arousal as he drops lower, lingering close to your belly button again, kissing, always kissing.

When he slips lower still something clenches low in your gut.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, a thread of alarm that he is muscling your legs over his shoulders.

He smirks at first then his face falls to one filled with concern. “No one has ever done this to you?” his ask laced with incredulity.

You stare down the plane of your body to his handsome face framed by your own thighs. “N-no,” you stumble out, always unable to lie to him, even now.

“A man cannot claim to love a woman and not do this,” he seems to seethe with an indignation on your behalf - that you have not experienced this before.

“What are you going to do?” you whisper.

His expression changes again - like an entirely different man inhabits him, a seductive look that has your face flushing. Without answering, he lowers his jaw between your legs and ploughs his tongue into the gathered, dewy wetness. You are on a cliff edge, a complete tumult as you inhale - sharp, ragged - the warm muscular swipe of his tongue in a place so intimate. Your hands grasp his forearm on instinct, needing something to hold onto as he does the same again. You swear out loud and writhe, the intensity making your body want to buck hard. A strong hand curling around your pelvis and locking you down to the bed. The static over your skin buzzes, a thrill zipping up your spine as you are held down and, well, devoured.

He is not gentle, using his whole face to wring a medley of novel sensations. The stubble of his face rasping the delicate skin between your legs, his lips suctioning hard on your folds, his tongue roughly lapping at the hardened pearl hiding there, a shock running high up into your pelvis from how he does so, you can feel yourself swelling and throbbing harder under his attentions. Drawing uneven gulped breaths, occasionally feeling a twinge so strong your abdomen clenches, your head raising off the pillow, a jolt so hard that your whole body seems to contract with a wave of pleasure.

Your hands grasp his hair, steering your pleasure, licking your dry lips. Now you understand why women talk in hushed tones about sex. This makes you want to scream and thrash and never stop. Just as you feel yourself spiralling somewhere truly heady, breath quickening, body boiling, he stops and sits back, looking triumphantly down upon your rippling body, his handsome face glistening in the lamplight with your arousal.

“Why did you stop?” Each word feels an effort to grit out, a large hand holding you down on your lower belly, his middle finger hooked into your belly button as you undulate under his hold.

“Because I want to see you like this,” his voice rich, decadent, sonorous, the tone bordering on smug as his eyes rake over your flushed torso, peaked, puffy nipples, swollen weeping slit, admiring his handiwork.

Even as you are in upheaval, your eyes fall from his victorious face to the bulge in his pyjamas, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine. A desire to take him to the edge and then sit back and observe, watch him writhe and flex. Unable to resist, you grab him with a force that makes him startle, his hold on you slackening in surprise. He is so hot and hard, and your fingers wrap around the outline and rub up and down his length. His eyes flash fire as your other hand moves to the drawstring to untie the bow. He doesn't stop you; he assists, climbing out of them as you stare covetously.

You didn't realise men could look so different until now, did not know what you have been missing, almost an apprehension about the scale of what you see. He guides your hand back to his flesh once his clothing is discarded. Velvet smooth and warm, you wrap your hand around him, noting the difference from the only other one you have touched. The noises he makes are different, too; needier, leaking over your knuckle as you squeeze in an upwards motion, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily, and his eyes closing as you glance at his face. So very different and so appealing.

“I have never….” you begin but feel unable to say it.

“You don't have to,” he replies rapidly, eyes popping open.

“But I want to…” you admit tacitly, an urge you have never felt before.

A wolfish grin claims his face, and he gently removes your hand, crawling over you, cupping your face and kissing you deeply, your naked bodies pressed together, his cock branding hot against your belly.

“Another time,” he asserts over your lips, and something inside you vaults that this isn't a momentary, fleeting opportunity. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he is almost hesitant, a benevolence that makes your heart skip, the moment turning tender, loving almost.

“I've never been more certain of anything,” you whisper, heartfelt, genuine, your hands running his sides, stopping to grasp the belt of muscle low around his middle, pushing yourself off the bed and into his warmth to emphasise your point.

With a soft smile and a sotto voce request to let him prepare, he rolls away and gathers a tin from his nightbag. Your stomach flutters with butterflies as you realise he is reaching for latex protection. You watch the play of muscles in his back as he does so, unseen, and you reach out and run a soothing hand over his spine on instinct, wanting to touch him any moment you can. He twists and smiles at you, grabbing your hand and kissing your fingers before turning back and crawling over you, a caring streak running through his evident desire.

Then he is upon you again, kissing with fiery intent, caressing your breasts and stomach, sweeping you back into a state where your blood runs hot, your skin glowing with want, that lantern behind your ribs that seems to burn just for him fully ablaze as he nudges your hips open gently with his, a hand guiding himself close to your body now.

“Look at me,” his request silky, and you cannot do anything but - his pupils a sea of inky glass blackness you can see a mirage of yourself in as he pushes into your body.

You thought time stopped when he first kissed you a few days ago. But that was nothing compared to this. A searing stretch so slow but so much more than you have experienced before, your toes curling into the sheets, your fingers digging hard into the rope of muscle pulled taut between his shoulder blades. Still, your eyes do not stray from each other as he keeps going, you holding your breath until he bottoms out, the feeling of fullness overwhelming. He holds still to allow you to adjust, even as you can see how much he is holding back, almost a shake in his being.

“I’m not made of glass,” you entreat.

His thumb sweeps your bottom lip, his wedding ring cool against your jaw where he cradles your face.

“But you are precious to me,” he counters, and the swell of emotions those words cause almost knock the wind from your lungs.

But then he starts to move, and you can barely breathe, regardless. He withdraws and then surges back in a wave. The tug deep inside makes you gasp, grab onto him, wrap your legs around his calves, toes tickled by the downy hair there. It is so wholly other than anything you have experienced; the past pales. This is what intimacy truly is. A wash of emotion that you could have gone through life and not known something like this.

“Are you alright?” his face creased with a tender concern as he moves slowly.

“I never knew what I was missing…” nothing but truthful.

His whole demeanour softens, his eyes soft and down-sloped, holding still buried within you; his words seem to echo through your body from where you are joined as he answers.

“You deserve the world, y/n.”

Emotion bubbles behind your ribs and blooms into sheer want - an impetuous need to channel the words you want to say but daren’t into action. Screwing your eyes shut and biting the edge of your tongue to tamp the urge to ask him to fuck you thoroughly, carnally, take you somewhere no one has before. But it's like he can sense it, for when he starts to move again, it's a snap of his hips that drives him deeper than before, making you moan loudly and rise off the bed, curving bowlike into his body.

You hiss your approval and he does it again, watching you carefully, cataloguing when you open your eyes again and meet his stare challengingly. Telegraphing silently that you want him to be merciless. The bed squeaks in protest as you start to move together, you pushing down as he thrusts up, your right and flying to the headboard to provide leverage, as his teeth scrap down your neck, over your clavicle, suckling hard on your breast as you speed up.

The sharp zing of sensation right down to your core makes you swear under your breath, spurring him on, his shower-damp hair an array of curls shaken loose as you go faster, his gaze like a thick veil you wear, sweeping your face, your body, glancing down to where you are joined, his breath hitched hard at what he glimpses You look too, drawn to the sight like never before, a want to see your body being invaded by him, somehow making it seem real rather than a fevered, lustful dream.

His right hand hooks behind your neck and tangles in your hair, hauling you up to meet his greedy lips, kissing artlessly but full of open-mouthed sighs and moans as you move yet faster, a sheen breaking out over both of your bodies. Your left hands clasp together on instinct, wedding bands clinking quietly, your eyes drifting to the sound, then back to each other. As if you had almost forgotten what you have done to allow yourself to get to this very moment.

It makes you fearless, so with a flick of your hips that surprises him, you are able to flip him over while he stays inside you, a need to ride, to take control of your own pleasure, something you have never done before. The flash of admiration on his face is priceless, his hands immediately grasping your waist and encouraging you to rise and fall on his cock, finding a whole new world of pleasure, angling to hit your swollen pearl on his pelvis when you sink.

He watches you with hooded eyes, whispering encouraging words, the slight burn in your thighs worth it for the looped call and response of his body and yours, moving faster now, letting him fuck up into you, again meeting each other halfway, as enthused as the other to wring all the pleasure you can from each second.

Then with a lopsided smile, his large hand spans downwards from your hip, his thumb sliding between your legs and hooking over the hood of your clit. The jolt makes you cry out and shudder, his resounding groan loud as you clamp hard around him.

“Don't you dare stop this time,” it’s almost a command through gritted teeth, and he looks surprised and so aroused you feel him ripple inside you.

He does as bidden, his blunt thumbnail catching perfectly around the side of your clit, the pad mashed against you as you ride hard now, muscles protesting, a bead of sweat sliding down your spine from your hairline. You are climbing again, just as he had you when his tongue was there; the memory of it drives you harder. Until you feel that dam breaking, your whole body wound tight and suddenly snapping with a violent release, a technicolour explosion behind your eyelids. Slamming down on Benedict, who calls out roughly as you come around him, gripped upon him tight as you flutter, his cock feeling so huge you swear you will still feel its imprint tomorrow. It never seems to end the sensation racing down your limbs to fizzle in your toes and fingers, a true livewire. Underneath you, Benedict grips your hips with a curse and a long, low groan; you feel him breaking, too, a pulsing ripple travelling up his length as he spills into the latex between you.

You slump forward onto his chest, heaving gulps of air, feeling so many contradictions - sated but still hungry, energised but exhausted, aching but ready to go again just to chase that intangible high. Benedict's lips are hot on your damp forehead, and you push off him slightly, a hitch in his breath as you do, your lips meeting in a prolonged kiss, an endnote to this symphony.

“I've never done that before,” you confess over a gratified giggle.

His smile is warm, his hands running up and down your back in soothing strokes. “Which part?”

“Both being on top and that…” suddenly shy to state the word.

He looks momentarily shocked. “Then I am so glad you got scammed,” he says with a conviction that makes you frown fleetingly. “I could not allow a world where you would go back to America and never have an orgasm…”

He is sincere, but something in the way he says it makes you break out into happy, carefree peals of laughter that has him joining in as he slips from inside your body.

This lighthearted moment seems to break any tension there may be about words you could say; it means you are still giggling together as he rolls you aside and, after discarding the condom, pulls you into his arms, both of you suddenly bone tired from the rollercoaster of a day.

“I am so glad I got scammed too,” you offer sleepily; he huffs a laugh, matching smiles as sleep claims you both almost instantly.

Benedict taglist pt 1: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

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narryffdreaming · 5 months

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — THREE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART THREE: 6,9k words Author’s note: ngl I thought this was "too short", and then I saw it's around 7k and realized that maybe this isn't short, but the other parts are just "too long", lol. Clearly I can't control myself. But anyway, this is part three and Aurora and Harry (finally) arrive in Italy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)

PART ONE || PART TWO

As it turns out, both Aurora and Harry completely forgot about the one hour time change, so whilst they thought they'd arrive around eleven, by the time they landed in Naples it was actually a few minutes after 12.

They realized, then, that since they would go together to Amalfi, sharing a taxi would be cheaper than taking the train — like they had both initially planned to do. Which is how Aurora ends up leaning against a white wall at arrivals, watching their bags while Harry wanders around and does some research for them.

Outside, the day is bright and sunny, something she's been admiring non-stop through the huge glass wall in front of her. Rays of light keep the exposed skin in her arms and chest warm, so there's no need for her to wear Harry's jacket anymore — although a part of her wishes she still had a reason to, just to keep smelling his cologne.

"Hey!" Harry calls, and Aurora turns her head to the side.

He approaches her confidently, pulling his hair back and smiling while strutting through the airport as if he owns the place. It's kind of impossible not to follow every one of his movements, and she's pretty sure anyone who lays their eyes on him would think exactly the same.

"It's done," he says, then raises both hands and gives her a double thumbs up. "Got us a taxi."

Summer looks good on him. It makes his skin glow, it highlights his tattoos, and it makes his happiness seem… Well… Even happier.

"Oh," she says, blinking and stepping away from the wall. "Great."

She clears her throat and glances to her phone, double-checking for the fiftieth time that her texts to Zack remain unanswered.

It's been over four hours since she texted him, and although she isn't surprised by his lack of interaction, she can't deny that it sucks to know he intentionally avoids replying to her texts — and that she probably won't hear from him until Sunday night, when he drops Noah off.

"No words from him yet?" Harry asks, now standing only a couple of steps across from her.

Aurora shakes her head and locks the screen, then looks up and faces him again.

"No… But hey," she says, offering him a sarcastic smile and fake enthusiasm as she adds, "if I'm lucky enough, maybe he'll pick up the phone tonight. Isn't that great?"

Harry pauses for a moment.

And then he snorts.

He flicks his gaze down and breathes in, filling his chest with air while taking one hand up to his face and rubbing his brow.

"Jesus Christ," he murmurs and chuckles shakily, almost as if he can't believe what he just heard.

Aurora feels herself softening in front of him, and her fingers itch to touch him somehow.

"I mean, it's okay," she says, tightening her phone inside her fingers and closing her other hand into a fist. "I knew this would happen when I decided to spend the weekend away."

Harry drops his hand to his side and shakes his head, then looks at her again.

Bright, sunny, warm summer seemed to turn into dark, cold, empty winter around him. He's clearly tense, and the look in his eyes is heavier now.

"For his sake," he says, voice sounding just as deep as she feels him in her bones. "I really hope he doesn't cross my way anytime soon."

It's unbelievable how quickly Aurora's mouth fills with water. As if she's salivating because of him.

The way he soaks up her worries and eases her sadness is certainly endearing, but the way Harry physically reacts to this specific situation gets her nerves stirring. He seems to be ready to stand up for her. Ready to fight the battle for her. Ready to be her armor and shield her from all and any attacks that Zack throws at her.

And as much as Aurora doesn't want things to get to that point, and as much as she isn't looking for that kind of attention from a man, the honest truth is that her insides respond too quickly to his behavior. Like she's craving for that aggressiveness. Or maybe like she's craving for someone to finally treat her the way she wishes to be treated. Someone who will throw a punch for her, and not at her.

Even just metaphorically speaking.

Aurora blinks, breaking away from the intensity of his stare as she hunches down and grabs her bag from the floor. She takes the opportunity to swallow all those new feelings down, hiding and locking them away, then stands upright again.

"I appreciate that," she says, curling her lips into a smile. "But we're in Italy right now, so I think I'm ready to leave Zack behind. At least for two days."

Harry focuses on her for a moment, flickering his eyes all over her face. Studying her. Almost like he's making sure she is telling him the truth.

She tilts her chin down and lifts her left eyebrow, and Harry meets her stare once again.

"You're right," he says, and closes his eyes. "Gimme a minute."

Taking all the time of the world, Harry breathes in deeply through his nose. When his chest is full, he freezes for a moment, and then lets all the air slip out through his mouth. Loudly and heavily.

It's a little bit dramatic. A little bit over the top. A little bit exaggerated. But Aurora can tell that he's intentionally forcing his movements. That he's getting on board with her and leaving things behind. And that he's making a big deal out of it because it's supposed to be a symbolic moment between them. Like drawing an imaginary line and setting a before and after for that trip.

Especially when he rolls his shoulders, tilts his head side to side vehemently, and then drops all the weight off his body.

"Ok," he says, opening his eyes while clasping his hands together and smiling at her. "I'm good!"

He leans down to grab his bag, too, and a foolish grin grows on Aurora's face.

"As I was saying," he adds, placing the strap on his shoulder as he looks at her again, "I got us a taxi. It's supposed to be just an hour and a half drive, but they said it can take us at least two hours to get there."

Meaning they will get there around what… 2:30? 3?

Aurora pouts.

"That sucks. Lucy had this whole thing planned in the morning."

"I know. But we'll make the best of it, anyway."

"Yeah…"

She puts her phone inside the front pocket of her bag, then looks around the airport.

They're still inside the crowded terminal, and it's safe to say that she has no idea where she's supposed to go next. She's been following Harry's steps since they landed — or maybe even since they took off — and she isn't actually interested in taking the lead right now.

"So… Where should we go, then? Can we get this taxi now or…"

"Mhm… Yes… We sure can…" Harry nods. "But first… There's something I have to tell you."

Aurora's face falls, and she drops her shoulders.

"Oh God… What?"

"It's nothing bad… At least I don't think so, but…"

Harry scratches his jaw and shrugs, then smiles sheepishly at her.

(Which, to be honest, does nothing to reassure her.)

She rearranges the bag on her shoulder with one hand, and encourages him to speak with the other, rolling her fingers in the air.

"But…?"

"Well… I might've lied a bit to the guy from the taxi company."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes. "Why? What did you say to him?"

"That we just… Y'know… Got married?"

Aurora drops her jaw.

"Married?!"

Harry chuckles.

"Mhmm..."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah…"

His face is bright with amusement, and even though Aurora can't understand what's so funny behind that joke, she can't help but mimic his emotion.

"Harry!" She laughs. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Because he gave me this whole speech, ok? About how he couldn't get us a car 'till five, and how we should've booked one at least one day before and… Well. Y'know…"

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at the lecture he got because of their poor planning skills, but the joy is still there. All over him. Radiating from his entire presence. Blooming into her.

"I see." Aurora nods, pursing her lips as she mulls over his words. "And us being married changes that because…"

He pulls his eyebrows together, as if the answer is the most obvious thing and he can't believe she's even asking that. "Because we eloped, duh. So of course we didn't have any time to plan or book anything."

"Oh my God."

Aurora laughs.

"So I guess this is our honeymoon now."

"You're insane."

"Hey, it worked, ok?" He raises the palms of his hands to her, then smirks, all proud of himself. "We didn't have a taxi, now we have one. So… You're welcome."

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest, but the smile never falters from her face.

"Fine. Whatever. Anything else I should be aware of about this lie?"

Harry takes a moment to think about it, hiding his hands inside his pockets and then shrugging.

"Nah… Don't think so."

"Good."

"Only that you're madly in love with me and couldn't wait to be my wife."

"Right."

"But that's pretty obvious."

"No, yeah. Of course."

"You also can't wait to get our honeymoon started, by the way."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep. So you're kind of desperate to get to our hotel."

Aurora snorts. "Okay then."

"Apparently," he says, stepping closer and nudging her side with his elbow, "you just can't get your hands off me."

She cackles, then, and shoves him off with one hand. "You wish!"

The small joke rolls easily and happily from her mouth. Mostly because she's determined to not ruin things all over again, but also because he brings that side out of her.

And Harry laughs, too.

"Hey," he says, shrugging and tilting his chin up, "a man can only hope."

"You're ridiculous."

"I mean, it gets you laughing so… Yeah. I'll take it."

She shakes her head, finding herself out of words. Even if she knows they're both just teasing around and that she doesn't need to worry about him misinterpreting her, there's only so much she can joke at once.

Unlike Harry, of course, who apparently can roll lie after lie out of his mouth.

"Ok, c'mon," he says, tilting his head and leading their way from arrivals to outside the airport. "They said there'll be a car waiting for us."

Aurora follows him in silence, and then she clears her throat.

"So, you really told them we got married?"

He smiles, and nods. "Yes."

"And they really think we're going to a hotel?"

"Mhmm." He looks at her over his shoulder and shrugs. "I didn't want to get into the whole yacht thing… Seemed too much trouble to explain."

"Right." She smirks, and raises her eyebrows. "But creating a lie about our marriage was easy-peasy, right?"

Harry purses his lips, clearly trying to hold himself back.

"I mean… Yeah. Had the whole story on the tip of my tongue."

They both look at each other for a moment, and then they both laugh.

See? That's the good thing about Harry: he makes Aurora laugh.

And he makes her laugh a lot.

Which isn't exactly news, because he always made her laugh, but still feels nice to remember.

Back in the day, the way Harry and Niall lived their lives used to be one of the reasons why she liked to hang out with them so much — they didn't have too many worries in the world, and they only cared about having fun. So whilst most people around her were planning for their futures and preoccupied about having everything figured out, they made her laugh about the most silly and random things, offering her a break from the pressures and expectations of adult life.

Of course, their lifestyle wasn't one that she could keep up with all the time, and at certain moments their behavior used to resemble childishness, but they definitely were good and fun people to keep around.

So much so that here's where they are right now.

"C'mere, wifey," Harry says, stepping out to the sunny day and pulling her to his side by her shoulders. "Time to give our driver a show."

She grimaces, then places her arm around his waist.

"Okay," she says, narrowing her eyes and adjusting her sight to the warm and natural brightness, "rule number one, you're not calling me wifey."

Harry squeezes her shoulder and laughs, throwing his head back and slowing their pace down.

"Right. Ok." He nods. "What should I call you, then?"

"What about… Nothing?"

"Oh c'mon! You're my wife now. We need to play the part." He guides her smoothly down the sidewalk, dodging strangers and skipping through a long line of white cars. "Does honey sound better? Or what about apple of my eye, huh? Cupcake? Pumpkin?"

She chuckles. "Harry—"

"Buttercup?"

"Stop."

"Kitten?"

"Ew, no—"

"Other half? Or what about…" He leans closer to her ear, then covers his voice with sweetness and cheesiness as he annoyingly murmurs, "My lovey-dovey?"

At that, Aurora cackles.

"Oh God," she laughs, squirming and shoving him off. "Stop. No nicknames for you."

"Ahhh, why?" He pulls her closer again, exuding pure joy and happiness as he speaks. "Nicknames are fun. I can be your honey bunny if you want me to."

"Absolutely not."

"Honey boo?"

"Nope."

"Lover boy, then."

"C'mon… You can't seriously—"

"Man of your dreams?"

Aurora snorts, but before she can say anything, Harry speaks again.

"Prince charming? Jellybean?"

"Harry, c'mon—"

"Hot stuff?"

"Stop!"

"Babylicious?"

And then she laughs again. Probably way louder than she should. Leaning into him and covering her face as she struggles to keep up with his feet.

"Oh my God! You're just so annoying. I can't even—"

"Mr. and Mrs. Styles?" a thick italian accent calls, and they both stop walking.

Aurora is still laughing, trying to catch her breath while she turns her head to the side. A gray-haired man dressed in a black suit steps away from a black car and walks forward, holding a polite smile and gentle expression as he approaches them with nothing but determination.

Harry squeezes her shoulder and leans in, getting closer to her ear.

"If you ask me," he murmurs, and the tone of his voice is suddenly so low that it becomes almost painful, "that should be the one. Mrs. Styles."

A shiver runs down her body, and she swallows.

"Scusi," the man says, thankfully sparing her from having to find any responses or reactions. "Signor e signora Styles?"

"Giusto!" Harry says, squeezing her shoulder and chuckling as he straightens his posture and pulls her closer to his side. "Signor e signora Styles. Sì."

"Piacere! Come stai?" The man stretches his arm, and Harry takes a step forward, shaking hands with him. "Sono Francesco, il tuo tassista."

"Francesco!" Harry smiles. "Buongiorno! Mi chiamo Harry e questa—" He squeezes her again, making a deal out of it as he kisses the top of her head. "È mia moglie, Aurora."

Aurora bites her lip, watching in silence as the man turns to her and stretches his arm once again.

"Aurora. Piacere. Un nome bellissimo."

"Uh…"

Truth be told, she has absolutely no idea what's going on, or what they are talking about. So she chuckles nervously, but makes sure to shake his hand anyway.

"I don't…" She says, tilting her chin up and glancing at Harry. "Sorry. I don't speak Italian."

Harry's expression softens, and the playfulness in his face turns into pure tenderness.

"Oh. No problem," the man says, the Italian accent still thick as he communicates in a different language. Aurora faces him again, and he adds, "Aurora, sì? Beautiful name."

"Oh." She smiles, cheeks getting slightly warm. "Uhm… Gra… Grazie?"

She turns to Harry, again.

"That's thank you, right?"

Still staring at her, Harry smiles, then nods.

Aurora looks back at the man.

"Grazie," she repeats.

"Non c'è di che! Andiamo, sì?"

Aurora tilts her chin up, looking at Harry and waiting for him to take over the conversation.

He shakes his head, then, and turns his attention back to the man. "Sì. Andiamo. Sì."

The man chuckles. "Sposi novelli, eh?"

"Mhm."

"Congratulazioni! Lo immaginavo. So riconoscere lo sguardo di un uomo innamorato."

Harry chuckles and looks down, then scratches his jaw with his free hand and clears his throat. "Così ovvio, eh?"

Aurora doesn't know if it's possible, but she feels her own eyes twinkling as she tilts her chin up and lands her gaze on Harry one more time.

He beams under the gorgeous sunshine, eyes greener than she's ever seen and cheeks flushed as he engages into a conversation with that man. Not only rolling Italian words out of his mouth, but also effortlessly putting them into sentences.

And she's so hypnotized by the whole thing, that she can't even be bothered by the fact that she's not being included or doesn't understand a single thing. She'll gladly let him take the reins for the entire drive as long as she gets to entertain herself with that view.

"Auri?"

Harry squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora blinks. She darts her eyes away from his face, swallowing while he steps towards the car and slides his arm off her shoulders.

"Shall we?" he asks, reaching for the strap on her shoulder.

Aurora is too starstruck to fight him, so she nods and lets him grab her duffel bag, then follows him with her eyes as he and the gray-haired-suited-man place it in the trunk, along with his.

And from then on, Harry plays his part like a true gentleman.

Their driver starts by opening the backseat door for them, but then Harry offers his hand for her to hold and get in first, kissing her temple when she walks past him. She chuckles, but only because of the effort he's putting on just to cover his own lie.

Once they're both inside, he doesn't complain about taking the middle seat when she chooses the window, and even makes sure she's comfortable and has her belt on.

"Possiamo andare?" the gray-haired-suited-man asks.

Harry peeks at her. "Good to go?"

"Mhmmm..."

He nods, then puts his belt on while answering their driver. "Sì, grazie."

The engine starts working, and they're officially on the move to the Amalfi Coast.

"Can I?" Harry whispers to her, hovering her hand with one of his.

"Oh…" Aurora looks at his inked forearm, reaching for her while he keeps his elbow tucked to his side. To be fair, after sobbing into his chest and sleeping on him like a koala, she truly doesn't think holding hands would be awkward at all right now. So she nods and turns her palm around, offering it to him. "Yeah, sure."

And when he places his palm on top of hers and intertwines their fingers, she can actually see herself benefiting from his lie — because Harry's warmth keeps her warmth, as well. Just like she needs to be. Just like she wants to be.

"Credo che Amalfi ti piacerà moltissimo," the man says. "È perfetto per gli innamorati!"

Harry chuckles and scooches down, comfortably spreading his long legs open and pulling their hands to rest on his thigh. "Grazie. È la nostra prima volta in Italia."

"Per quanto starai qui?"

"Solo due giorni. Domenica torniamo a casa."

Aurora is lost in the conversation, but she's also… Physically uncomfortable. Her arm is tense as she stretches it to lay on his leg, and she doesn't want to spend two hours like that. So she shuffles closer, tucking her elbow under his own and fully linking their arms.

"Bene, dovrai tornare un'altra volta per visitare più città," the man says.

Harry sits upright again, then slips his fingers off from her hand.

"Di sicuro," he says, lifting his arm and placing it across her shoulders. "Forse la prossima estate."

He takes his other hand to her palm, then, and intertwines their fingers once again.

It's like they need a moment to get comfortable and find a position that suits both of them, but eventually they get there. With Aurora melting onto his side and him brushing patterns on the skin of her arm.

The man nods and smiles, but says nothing, and silence finally settles in the car.

Until Aurora takes that as an opportunity to speak again.

"So…" she starts, watching their touching hands. "Did I miss something important from your private conversation?"

He freezes next to her. Stiffening his muscles and stopping the movements of his hand on her arm.

"Shit. I didn't even… Sorry." He spreads his hand open on her shoulder, and squeezes her gently. "We were just chit chatting about the city, that's all. But I'll keep in mind to translate now, yeah? Sorry."

"It's fine." She smiles, appreciating the sentiment.

To be honest, she doesn't really care. She wishes she had prepared herself a little bit better for a new country and a new language, that's for sure, but at least she's with Harry now. It will be a lesson learned for the next time — if there ever is one.

"When did you learn how to speak Italian, anyway?"

A smile grows on his face, and he tilts his head to lean it on top of hers.

"I don't know." He shrugs slightly, resuming the brushing of his fingers on her arm. "My mum… I learned from her, that's all."

Aurora frowns. "Is she Italian?"

"Uh… No, she… I mean, my grandfather was."

"Ohhh… Didn't know that. So you've always spoken Italian?"

"I guess? I don't know. I just can find my way around it… That's all."

Aurora hums, and turns to look through the window, admiring the view of a country she's never been to before.

And then she shrugs, making sure she sounds teasingly when she says, "Well… Now that you've brought up your mum, then I guess it'll be inappropriate to mention how incredibly hot and sexy you sound when you speak Italian, right?"

Harry chokes.

He literally chokes. Straightening up and coughing while letting her hand go to smack his palm on his chest.

Aurora sits upright as well, holding back a smile as she tries to catch a glimpse of his face and murmurs questions like "what's wrong?" and "are you okay?".

The driver says something, too, and Harry shakes his head, raising his free hand waving a finger at him.

"I'm…" He coughs again, and brings his hand to his throat. "Sto bene—" (cough) "Grazie."

"Ugh, see?" Aurora murmurs, leaning against the backseat and grabbing his hand on her shoulder, making sure he doesn't pull his arm away. "Told you. Incredibly sexy."

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Cough.

"Shit."

Cough.

Aurora giggles.

Yep. That's actually pretty fun.

They park at what first seems a dead-end street, but in reality it continues turning right and going up the hill.

Aurora gets out of the car slowly, feeling the hardness of the concrete under her feet as she straightens her back and tips her neck back. The sun is shining, and she rests the side of her hand on top of her eyes, blocking out the brightness and taking in the view — the hills, the rocks, the shades of green, the colorful houses and buildings.

She places her free hand against her breastbone, and slowly releases the air inside of her lungs. She doesn't want that surreal feeling to end, so she stands frozen in the spot for another moment, or two.

She's heard about people going through moments when all their concerns and worries fall away, but it has never been a first hand experience of hers. Not until that day, at least.

The closest she can imagine to that feeling was the moment she finally physically met Noah, the exact second his tiny crying body was placed between her arms. That didn't last too long, though, with her body hurting and the exhaustion taking over every inch of her — both emotionally and physically.

Earlier that day, when she woke up snuggled into Harry's arms, she also experienced something very similar to that — the same sense of calm and peace. Then again, it also didn't last too long, since she knew she was overstepping and had to pull herself from his embrace.

(Besides, to be fair, she isn't sure if it's the same thing, or if she's just really confused right now.)

Still, there she is right now, standing in an unknown city, where she doesn't know anyone and can't even speak the language, feeling as if all of her concerns and worries have fallen away. It's pretty similar to those other two occasions, only this time the feeling doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

It feels as if it's settled to stay.

The trunk of the car slams shut, and Aurora turns on her feet.

On the other side of the taxi, Harry chats excitedly with their driver. And behind them, opposite from the city, is the ocean.

It's a little after three in the afternoon, and they are finally at Marina Coppola, the port of Amalfi.

The gray-haired-suited-man looks at her and nods, saying things she can't even try to understand. The only words she somehow recognizes are "amore", and "buona giornata", but still, she isn't sure she really knows what they're supposed to mean.

So Aurora simply smiles, watching as Harry does — once again — all the talking for both of them.

"Grazie!" he says, clasping one hand on the man's shoulder and firmly shaking his hand. "Anche a te!"

The driver raises one hand at her, and she lifts one hand, too, waving and blinking slowly as he gets inside the car.

Harry moves to the sidewalk with both duffel bags, and Aurora waits for the man to drive away before getting closer to him.

And then she reaches for her bag, but Harry dodges her and taps her hand away.

"Nuh-uh, Mrs. Styles."

Aurora's cheeks warm up, and she rolls her eyes.

During their ride, their driver referred to her as Mrs. Styles more than a few times. He'd ask questions about the view, or chit chat about the weather and ask her opinion about it. And Harry, of course, would be the one to always translate the questions, making sure to not only include Mrs. Styles, but also emphasize it.

"Well… Marriage is over, so…"

She shrugs and smiles, but maybe her joke hits a little too close to her heart, because she doesn't feel like fighting him anymore. Instead, she allows her curious eyes to shift around and capture as many details as she can.

It is nice to see the ocean again. Long, wide, far-reaching. She's also seen a restaurant at the marina's entrance, and although the street is filled with cars, there aren't many people walking.

She remembers Lucy explaining in their group chat how they chose a weekend in May exactly because of that — because it wouldn't be so filled with tourists, but the weather would still be perfect for a swim. Aurora can't deny she'd been scared of rain ruining their plans, but the sun is, in fact, shining with no signs of any clouds around — which is probably also helpful to set that magic scenario around them.

And as Aurora admires the postcard worthy sight, it dawns on her that Amalfi looks exactly as she has seen in pictures. Maybe the colors aren't as bright and intense as Instagram usually made it seem, but it is still colorful. Still captivating, still mesmerizing.

Being there, she can actually smell the fresh water, the fish, and the sunscreen. She can also feel the prickle of sunburn on her arms, and the wind pulling at her dress and her hair. She can even actually hear the small waves, the boats motoring past on their way to water, and the laughter and excitement of people at the docks.

The atmosphere is real, and yet still impossible to describe. It fills her with life, with hopes, and with dreams.

It is… Surreal.

Magical.

"This is unbelievable," she finally murmurs. Her voice is soft and delicate, though — as if she doesn't want to break the spell surrounding them.

"I know," Harry says, mimicking her tone. "'S really beautiful, innit?"

She turns her head to look at him, and finds him watching the hills across from them, the same ones she was watching just minutes before. She can see him furrowing his brows under his sunglasses, his head moving from one side to the other.

"Yeah," Aurora breathes out.

Harry is beautiful. The daylight makes his skin look tanner, and the wind messes with his hair, too — although he doesn't seem to mind. And the facial hair glows on his face, somehow screaming at her how grownup he is. Somehow turning into a reminder of how good he took care of her, of how good he made her feel.

Shit.

She swallows, and faces the port again.

Can she still blame these thoughts on her lack of sleep?

Maybe she's being delusional. Maybe she is still so confused that she doesn't know what is reality or dreaming anymore. Or maybe she's spent so much time without interacting with any men that she doesn't know what's friendly or not anymore. Maybe she's mixing things up. Maybe Harry has just been protective of her. Like Theo and Niall are.

Shit.

The wind pulls her hair to her face, and she takes her arms to put her locks into an improvised knot.

Hundreds of various-sized boats are lined up along the docks, and they are all so different from each other that she realizes she's never stopped to think about their different names.

Are they boats? Are they all yachts? Is there even a difference? And what would that difference be?

"So…" she says, pausing to clear out her throat and rub the tip of her nose. "A ferry is one of those that you can get into with your car, right?"

Harry glances over his shoulder, watching her silently for a moment.

She can feel his eyes on her face, but she resists the temptation of looking at him.

And then he nods and turns around, standing next to her and facing the ocean as well. "Yeah… Have you ever been in one?"

Aurora shakes her head.

"No… I remember from the movie 'How to lose a guy in ten days'. Have you seen it?"

He turns his head and stares at her in silence once again, until a loud laugh erupts from him.

She turns her head, too, and tilts her chin up, looking at him.

"What?" she asks, lifting her left eyebrow.

"Sorry… It's just…"

He shakes his head and scratches his jaw, waiting until calming down before explaining himself.

"Oh God… You made me watch that movie soooo many times," he says, voice filled with amusement while he tilts his neck back and looks at the sky.

Aurora keeps her eyes on his shoulder, focusing on the flamingos in his shirt.

"I did?" She frowns. "I don't—When?"

"Movie nights at your place, remember?" He pulls his hair back, smiling at her, and then at the horizon. "We used to do them once a week for a month or two. Usually everyone fell asleep and we were the only ones awake. Somehow, you'd end up always making tea and putting that DVD on."

He shrugs, as if recalling that memory it's just the most common thing in the world.

To Aurora, though, it isn't.

"Wow…" She blinks, staring at the port again. "I can't… I honestly can't believe how many things you remember and I don't."

"Oh, it's okay, we were—"

"No, it's not. It makes me feel like shit."

"Auri—"

"You know I really like you, right?" she asks, focusing on the way the waves crash against one specific boat. "It's not you… I mean, I don't remember so many things, it's like I blocked stuff from my memory, but it's not because they didn't mean anything to me… I promise. I've always enjoyed our friendship, I just—"

Harry places his hand on her shoulder, and Aurora twists her neck to look at him.

"C'mon…" His sunglasses are on the top of his head now, pulling his hair back, and he stares firmly into her eyes. "I don't expect you to remember the same things I do, ok? We're fine. Everything's good. You don't need to be so tense about everything you do or say. Not around me, at least. Ok?"

"Okay…" She nods once, then twice. And then she shakes her head. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."

"Okay," he repeats, a smile forming on his lips and his hand slipping away from her shoulder.

Aurora can still feel his fingertips burning on her skin, though, and it dawns on her that, after spending the entire drive holding his hand and relaxing under his arm, now it's weird to not be able to just… Touch him again.

"And just so you know," he adds. "I've been on a ferry. A couple of times, actually."

Aurora gasps, then grins at him, gladly accepting the change of subject.

She asks when, and where, and why, and Harry chuckles. He answers while putting his sunglasses back on, then keeps the conversation going as he leads the way to the docks and to their friends.

And they walk together, of course. All the time.

There's a white arch they have to get through, and Harry raises his arm, gesturing for her to go first. She smiles shyly, looking at him over her shoulder as she steps onto the aluminum gangway.

She walks across what looks like a green carpet before getting to the actual dock — a narrow wooden path stretched out into the water and leading to all different yachts — and then they are walking side by side again.

Always side by side.

Even when they have to dodge people on the way, some simply standing and chatting, some prepping their boats for sailing, some just returning to land.

Then it gets to a point where all Aurora can see are bare masts reaching into the sky, birds flying, and ropes around their feet.

They turn left on the dock, and sweat trickles over the back of her neck, just like her inner thighs sting from brushing against each other. She sighs and scratches the tip of her nose, listening to Harry as he chats about how he stopped eating meat a while ago, but was willing to eat fish again during the weekend.

Aurora nods at him, and then the growl of an engine starting up makes her jolt and gasp. She widens her eyes and takes her hand to her chest, and Harry chuckles next to her.

She rolls her eyes and relaxes, smiling as she pokes his side with her elbow. "Shut up…"

He nods, pursing his lips and stopping himself from laughing even more.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Styles."

"Ughhh. I won't be hearing the end of this anytime soon, will I?"

"See? That's why I married you. You know me too well."

She snorts, and then Harry slows down walking.

"Ok, all jokes aside now. Aurora Fletcher, are you ready to have some fun?"

Aurora smiles.

To be fair, she's been having fun for a while now, but her body still sparkles with excitement at his words. So she moves her head quickly in agreement, just to make sure Harry can see it. "Yes, please."

"Good, because if my eyes aren't messing with me," he says, raising his arm to point out ahead of them, "I think those up there are our friends…"

Aurora looks up, tilting her chin and squinting her eyes when the sun strikes right into her line of view. Like she did before, she places the side of her hand against her eyebrows, blocking the brightness and blinking to focus where Harry seems to be pointing at.

When she recognizes the silhouette of some of their friends, she realizes they aren't just on a yacht — they are standing at the top floor of a massive, luxurious yacht.

Aurora's mouth falls open, her eyes seem to bulge out of her face, and her body freezes.

"What the hell?" she murmurs.

Or, in other words, what the hell were Lucy and Theo thinking?!

"Now I see what Niall meant about it blowing my mind," Harry says next to her. "Fuck yeah, this is gonna be great! C'mon."

His joyful and energetic voice is enough to wake Aurora up from the half-conscious state she's fallen into, but he still puts his hand in between her shoulder blades and pushes her slightly, encouraging her to move along with him.

"They're waiting for us, yeah? It's gonna be fun, but if it gets too much let me know and we'll just take a break from everyone."

Aurora blinks.

"I don't… I don't know if I'll be able to," she blurts out, not moving her feet from the spot.

Her eyes are still wide open, but she darts them up to stare at Harry.

He pulls his sunglasses back to the top of his head and takes two steps closer, standing right in front of her and letting their bags fall to his feet. His figure is tall enough to block the movements ahead from her view, allowing Aurora to focus on him, and only him.

"I mean—" She shakes her head, organizing her thoughts. "I don't know if I'll be brave enough to ask for help."

Harry nods, and a wave of understanding engulfs Aurora's body. She drops her shoulders, and her eyebrows, then lets a long breath out of her nose.

"Maybe we could come up with a sign then, yeah?" He puts his hands right above her elbows, then gently moves them up and down. Rubbing her upper arms and soothing her down.

"A sign?"

"Mhm. Just, y'know, something to let each other know we could use some company? For both of us… Maybe I'll need it, too."

Aurora chuckles and rubs her forehead, knowing damn well he won't need it.

Still, she nods.

"Maybe, okay… Yeah."

"Good. Any suggestions?"

"Hmmm… I don't know. Pinching the tip of the nose?"

"No, nuh-uh." Harry shakes his head. "You already do that a lot."

Aurora frowns. "No I don't."

"Trust me, you do." Harry tightens his fingers around her arms, then loosens them up. "Scratching our jaws? I mean, your jaw… You scratch yours, I scratch mine…"

Aurora purses her lips, and his own mouth twitches in amusement.

"You know what I mean…"

"Yeah…" Her eyes wander around his face for a moment, and she sighs. "But no, because that's something you already do a lot."

Harry turns the corner of his mouth into a smirk, and Aurora squeezes her hands into fists to stop herself from poking the dimple on his cheek.

"I do?"

She shrugs. "Mhm."

"If you say so…"

He stays put inside her eyes, capturing her inside a mesmerizing green spell and forcing her to just wait there. Powerless and helpless. With no other option but to stare back at him.

Letting time go by — letting time run by.

As if they weren't already late.

As if they weren't the last ones to arrive.

As if they didn't have a massive, overpriced yacht waiting for them.

"What about our ears, then?" he offers, his voice huskier and somehow slower.

Aurora swallows. And her stomach flutters just as much as her chest tightens.

"Y'know," he adds, then takes a step closer. "You tug yours, I tug mine…"

He moves one hand, letting go of her arm as he drifts it to her face.

He touches her cheek first, breezily, then slides to her ear, brushing her skin in the process and making it tingle.

Aurora holds her breath, and as she stares at him, she feels her earlobe being touched by two of his fingers.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again, she drifts her sight to his mouth. Unconsciously and unintentionally.

Harry slides his tongue between his lips, getting them wet before he turns them into a smirk.

"Like this," he murmurs, then gives her ear a little tug.

Shit.

Aurora looks back at him.

Everything he's doing right now feels soft, intentional, and… Extremely and weirdly right.

There's a feeling deep down her stomach that she's unable to name. Maybe a flush, maybe a tingle, or maybe a throb. Or maybe all of them.

She can't describe it, she can't understand it.

She can't name it.

But it's there, and it's doing things to her. Things she hasn't felt in a very long time.

"Hm? What do you say?" he asks, so softly it almost makes her whine.

Her heart picks up, and she doesn't think she'll be strong enough to move away from his touch. Not then, not ever again.

"Okay," she whispers. "Yes."

His smirk turns into a smile, and he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against her forehead.

It only lasts a second, and then Harry pulls away from her and hunches down to pick up their bags.

W—What?

Why…

Aurora blinks at him.

Why did he stop?

Why did he move away?

"It's settled, then," Harry says. "C'mon, let's get this party started."

Hiii :)

I thought about adding some more scenes here, but tbh I feel like these two should be together and get all the attention, so this is where part 3 officially ends. Next part it's a long one and includes meeting all of their friends, so I hope you've enjoyed their last moments by themselves hehe 🤭

Thanks for reading!

Dani

(if you've made it here, pls talk to me and say Francesco lol)

PART FOUR (I)

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

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dystopicjumpsuit · 11 months

Note

DJ!!! If it's okay, for the first kiss prompt could I humbly ask for

"are you sure about this" with our voice king, Sev?

Or!!

their hearts stopping when they hear someone's camera click (a friend catching them in the act ?) with Tup?

Whichever one inspires you more! Please and thank you 💙

A/N: Thank you so much for the ask @secondaryrealm! It was so fun to get back into the swing of writing Sev. You’ll notice that I’m incapable of writing him without mentioning his voice. Voice kink gonna voice kink. Prompt is in purple!

Pairing: Sev x Reader (GN)

Rating: T, but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 519

Warnings and tags: fluff, mentions of vomit

Summary: You do Sev a solid.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Are you sure about this?” Sev’s deep voice rumbled in your ear, sending a tingle of awareness across your neck.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Kriff, no.”

He smirked and slid his helmet into place. “Too bad.”

Without warning, he spun you around and tackled you, sending you both flying out of the LAAT/i and into the abyss as his arms clamped around your body.

You shrieked, too terrified to be embarrassed by the sound. “Oh, my gods, I’m gonna die!”

You clung to Sev, burying your face against his chestplate as you squeezed your eyes shut, clenching your jaw to try to keep from screaming again.

Sev’s low, modulated chuckle sounded through his helmet speaker. “Relax, I’ve done this hundreds of times.”

“Carrying another person?!” you demanded raggedly, still not opening your eyes.

“Uh… no,” he admitted. “That’s why we needed volunteers for the training exercise.”

Your eyes snapped open, not that it mattered, since all you could see was Sev’s armor and helmet.

“Sev,” you asked nervously, “how many times have you done this while carrying somebody?”

“This is the first. I think it’s going well.”

“I can’t believe I let Scorch talk me into this,” you groaned.

“Everyone who’s ever met Scorch has said that at some point.”

You felt your weight shift as he adjusted the flight path of his jetpack, and your stomach flip-flopped. Gods, I think I’m gonna hurl. Please, please don’t let me hurl on him, you prayed silently to the Force.

“Don’t drop me,” you begged.

“Even if I did, the tether would keep you close.” Sev seemed to sense you didn’t find that as reassuring as he thought you would, and he tightened his fingers on you briefly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

True to his word, he soon landed the pair of you safely on the ground. As he released you, your knees buckled, and he caught you just before you collapsed. He yanked off his helmet with his free hand, and you heard it thud to the ground as he tilted your head so he could see your face.

“You okay?” he asked, scanning you quickly for injuries.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said shakily. “I just need a minute.”

You willed your legs to work as you tried not to stare at his deep, gorgeous eyes or his stupid, perfect mouth that you’d been trying to ignore for months. Why does he smell so kriffing good? He has no right to smell like that.

You cleared your throat. “I, uh, think I can stand now.”

Sev didn’t loosen the arm he had wrapped around your waist, and he stroked your cheek softly with his thumb as he held your head. You gazed into each other’s eyes, as though suspended in time, and then he closed the distance between you as his lips met yours. His lips felt exactly as soft and stupidly perfect as you’d imagined, and you sucked in a tiny, broken gasp when the kiss ended far too soon.

“Wow,” you sighed. “I’m so glad I didn’t hurl on you.”

---

Looking for spicy Sev x reader fics? Allow me to plug my incredibly spicy fic, “Turn It Up When You’re Gone” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3. The fourth and final chapter will be dropping next month!

#rc 1207 #republic commando sev #delta squad #repcomm #republic commando #sev x reader #star wars #clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #dystopicjumpsuit writes #ask fic

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gravitycavity · 3 days

Text

[Preview] Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 8

Faintly, Ragatha lifted her head. The will to fight faded in her eyes, as though she knew that the frigid despair pumping from her ruptured heart was unstoppable; only a scant few places — the bottoms of her flat Mary Janes, the stitched tips of her simplified hands, and half of her cherubic face — remained un-abstracted.

Still, she spoke through the pain. “I…love you so much, my Sunshine,” she croaked, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. The weakened grimace upon her face shied away from two tearful eyes. “I’m so, so sorry our story had to end this way…”

“H-Hey! Don’t talk like that!” scolded Pomni between haggard breaths, “It’s not over yet! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Maybe,” Ragatha choked out, her worn-out voice shattered to pieces. “Whatever happens, Pomni, I want you to know — you are everything. Just everything. My whole wide world. And you always will be,” she said. Pearly tears glistened down the soft curves of her cheeks. “No matter what comes next, I’ll never forget the time we spent together. I just wish I could have learned your real name. Or brushed my thumbs across your real cheeks, or rested my head on your real shoulders…”

“You will! I promise you will!” Pomni said, a frog in her throat. Her fierce gaze, wet with tears, fixed on the crooked elevator doors down the hall. She was nearly there. A stone’s throw away. Nearly to the end of this horrendous nightmare. “We’re going to get out of this stupid game together, no matter how long it takes us! We’ll find each other in the real world, no matter how far we have to travel, because…” Pomni shakily swallowed, “Because I love you! I love you, Ragatha, more than anything else in this stupid world!”

Ragatha smiled, despite everything. “Sunshine…?” she breathed. The creaking of floorboards beneath Pomni’s feet — and a distant, monstrous groan down the hall — filled in the pregnant pause before the dolly found the strength to speak again, “Humor me?”

Pomni’s brows squinched together. Humor her? What was Ragatha talking about? “H-Huh?”

“Do you…do you still remember the color of your eyes…?”

“Uh—” Pomni’s head flinched slightly. Ragatha’s question wasn’t unusual — but decidedly out-of-the-blue. Her eyes. What color were her eyes? The gut response of ‘ I don’t know’ or ‘why do you ask’ waited impatiently on the tip of her tongue, and yet, Pomni knew in her heart that that wouldn’t do.

“I, um—” Pomni glanced down. Ragatha stared back, black abstraction spreading across a patient, yet expectant look. “That’s a good question…”

It had been ages since Pomni had given herself more than a passing glance in her toothpaste-flecked bathroom mirror, let alone looked away from her big, ugly blemishes long enough to notice such a trivial detail. She could barely even recall the last time anyone had brought up the color of her eyes. Sometime back in the ‘00s, she figured — when life was simple, and she was old enough to count her age on just two hands.

In truth, she was only half-sure, but she couldn’t leave Ragatha hanging. Pomni chewed on the answer a little while longer before finally spitting it out: “Uh. J-Just brown. I think,” she huffed, squinting at her destination. She was close enough now to make out the distinct “C&A” etched above the elevator door, “Nothing too special.”

“Brown…” Ragatha swooned, “...such a charming color. Copper pans, Autumn leaves, fancy leather couches…” she cooed, wearing a peaceful smile even as strands of abstraction stretched across her mouth, “...I can almost see them now. Goodness gracious, how beautiful they are…”

- - -

New chapter soon! Promise!

#pomni x ragatha #buttonblossom #ragapom #ragatha x pomni #jesterdoll #tadc fanfiction #tadc #fanfic #lesbian

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katelynnwrites · 2 years

Text

Can You Keep Me Close? (Can You Love Me Most?) | Ona Batlle

warnings: smut, skip the first part of the fic if you’re uncomfortable with that

word count: 3430

summary: all you want is for someone to stay, keep you close and love you most. will ona be able to do so for you again?

chosen song: someone to stay by vancouver sleep clinic

a/n: chapter 5/6 of you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time), includes this request

Ona gasps into your mouth, her hands reaching for your waist.

This kiss isn’t at all like your first kiss.

It’s desperate, full of emotion and messy. You can taste the salt of Ona’s tears and you’re sure she can taste yours.

‘What does this mean?’ Ona breathes, putting her hands on your chest to stop you from connecting your lips a second time.

Her chocolate brown eyes are shining, breathing uneven as she trembles slightly.

You use your thumb to carefully brush away a tear that escapes from her eye.

‘We can talk more later but right now will you show me that you want me? Please Ona.’ You whisper, the weight of your request hanging in the tiny space between the both of you.

‘I can do that.’ Ona murmurs, nodding her head slightly.

The Spanish woman kisses you carefully, slowly walking you backwards towards your bed, where she sits you down.

Her hands slip under your hoodie, the gentle touch of her fingers on your skin making goosebumps form.

Ona feels them and smiles, heart clenching as she realises the effect she still has on you.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ She hums, tilting your head so that she can place a kiss onto the sensitive spot you have there.

The combined effect of her demonstrating that she still knew your body and her lips on that particular place makes you shiver.

‘Ona...’ You moan when she begins sucking gently.

Ona moans herself, your moan of her name sounding like heaven to her ears. She didn’t think she’d ever hear it again.

She keeps up her suction for a few more seconds before pulling away and seeking your permission to tug your hoodie off.

You shrug the material off immediately and Ona is quick to begin mapping your skin with her lips.

‘Y-you can leave marks if you like.’ You stammer shakily.

Ona groans at that, finding your collarbone and eagerly getting to work.

******

The first hickey sixteen year old Ona gives you is a complete accident. Making out with you had felt so good that she had gotten carried away.

She’s nervous and apologetic about it, completely freaked out by the bruise she’d marred your skin with.

Unlike her, you’re quite calm about her hickey, simply admiring it in the mirror (you loved how it looked on you).

Ona’s still flustered by the time you turn around to look back at her and that makes you laugh.

‘Don’t worry about it Oni. I think it looks great.’

‘Y-you do?’

‘Mhm. I do however, think it’s only fair that I’m allowed to give you one too.’

Your girlfriend becomes even more flustered by your response (her red cheeks are adorable you think).

Eventually she settles on a shy, ‘Only if you want to.’

Grinning, you’re fast to carefully tilt her neck to get better access. A gentle suction is started moments after you press a few kisses there.

Ona’s knees nearly buckle and her blush darkens.

As you continue with your rather enjoyable task, she lets out a moan and a strained, ‘Te amo.’

******

She leaves a red mark on your collarbone that you know will darken in a matter of hours.

The same treatment is given to your other collarbone before Ona moves on to trace what she can see of your breasts with her forefinger.

‘Off?’ You question and Ona nods (very eagerly you might add).

You acquiesce, lifting your arms so that Ona can take off your bra.

Her eyes immediately drop down, staring at your boobs in a way that would have made you self conscious if you hadn’t already known that she would do that (the first time Ona saw them you thought she was going to combust).

******

‘C-can I touch them-you?’ Ona stutters, unable to look away.

‘Amor, I change in front of you all the time. You’ve seen me in my underwear.’ You tease but Ona flushes and whines, ‘It’s not the same.’

You laugh and decide to put her out of her misery.

‘Go on Oni.’

Your sixteen year old girlfriend doesn’t need to be told twice.

******

Ona moans, as she cups your breasts. Her fingers brush over your nipples, making them stiffen almost immediately.

The fullback rolls them between her thumb and forefinger, alternating between that particular movement and gentle pinching.

‘Ona por favor.’ You plead, needing more.

You’re squeezing your thighs together, wanting Ona to give you something, anything to relieve that ache.

‘What do you need? Talk to me baby.’

‘Please. I need more.’ (‘i need you’ is left unsaid).

Ona kisses you passionately, pressing you onto your back as she straddles you.

‘Better?’

‘Sí.’

The Spanish woman leaves a trail of kisses as she moves down your body, only stopping when she reaches the waistband of your shorts.

She slips a hand underneath them, fingers seeking the wet spot on your underwear.

Ona finds it easily, pressing down and making your hips buck.

‘You’re so wet.’ Ona breathes.

‘You still get so wet for me.’

‘Always Ona.’ You admit, raising yourself on your elbows so that you can see her better.

Her eyes are wide and slightly teary so she hides that by removing your shorts and underwear.

Ona presses a kiss onto your pussy, splaying her hand onto your stomach to keep you still.

It’s much needed when she sucks your clit into her mouth, tongue swirling around it.

You cry out and Ona begins in earnest, trying to give you as much pleasure as she can.

‘You taste amazing amor.’

She pushes your legs further apart, spreading your folds and making you moan incoherently as she licks.

Your hand reaches down to tangle in Ona’s hair, tugging on it and making her hum against your soaking core.

The vibrations make your hip jerk uncontrollably and Ona laughs.

‘Sensitive Ona! Too sensitive.’

‘Lo siento.’ She whispers, giving you a little kiss on your swollen clit in apology, even as she smiles.

Ona’s touch is both reassuring and generous, intrinsically attuned to drawing out your pleasure.

And she does, making you let out a sharp cry of her name as you come onto her tongue.

The Spaniard grins, loving how still responded so beautifully to her affections.

She gives you a minute to recover, taking your hand in hers and kissing you on your fingers as you try and get your breathing to even out.

You pant, trying to sit up so that you can kiss Ona.

She makes the task easier for you, pulling you up in one swift motion.

Covering your hand in hers, you kiss her, pouring all your emotions into it.

How much you missed her, your longing for her, these past few years.

Ona responds in like, surging forward and kissing you back.

The kiss is as intimate as it is deep. It’s soft and steady, the gentle pressure of Ona’s lips on yours building a warm feeling in your middle.

‘Ona. Amor.’ (it just slips out, you don’t notice it but she does).

You lean your forehead against hers with closed eyes and she exhales weakly.

‘Oni.’ You mumble, tugging on her shirt.

She gets the hint, leaning back and pulling it off.

You put your hands on her waist, squeezing lightly as you pepper her chest with kisses.

She has new freckles from her time back in Barcelona and you want to explore all of them.

‘Baby.’ Ona’s moan is high pitched and she hurriedly reaches around to unlatch her bra.

Giggling at her enthusiasm, you knead one of her breasts in your palm.

Covering her other nipple with your mouth, you bite it very lightly, remembering how much it used to turn her on.

Your initiative is rewarded with a loud gasp from the fullback.

‘I-If you keep that up I’m going to come.’ Her voice is tight, her body practically shaking as she focuses on withholding her orgasm.

‘It’s okay. You can come whenever you need to.’ You reassure her but she shakes her head, tucking her face into your neck.

‘Don’t want this to end. I’m not ready.’ She softly admits.

‘Onita, please just let me help you come and then we’ll talk okay?’

‘Okay.’ Her voice is small but she stops hiding her face and kisses your cheek.

‘Fingers or tongue Oni?’

‘Whichever you want.’

‘Onita please.’ You murmur, intentionally using the nicknames to show your affection to her.

It works and Ona concedes, ‘Fingers…’

‘I miss the way you feel inside me.’ She shyly admits a half second later.

‘I missed it too.’ You admit, making the brunette smile and kick off her underwear and leggings.

Repositioning so that both you and Ona are more comfortable, you carefully stroke her arousal swollen bud.

‘You’re so gorgeous. Hermosa, you’ve always made me weak in my knees.’

Ona blushes furiously at your sentiment and you laugh, using your fingers to spread her open.

She cherishes it, willing herself to commit the sound to her memory because there had been long nights when she’d feared she’d never get to hear your laugh again.

She shivers in anticipation but as you begin to push your finger in, she grabs your wrist.

‘I haven’t done this in years. You’re the only one I’ve ever had sex with.’

Her brown eyes are tear filled, exposing how vulnerable she’s feeling.

You decide that if you want things to work out between the both of you, you need to be honest as well.

‘It’s the same for me Ona. I’ll go slow I promise.’

******

The first time you and Ona give yourselves to each other at eighteen, is beautiful.

It’s not the best sex you’ve ever had (the two of you improve much more over the years) but it’s the most special.

It’s slow, cautious and messy (curious as well), the both of you learning about and exploring each other’s bodies.

You didn’t think you would have another moment quite like it but the moment you and Ona find yourselves again, nearly ten years later tops it.

It’s familiar, having sex with each other but it’s made so much more intimate by the way the both of you were intent on relearning each other’s bodies.

******

She’s tense as you slide your index finger into her.

With how wet she is, you know you can easily add another but you gently thrust that one finger in and out of her until she gives you the okay to add a second.

Her eyes slip close, breathing growing stuttered as you alternate between smooth, deep strokes and rougher, shallower ones.

‘Bebé.’ She moans as her walls flutter around your fingers.

Ona makes a desperate grab for your free hand, squeezing it tightly and whimpering.

You start to curl your fingers with every thrust and Ona’s back arches with pleasure.

She doesn’t stop herself from letting you hear and see the effect you have on her, her moans of your name increasing in frequency and volume.

You don’t think she can stop herself and even if she did, you would know how much you aroused her from the copious amounts of her juices between her thighs.

When Ona finally allows herself to reach her high and spill her release, she muffles her moans with her arm.

The tears the both of you had been withholding break free and you find yourself clinging to Ona for comfort.

She doesn’t turn you away as you’d half feared she would, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close instead.

‘I’m here amor. I promise I’m always going to be here from now on.’

******

You soak in as much time as you can in Ona’s arms before you break the silence regretfully.

Lying with your head resting on Ona’s bare chest, listening to her heartbeat as her fingers comb through your hair, you hated to end the moment.

‘Ona, we should talk now.’ You whisper and she nods, extricating herself from behind you and passing you your hoodie before wearing her own.

She resettles herself opposite you, eyeing you with more than some trepidation.

‘Ona?

‘Yes?’

‘You wrote me letters on my birthday. You didn’t forget about me?’

Ona lets out a mirthless laugh, ‘How could I? You are my world. Just because I made an awful decision doesn’t mean that that changed. You are always going to be my world, even when we’re apart.’

‘Oh.’

Inhaling and exhaling as you fiddle with a loose thread on your shirt, you look back up at her and softly say, ‘I never forgot about you either. Do you want to know what I did on your birthdays?’

‘Yeah.’ Ona breathes, the revelation that you had thought about her too making her heart skip a beat.

******

All your United teammates knew not to disturb you on Ona’s birthday.

The first year Millie was the one the rest of the team sent to try and comfort you (they had all wanted to come but you had a tendency to be overwhelmed). The English woman had tried but you had shut yourself off and refused to open your door.

You had stayed inside, with the chocolate cupcake you bought from yours and Ona’s favourite cafe.

Chocolate was Ona’s favourite flavour.

Sitting on your bed, you would blow out a little candle on the cupcake at midnight, whispering a tiny broken, ‘Feliz cumpleanõs Ona.’

It became your tradition, every year your teammates would leave you alone (it wasn’t like they weren’t there for you, each and every one of them would text you a short message, just to check in. but they knew you preferred it this way. you needed to grieve and this was your way of doing it) and every year you would buy a chocolate cupcake and a candle to celebrate Ona’s birthday on your own.

******

‘You did that? Every year?’ Ona’s voice is shaky, tears forming in her eyes as she takes in this new piece of information.

‘Yeah…’

Ona buries her face in her hands and sobs quietly.

‘Lo siento. Lo siento mucho.’ She mumbles.

‘I know you are. But is that enough Ona? You didn’t come back for me for years. I stayed here all this time because some little part of me always thought you would come back. I had plans…I had plans for us. You made me feel important and then you tried to erase us. Years of loving you and even after you broke my heart, it showed! When I got my ribs fractured last year, I asked for you. In the hospital, Millie told me that the first words I said after coming out of sedation were your name and how I wanted you.’

Ona’s breath hitches and to your surprise, she nods.

‘I know. And I came.’

‘Y-you did?’

The fullback inclines her head slightly.

‘I did. Ivana called and told me what Millie had told her. Even though I was supposed to play that day, I was on a plane out immediately. I came to your hospital room.’

Shaking your head in confusion you tell her, ‘I don’t remember. I’m sure I didn’t see you Ona.’

‘I know. It was late and you were sleeping. I could not stop myself from holding your hand. You looked so small, so fragile in that bed. I stayed with you that night, never once letting go of your hand. In that awful plastic chair, I sat with you the whole night. I couldn’t sleep, I just sat and watched your chest rise and fall with every breath.’

‘Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you wake me at least?’ You desperately ask.

‘You needed your rest and I could lie and say I was scared of breaking you further while you were already broken but really I wasn’t brave enough.’

Ona swallows hard, eyes dropping to the duvet.

‘I left when the sun started to rise. I kissed you on your forehead, told you I loved you and promised I’d be back before catching the first flight back to Barcelona.’

‘Those flowers…it was you.’

You remember now, the bouquet of daisies that had no name and no card. Daisies are your favourite and you didn’t think anyone else knew it (nobody knew other than Ona and that should have really clued you in, an entire year ago).

‘Yeah…’

You don’t know what to say, simply staring at the brunette.

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot for you to process.’ Ona picks at her fingernails, refusing to meet your eyes.

‘You were scared?’

You know that she knows you’re not asking about the last time she was in Manchester but rather the time before that.

Ona looks up with a tiny melancholic smile, ‘I was terrified. I’d wake up in the night just to make sure you were still in bed with me. When I slept on the couch, I would come back in to sit on the edge of the bed and watch you sleep. It was the night you were crying as you slept that I couldn’t-I just knew that I had gone too far. I was hurting you even in your sleep.’

‘I-I didn’t know. Was that the night before you left?’

‘Yes.’

You blink back tears, eyes darting all around the room in an effort to just not look at her.

Ona sighs and reaches for your hands.

‘Our love, my love for you was so big and that scared me. What scares me even more is that that love has only become bigger. It’s bigger than the whole sky.’

The tears that you had tried so hard to hold back fall then (you were getting really tired of crying).

‘But you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, what you were going through. That hurts even more than you rejecting my proposal.’

Exhaling slowly, you continue, ‘I thought that was something we had worked towards. We had discussed it multiple times over the years and we agreed that marriage was something that we both wanted. I thought we were at that point in our relationship that we were ready for the next step. Finding out that you didn’t trust me enough to talk about your issues is heartbreaking. Ona I thought we trusted each other, I don’t know when that changed for you.’

‘That’s exactly it, nothing changed. I trusted you, I trust you still. I just thought that they were my issues and I had to solve them alone.’ She admits defeatedly.

‘Ona…’ You soften and reach out for her hand.

She lets you squeeze it, sucking in a deep steadying breath.

‘I would have been happy for you to share what you were going through. I would have helped you. You have never been a burden to me Onita.’

‘I know. I really am sorry amor. I have caused you so much pain and that’s why I don’t understand why you’re treating me so well.’

‘Is that why you got so angry at me today? Because you didn’t understand?

The fullback looks ashamed of herself as she nods.

‘I saw that you took away all our photos. Every photo that I was in, you took down. I understand why you did, it showed how angry and hurt you were after the break up. You were in agony amor and yet you’re still more than nice to me.’

‘Ona. I-’

‘You don’t owe me an explanation.’

You sigh, moving and adjusting yourself so that you’re in her arms.

The brunette absentmindedly drops a kiss onto your head and you sigh again.

It’s so comforting being back with Ona, breathing in her unique scent and listening to her steady heartbeat that you begin to find your eyes slipping close.

The former Manchester United player must think you’re asleep after a while because she brushes feather light kisses onto the expanse of whatever exposed skin she can reach.

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’ She whispers as she does so.

‘Please believe me when I say I’m sorry. And that I love you.’

You press yourself closer to her (her body still fit perfectly against yours).

‘I believe you. And I love you too.’

Ona gasps softly, kissing your forehead adoringly.

In that moment, she makes a silent vow that she’s going to do whatever she can to be good enough for you.

A sleepy smile forms on your face as Ona rubs soothing circles onto your back.

That’s how you fall asleep, resting in the arms of someone who loved you, someone who wanted you enough to come back for you.

Spanish Translations:

te amo - i love you

por favor - please

sí - yes

amor - love

lo siento- i’m sorry

hermosa - beautiful

bebé - baby

feliz cumpleaños - happy birthday

lo siento mucho - i’m so sorry

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angelofchaos001 · 23 days

Text

Stranded in the Rain - Chapter 3

Link to Ao3

Link to Masterpost

Previous (Adapting) | Next (Monsters)

Chapter 3 - Survivor

The last thing Hatchling expected to see when they awoke was another creature. And yet, that was exactly what lay before them, breathing deeply, if a bit shakily. It was a little smaller than they were, with an off-white color to their whole body and a general thickness about it. Moissan could clearly make out a tail curled around them, but the creature wasn't at ease.

For starters, it was soaked. There was a puddle of water around it, and there was still more dripping off of it's extremities. Secondly, hatchling could see stones, grass, and other miscellaneous objects tangled with it. Lastly, and most concerning, there were huge gashes ripped across it's tail that still oozed fresh blood, mixing with the water and staining it red.

Hatchling didn't know what to do. The doors to the room were still closed, and this creature was just . . . here. Bleeding in front of them, perhaps asleep, and perhaps not. If it felt threatened and attacked them, things could get ugly. Fast. How had it gotten in here with them? When? More questions Hatchling didn't have the answers to.

It felt odd, being in such a small space with an unidentified species nearby. Curiosity begged Hatchling to write everything they noticed about it down, right now, but self-preservation told them better. They had wounds of their own that needed addressing, after all. Moissan looked at themselves. Why didn't they feel any pain? Realistically, they should have felt something, even if it was uncomfortable. They'd hit the ground hard enough to crack their helmet, which was more than enough force required to likely crack their bones as well. Plus, their left hand didn't seem to be working quite right.

One thing at a time, Moissan, Hatchling told themselves as they took a deep breath. They rolled up their sleeves to get a look at their arms, and sucked in a gasp when they saw their hand. They'd seen a lot of things that weren't normal lately. But they were still pretty sure that it wasn't a good sign for their thumb when they could hardly move it. Hatchling could feel how wrong it was, how there was definitely a bone that didn't line up right. And at the slightest touch, pain shot through their body, catching up to them no matter how far away it seemed.

Moissan gasped and fell to their knees. How much else were they missing? Now that their body seemed to register pain again, everything was aching and sore from being slammed around so much yesterday. Aside from their hand, the other major spots of pain were along their cheek and in their leg. Carefully reaching up, their fingers traced a thin wound just under their eyes. As gentle as the touch was, it still made Hatchling flinch. Their leg was less serious, without any kind of visible wound. Rather, there was a large bruise across their shin that gave a dull throb of pain with their heartbeat.

Any kind of medical supplies they had were limited. They hardly had the things to treat a broken bone, anyway. It was all things for cuts and scrapes, like the one on their face. In their bag, they had things like disinfectant, bandages, gauzes and all sorts of strange herbs that Quartz (the village healer) had been insisting the travelers take with them. Let's see here . . . they thought, digging through supplies. All they needed was something to patch up their cheek and stabilize their finger. Luckily, they did have small coverings that they could bandage their cut with, and enough rolls of tissue to hold their finger in place if they had some kind of straight stick to tie it to.

Sadly, as they kept looking, nothing suitable crossed their eyes for such a purpose. Everything was either too big or not straight enough to help set a finger. Moissan sighed and sat back, leaning on the wall, before jumping up with a gasp as something stabbed their back. Reaching around, they pulled a small stick from the fabric of their suit. It was small, and almost straight, too.

It'll do, I guess, they thought, looking at it, then at their broken thumb. Carefully, they took the stick and some bandages, and began to wrap the two together tightly. It just needed to hold itself together, and then they would need to be gentle with their hand so they didn't agitate the wound. It sounded like a simple enough plan. Granted, exploring space had also sounded simple enough.

Look how that turned out.

As they worked on wrapping their thumb, and eventually got the bandage tied in a way they were content with, Hatchling couldn't help but glance at the creature next to them. Most of the water had already dripped off and pooled around it now, rippling slowly with every staggered breath it took. Blood still tricked through the dirty white fur, the ugly wounds that ran the entire length of it's tail making them hurt for the poor creature.

Hatchling knew they had limited medical supplies. They should save what they had for themselves. They didn't know what they were dealing with. What they would be messing with if they did what they were thinking.

But seeing something so helpless and in pain made Moissan feel for it. It felt like they couldn't just leave them alone - not when they were this close and had the supplies to make the small creature (hopefully) feel better. With a deep breath, they reached into their bag again and pulled out what they thought they might need. If Quartz labeled these correctly, then I just need these leaves, the bandages, and these seeds. They took a moment to study the plants they grabbed, laid the supplies they'd grabbed neatly in front of them, and scooted over to the curled-up creature.

Now closer to it, Hatchling realized that it wasn't really much smaller than they were. It was mostly tail, with the thick appendage seemingly more than half their body. A pair of ears were flattened against a rounded head, trembling ever so slight and twitching randomly. They couldn't see any arms or legs, but at the very least, the creature was alive. Where do I start with it? they thought, looking back at their supplies, then at the creature.

Eventually, after browsing between options, Hatchling took some of the leaves they'd grabbed and carefully laid them across the most severe gash. Angler's Bush was good for helping to clot blood, for a lot of scientific reasons that they did not pay nearly enough attention to in class. All that mattered was that it could help the creature in it's time of need. As Hatchling lightly pressed the leaves into the open wounds, the creature gave a violent twitch and a small whine.

They flinched, leaning back, bracing themselves for it to wake up and run away or try to hurt them. As moments passed and it seemed to settle back down, though, Moissan breathed a sigh of relief, realizing it had never woken up. Carefully, they went back to covering the other tears in leaves, brushing their gloved hands across the creature as they did. Small, coarse fur met them, and as Hatchling pulled their hand away, it had a strange kind of film at the edges.

Hatchling paused, staring. It wasn't sticky, but rather already seemed to be flowing down their hand and stopping after it had traveled about the length of the finger. Was the creature both slimy and furry? Both textures were foreign to them. The Nomai had been depicted as having fur, but that didn't mean they'd ever touched or seen it for themselves. And the fish they sometimes ate had a protective slime to them, but nothing like this. In any case, why would it have both features?

The last of the gashes were covered just as Moissan used the last leaf from the plant. That took much more than I thought, they realized. They only had three plants' worth of leaves on them, along with the powder of . . . stuff that could be mixed into water for a beneficial drink. All they remembered was in it was the roots of the plant, a few of the Redbulb seeds, and cinnamon.

Being distracted in their thoughts, they turned back to the creature and grabbed their bandages. All they needed to do was wrap them neatly, and everything would be okay.

A sudden idea struck Hatchling, and they dropped the roll, grabbing their bag again. They'd almost forgotten. Such large wounds, being left open for presumably quite some time, would surely harbor infection if they wrapped it now. Come on, please say Quartz packed some Rippleleaf in here . . . the plant was known for being vital in warding off such infections. Without it, there were dozens of stories about horrible injuries that came from the disease-ridden wound. Sometimes, it would have to be removed entirely.

Finally, their fingers closed around the leaves they needed, and Hatchling took up the bandages again. This time, though, they carefully laid some bits of the new leaf right beneath the area they were about to wrap. There was no flinching from the creature as they carefully worked, wrapping around the tail and laying leaves as they went. Every now and then, they'd stop and tie off the bandage where they were or reach for another leaf.

Halfway through, Moissan looked at the head of the creature again. It's closed eyes were trembling, shifting uneasily. They could only see two closed slits, but surely it had more somewhere on that face . . .

The roll slipped from their hands and made a soft sound as it hit the mossy ground. Hatchling gasped and picked it up again, gingerly. Gotta focus more. No distractions. Just finish this, and then I can make all the observations I want about this thing.

Loop after loop, they kept winding it around and around the wounds. They were almost to the end now, and with a quick tear into the roll and a tie, the large gashes were now hidden below a layer of leaves and fabric. Hatchling moved back a little, looking at their work. It wasn't perfect, by any means, and in some places the bandages were already wet or bloody. "I hope that helps it sleep easier," they murmured, packing up their supplies again.

The small tunnel they'd left through last time still wasn't open. The only sound in the room was of softly dripping water, and their breathing combining with the unknown creature beside them. With the time they had, Hatchling figured more notes were finally in order. Skipping past the Starbug page, they looked down at the blank paper, and then at the curled-up body.

"About the same size as I am. Furry and slimy, I think. Seems to sleep heavily. Proportionally, it's mostly tail, with a small head and ears. I still can't see if it has any other limbs." They paused to look for any other obvious things to write down. "Ah, I know. Treatment of wounds seemed effective. It sleeps much easier now."

But with the notes all written out, as much as they could, there was still the task of drawing the specimen. Hatchling leaned on the wall and got comfortable, picking up their pencil and slowly sketching line after line. Each curve was checked on the actual creature, trying to nail the unique body shape it had. As they started on that large tail, they hesitated. Should they add the bandages? Try to draw it with the gashes from memory? Draw it blank?

They settled for drawing it as it was now: Healed up.

Moissan let themselves become lost in the drawing, trying to perfect every little line, each individual leaf and blotch of mud tangled in the creature's fur, so of course they hardly noticed when it shuffled around.

When it got up.

And looked at them.

They only noticed when suddenly, the creature had walked over to Hatchling and placed a paw on their leg, prompting them to look over. Oh my stars. It's touching me. What do I do? Is it telling me something? Is this a gesture of friendship? What's it doing? Questions blazed through their mind, and they just . . . stared back at it. Into those wide, endless black eyes that seemed so blank to them.

"Wa?" it asked, making a small sound. It was some mix of a chirp and a meow, but it wasn't identifiable by any means. Hatchling blinked.

"Um . . . hi?" they asked, waving their hand slightly. Could it understand them? Maybe. Hopefully.

But the creature shuffled around and blinked back at Hatchling. "Hrrrrrrrp. Wawa?"

They sighed. "I'm sorry, little guy, I . . . can't understand anything you're saying."

It didn't seem to like like, narrowing it's eyes and snorting. "HRRRP." Whatever it was trying to say, it was being awfully firm about it. "Hrrrrple mrrrr."

"Can you understand me at all?"

Those wide black eyes blinked back, full of not understanding a word Hatchling said. They felt crushed, even though they really should have expected this. Of course it wouldn't be able to understand them. That was too much to hope for, anyway. Still. Body language could be almost universal, if Moissan tried hard enough. Slowly, they reached out towards the creature's tail and pointed at it. "Hey. This was me. I helped you. Okay?"

It hissed and pulled it's tail away just as Hatchling showed the roll of bandages it had used. The creature paused, looking between the roll, hatchling, and it's own tail before nodding slowly, hostility seeming to fade. They allowed themselves to smile at the small creature, which purred and pointed to itself eagerly. Then, it seemed to wave it's arms about aimlessly, flailing it's small paws everywhere. Moissan stifled a giggle, before snickering at it's antics.

"Heh . . . I'm sorry," they offered, reaching out their hand to pat the creature. It accepted, leaning into their hand eagerly. "I need a name for you. Something that really fits. Got any ideas, little guy?"

It simply stared back, leaning into the soft chin scratches Hatchling found themselves giving. It felt strangely nice, to be here. Petting this unknown creature and bringing it a moment of peace in whatever life it was living. What could I call it? There's gotta be something . . .

An urge inside of Hatchling tugged at their mind. This creature was so much more than a new specimen to study. They couldn't explain why, or how, but it felt too important to be given a basic name and left at just that. This particular individual needed a name just for them. But what was the perfect name to give them?

The creature suddenly forced it's way into Hatchling's lap with it's fur that was still both cold and wet, dampening their notebook. "Hey!" They cried, a little playfully, continuing to stroke the fur of the being, "C'mon, at least give me some warning before you do that! Clingy little fellow."

I could name it like it's a true friend of mine, maybe. Like it was another Hearthian. The idea of naming it like that made Moissan feel warm inside. Like they could carry a piece of home with them no matter what. But what would be a good, fitting name?

"Guess I can just start listing some aloud and seeing what you think, little guy," they murmured, continuing to pet it. The creature gave a contented purring noise, curling up almost entirely in Hatchling's lap so that they could no longer see the arms and legs they'd noticed earlier. Their entire tail still stuck out, not at all in their lap, but that was fine. This was pleasant.

Right. Naming.

"What about Dolo?" they asked, thinking. Even if the creature didn't know what they were saying, perhaps it found comfort in a particular noise Hatchling's voice made. The same way they were quickly growing fond of the loud humming noise it made. But it made no reaction at all.

Onto the next idea.

"Marble, maybe?"

The creature scrunched up and shook it's ears out. Definitely not that one, then.

"Hm . . . Hecato? I could call you Cat for short, hehe!" Hatchling smiled, but the creature didn't move at all. "Alright, bad joke, I guess. Last one."

They thought long and hard about it. A name was an important thing. It would be how Hatchling would remember this small, friendly creature who they'd helped out in this situation.

"How about Pearl?"

At the mention, the creature's ears perked and it chirped quietly. "I guess that means you like that one?"

"Rrrlp! Rrrrlp!"

It lifted it's head and gave a small, sharp-toothed smile. Hatchling grinned at them and pulled their hand away. "Pearl it is, then. I hope you and I will get along. Maybe you can show me what to do in this place."

Is this creature my fate? Did the universe entwine our stories together? Or is this all chance, a path of my own making?

No matter what, they swore they would never let anything happen to this creature. As the room began to shake and the metal was being pulled aside from the tunnel, Moissan let themselves breathe. Today is a new day. And I'll be ready for it.

"Come on, Pearl," they breathed, taking the small creature's paw as they slid through the tunnel and back into the rain-soaked world.

-----

Bonus art for this chapter!

Made it partially digital bc I didn't wanna fully digitize it but some of the lines were too faint and/or too messy for the camera.

@mellow-mooon

@0silverbluedragon1

@corn-worshipper

@doodlebug091

@isnt-that-grape

@fishbone5

@dragonpurplecristal

@obsidianmage3

#outer wilds #outer wilds spoilers #rain world #rw #rain world spoilers #rw spoilers #outer wilds au #rain world au #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover au #outer wilds hatchling #rain world survivor #outer wilds art #rain world art

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beesmygod · 26 days

Text

"A GHOST STORY" IS A WEBCOMIC I MAKE THAT I WILL BE RE-POSTING, GRADUALLY.

the top row is from 2013, the bottom row is from the 2018 re-draw. these pages are from 2020 (the re-draw took a long time).

obviously she has the bruise steak for bruise after you get blood drawn. its called thinking ahead, dumbass. im 90% sure i got the concept of using a steak for bruises from TV or movies or something, which is where maxine would have picked it up as well. don't do this at home unless you want pink eye or some shit. get an ice pack.

the writing is significantly better in the re-write, i think. "atropa belladona" is greek and italian, not latin lol. she's wrong on both accounts. i don't think jack would have been wrong to assume the dark berries in maxine's fridge were for eating and not for killing things.

splitting the original page into two was a good idea also. way too much info in those pages. [shakily gives a thumbs up] its better

---

♥ read the comic: A Ghost Story ♥ support the comic for as little as $1 a month on Patreon ♥ donate on kofi ♥ pay what you want for the re-draw of the first chapter on itch.io

you can block the tag "#AGS repost" to keep this off your dash

#ags repost

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writemywaytoyourheart · 2 years

Text

Bedeviled | Chapter 1: A Deal with the Devil

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, horror, drama, angst

WC: 4.4k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, brief mention of alcohol, manipulation, jk is hot but a pos...that's all I think, enjoy!

"And what will you give me?"

The man on his knees trembles, his hands clasped as he tries to contain his tears long enough to speak.

"Please, please, I- I'll give you anything, just please save-"

"Anything?"

The man nods frantically, bowing his head, "Whatever you wa-"

"How about your soul?"

"M-my soul?"

A simple nod in reply, nothing else.

No negotiations.

The poor man gulps and nods shakily, "Ok."

A smirk spreads on the demon's face as he crosses his arms, the tattoo of a dead rose being strangled by a serpent on his outer bicep stretching as he does, "Looks like we have a deal."

A piece of the roof dangles tauntingly above them, threatening to fall at any second, the rest of the small shack fairing no better.

The fallen angel lounging in the torn black leather recliner chuckles, shrugging, "Not my problem you suck at the one thing you're supposed to be good at."

"Shut the fuck up, JK."

Long dark hair falling into his eyes, the amused demon shakes his head.

He's jerked up though in the next second when the enraged blonde grabs a handful of his shirt and is about to throw a punch.

Before he can, the dark-haired devil grabs his wrist and twists it enough to where it would break, if that was possible, "I would think twice before doing that, Sav," he whispers calmly.

Sav just glares at him before ripping his hand away, "Just fucking wait."

Standing up, JK stretches his arms above his head, groaning loudly as he twists his back until there's a satisfying crack.

"I've got work to do," he drops the glass bottle that's been dangling from his hand for the past hour, no more liquor in it anyway.

He ignores whatever words Sav shouts after him, walking out of the shed as he jerks his head to the side roughly until his neck cracks.

As he's walking, the faint sound of whispering echoes in his mind, the words he knows all too well repeating over and over again. A smirk spreads on his face as he rolls his eyes.

"Hey, doll."

The girl on her knees fumbling with the matches gasps loudly as she turns, the match box slipping from her fingers.

"Who are you?" Her voice shakes as she stands up.

The handsome stranger hops off of the fence he was previously perched on, the seductive smile on his face growing larger the closer he gets to her quivering figure.

"Don't you know? You’re the one that summoned me.."

She gulps, "Are you a...d-demon?"

He walks even closer, taking her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "I can be whatever you need me to be. What's your name, darling?"

Unable to look away from his piercing gaze, she answers quietly, "Jia."

"Jia," Her name falling from his lips makes her knees weak as she nods, "And what can I do for you, Jia?"

"I- I was wondering if you could make me beautiful..."

The demon chuckles lightly, "Make you beautiful? Aren't you already?"

She shakes her head, "The boy I'm in love with doesn't seem to think so."

He tuts in disappointment, "Well, we can't have that now, can we?"

Jia shakes her head.

"Mm, well why don't we just make him fall for you instead? We won't need to change you at all."

"You can do that?" She breathes in disbelief.

He shakes his head as he chuckles at how naive she is, "I can do whatever I want, sweetheart."

"Wow," Jia looks up at him in awe, her eyes wide.

The same look they all give.

Nothing new.

"What's your name?" She asks suddenly, trying not to stare at the tattoos covering his arms.

Same questions too, how very entertaining.

Humans are all so small-minded.

"What's more important is the name of the boy you want."

"Oh," She wrings her hands, "His name is Wooyoung. Can you really make him fall in love with me?"

He nods, "I can. For a price."

"What do you want in return?"

"How about your soul?"

"My soul?" Jia takes a step back, frightened.

"Oh come on sweetheart, you didn't think you could make a deal with the devil and keep your soul, did you? I don't take any other offerings. It's this or I'm gone, and I won't be coming back." When she doesn’t answer right away, he turns to leave, an evil grin appearing when she calls out.

Just like he knew she would.

"Wait!" She sniffles, "...you promise he'll love me?"

They can never resist.

Smothering the smile and turning back, JK takes a step closer, "Until the day he dies," he whispers.

"Ok, I'll do it," Jia says softly.

He licks his lips and takes a step back, crossing his arms as he observes her carefully, "So, we have a deal?"

________

"Who are you?"

Different soul, same silly old questions.

JK sighs as he walks over to the teen boy sobbing at the foot of his mother's bed.

"I'm the one that's going to give you whatever you ask for."

The boy wipes at his eyes, beyond confused, but he won’t risk not talking to this man if he can help him, "A-anything I ask for?"

"Anything."

"Can you...can you make my mother well again?"

The tall stranger with long dark hair and a trusting smile, nods.

"Yes, I can. If that's really what you want."

"It is," the teen wipes his eyes again as he walks over to the mysterious man, "Please make her better."

"I can only do it if you give me something in return."

"I don't have any money or anything expensive to trade..." He says sadly.

The demon chuckles, "I have no use for such things."

"What do you want?"

A smirk spreads on his face as he looks at the broken human.

They're all so ridiculous, aren't they? Willing to throw anything around to get what they so desperately want.

"I know of something you can give me."

__________________

Money.

Fame.

Power.

Love.

Health.

Courage.

Strength.

Material goods.

Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it.

And what do they leave behind?

Nothing.

Nothing that those weak humans ask for will ever change what lies ahead.

They all die.

And no one will ever remember them.

JK sighs as he walks through the blackened trees, tilting his head side to side to stretch his neck, rubbing it as he groans.

Sav isn't going to be happy when he finds out that some of his humans already made a deal with a devil that isn't him.

He smirks and starts to rub the knot in his shoulder.

The sudden sound of a twig snapping catches his attention. He turns, expecting to see Sav coming up on him, anger in tow.

So it takes him by surprise when he sees no one.

He stares at the closest black tree. A moment passes as he just looks at the thick trunk, unamused.

"I can hear you breathing," he eventually says, arms crossing over his chest.

There's another snap of a twig and he rolls his eyes.

Finally, the stalker steps out from behind the burnt bark.

JK's eyes widen in shock when he sees the wide-eyed girl looking in his direction.

How in the fucking hell did a human get here?

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to startle you." She can't even see him, nothing but a dark silhouette standing among the trees.

He just continues to stare at her, noticing the way she blinks to try and focus and see him in the dark, "Who said you startled me?"

She frowns at the deep voice, thinking for a moment, then she shrugs, "I guess I just assumed I did."

JK takes a step towards her, "And what, pray tell, is a human doing this close to the entrance of the Underworld?"

When he moves closer, a sliver of red light that's coming through the trees illuminates his previously dark figure.

The second he steps into the blood red light, she freezes, eyes wide as she comes face to face with a demon. His dark hair is on the longer side and frames his face, his obsidian eyes appearing to glint slightly. A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest as he takes in her state; clearly frozen in terror, eyes the size of saucers.

Silly, stupid little human.

"What's the matter, doll? Devil got your tongue?"

You can't bring yourself to answer, it feels like a rock was lodged into your throat as you stare at him.

"I-"

He chuckles again, arms crossing over his chest.

The action draws your eyes to his bulging biceps.

You can't help but notice his tattoos, both his arms are covered in them; skulls, thorns, flames, barbed wire and plenty more unpleasant things you force yourself to look away from.

But one in particular catches your eye.

On his right outer bicep, there's a red rose, but it's dead and being strangled by a serpent that has something dripping from its fangs.

All of the tattoos are in black and gray, apart from the rose. The purpley red color makes the tattoo pop considerably against the others.

You gulp and drag your eyes back to the demon's face to see it smirking.

"What's your name, little human?"

You suddenly snap out of it and take a step back.

You're not an idiot, only an idiot that wants their soul taken will give a demon their name. Not happening.

When you don't answer, his eyes narrow and he takes a step closer, "I asked you a question."

Forcing your feet to stay planted, you jut your chin out in an act of defiance, but it only makes him chuckle again.

As if you could resist him.

You could never resist him.

Humans, the weakest link of them all.

JK licks his teeth as he looks you up and down.

He's amused to see you in a simple long white dress that goes to your ankles, and a floppy oversized brown cardigan. Black flats cover your feet, bits of mud smeared on them.

Not exactly the attire one would typically wear for a trip to the Underworld.

So, you're not very bright and you look pretty innocent.

Excellent.

"You stop right there," You hold your hand up when he takes a step closer.

He only stops for a second out of pure shock at your bold words, then he walks closer and closer until you're backed into the burnt tree.

"Ouch!" You lurch forward when the bark sears the palms of your hands that made contact with it. Thankfully you pulled your hands away before the tree did too much damage, only leaving two small red marks.

"You can certainly talk," he muses, eyes dragging up and down your body.

You cross your arms over yourself, feeling exposed even though you're practically covered head to toe.

"Let's try it again, shall we?" He leans closer, "What's your name?"

You just stare back at him, not allowing yourself to give in to the urge to drop your gaze.

"I'm not entitled to give you that information-"

He scoffs, "Looks like the little human did her research. Then you'll know I could still torture it out of you," The look in his eyes tells you he would gladly do so.

"I'm not clueless," You say praying your voice doesn't tremble, "I know what I'm doing. And I know you wouldn't dare touch me."

"Is that so? Enlighten me."

"You're a demon," You say.

"No fucking kidding-"

"And that means you can't resist a deal."

JK looks you over once more, becoming intrigued.

"Go on."

"Technically you can hurt me if you want, since I willingly came to the entrance of the Underworld, that rids me of protection."

His brow quirks as he listens to you ramble.

You most certainly did your homework.

"But the one thing you can't do, is take my soul."

He sucks his teeth, wanting you to just get to the point already.

"You can't take my soul without my permission, and I won't give it to you, unless you help me."

Ah, there it is.

"Alright, what do you want?" His hip tilts as he looks at you, bored.

"I want to be immortal."

He sighs, of course that's what you want.

All humans are the same.

"Easy."

You shake your head, "I don't want you to snap your fingers and tell me I'm immortal-"

"Well what the fucking hell do you want then? Stop wasting my time-"

"I want you to take me to the Flame of Immortality."

That shuts him up.

The demon just stares at you in silence for a full two minutes, until you're squirming with anxiety.

"The Flame of Immortality?" He finally speaks, glare piercing your very soul.

He's unsure how you uncovered the existence of the Flame, which raises his suspicions even more.

You nod, using all your strength not to bolt. You hadn't expected to come face to face with one of them so quickly, especially since you didn't technically cross into the Underworld yet. Yes, you made sure you knew everything you needed to before coming here, but it's still a shock to be faced with this demon in the flesh.

No amount of time and studying could have prepared you for it.

JK takes another moment to look you over.

Definitely innocent.

More innocent than he's seen in a while, which is a shocker. Not many humans are able to keep their soul so untainted no matter the efforts they go through. Especially these days.

You're all just stupid humans after all, far from perfection.

"How did you know it exists?"

You gulp, "Desperation will lead you to many secrets."

"Ah, and where does this desperation come from? Why would you want to live on earth with the pathetic human race for all of eternity? Want to continue to watch them fuck everything up on their own?"

You don't answer, just keep your mouth zipped shut.

After a while, JK sighs, "If I take you to the Flame, what are you going to give me in return?"

This time it's your turn to scoff, "If I did enough research to know the Flame exists, why wouldn't I know that the only thing you'll accept is my soul?"

He grins and you curse yourself for feeling a slight stutter in your heart.

What in the Heavens is wrong with you?!

He's a demon! A wretch!

You just hadn't expected him to look like…this.

You knew that demons would initially be attractive, yes, they have to be. If they weren't, humans wouldn't fall prey to their sinful actions.

Sin is attractive, until you see its true form.

That thought snaps you back so fast you almost get whiplash, taking a step back from him before he can try any funny business.

"So, we have a deal? The Flame of immortality for your precious little soul."

You shake your head, "I'll eventually give you my word that you can have my soul but not until your side is fulfilled. I'm not a fool, blindly trusting a demon is not the plan. You may not have my soul or my name. Not until I get what I want."

His eyes narrow at your stoic expression, determined to keep that pure soul of yours until you get what you came for.

Maybe you aren't so stupid after all.

Makes sense, carrying around a soul like yours, you can't just trust anyone.

That's exactly why he needs it.

"Fine, I'll take you there. Any human's word is no better than that of a thief's, but I suppose neither is a demon's. You'll get your Flame, but I assure you that if you try and leave before giving me your soul, you'll regret it. You might think that you outsmarted me and believe living forever will help you, seeing as you won't die and be dragged to the Underworld to live with me," His sinister grin spreads, "But that isn't the case, human."

You swallow thickly, "How does it work, then?"

He shrugs, clearly not willing to spill his little secret, "That's for me to know and for you to find out. Besides, since you did all that digging around and you're oh so knowledgeable, then you know you've already crossed the mortal world's line, and you can't get out of here without my help. So, what choice do you really have?"

"Do you promise to get me there and back?"

A brow arches before he laughs loudly, "Demons don't make promises, sweetheart, only deals."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you think through everything one more time.

Looking up at the dark red sky through the trees, you take a deep breath. You're not leaving this place until you get what you've been searching for, what you can only get here.

JK watches as you pinch your eyes shut and mumble something to yourself, then you stick your hand out, eyes still closed.

He chuckles darkly and takes your hand, giving it a firm shake.

He's not going to let this one get away from him.

"Deal."

When he lets go of your hand, you can finally breathe again, but your stomach turns horribly.

You're not getting out of this wretched place, not without his help.

Not sure if God can hear you from here, but you hope he forgives you for making a deal with the devil.

JK's smirk only grows as he lets go of your hand.

After a moment, you shift on your feet.

"So...which way do we go to get to the entrance?"

This seems so ridiculous, as though you're walking the streets of New York City and asking a stranger where the nearest restaurant is.

The demon standing in front of you turns and starts walking, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "The Flame is at the center of the Underworld."

"The center? How far is that?" You hurry to catch up with him, struggling because of his long stride.

He scoffs, "Thought you did your research."

You gulp, already losing your breath because of how quick he's walking and the thick smokey air here.

"I did, but there isn't exactly a map of the Underworld in history books," You snap back.

JK stops and turns, almost making you slam into him when he gets up in your personal space, forcing you to take a step back.

"Yeah, neither is anything about the Flame of Immortality, smartass."

Your nose scrunches in displeasure at his offensive words.

"So, how did you find out about it?"

You move around him and start walking, "Telling you everything about me wasn't part of the deal."

He takes a deep breath before turning to look at you walking, hands clenched in fists at your sides.

He needs to stay calm.

The last thing that can happen is you running off on your own and being discovered by another demon. They'd snatch you up quick and he'd never get another chance to get your soul.

Focus.

She's stupid just like the rest of them, she'll slip up eventually, they all do.

Just need to wait it out.

"Wrong way, mortal," He calls out, satisfaction seeping in when you stop awkwardly and look around, trying to see in the dark forest.

You hear his footfalls coming closer behind you and can't help the chills that go down your spine. Mission or no mission, deal or no deal, he's still a demon. You won't be safe until you're out of this place.

As he walks past, his shoulder bumps into you, knocking you roughly.

You purse your lips and say nothing, repeating to yourself the reason why you're here and why you can't mess this up.

You can do this, ____.

Freezing for a second, you eye his back suspiciously. You only continue walking when he doesn't react.

I knew they couldn't read minds, that was just a myth.

If they could, you'd be doomed.

You grab your skirt and hike it up to about mid-shin so you can hurry after him without it tripping you. The uneven, rocky ground is doing a good enough job of that already.

"Hurry up."

You purse your lips and breathe out through your nose slowly, tripping on another rock as you try to catch up.

"Hurry up," You mock quietly, focused on your footing.

"I heard that."

Looking up again, you see him even further ahead than before.

"How did he hear that?" You mutter, shaking your head.

JK glances back just in time to see you trip on a log and faceplant right into the forest floor.

"Ow," You groan, trying to push yourself up, spitting the dirt out of your mouth, "Ew, why is it so salty??"

"Might not wanna get any more of that in your mouth."

Your eyes widen and you start spitting and dusting off your mouth as best as you can, panic setting in, "Why? Why, what's wrong with it?!"

The demon just stands there and watches you start frantically trying to get the dirt off of you.

"Why do you keep asking stupid questions?"

You glare at him before standing up, "There's no such thing as stupid questions."

"Wow, so wise. Only an idiot would say that."

You huff and look down at your dress, knocking off the rest of the dirt until there's only a few smears left that aren't very prominent.

Your cardigan seems to have escaped unscathed. Pulling it around you more, you walk over to him just in time as he starts walking again.

It feels like you've been walking for hours and you're starting to sweat.

It's getting so hot.

"How long is this forest? When will we get to the gate?"

He doesn't answer you, just keeps walking.

"Why-" You pick up your skirt again and run until you come up to his side and try to keep his pace, "Why is it so hot?"

"Maybe because you're wearing a sweater on your little journey to the Underworld," he says sarcastically, earning another huff from you.

"Is it always so hot this far from the entrance?" You ask as if he didn't just treat you like an idiot moments before.

JK rolls his eyes, "Are you always this stupid?"

"Are you always this nasty?" You snap back, then you realize what you said and your cheeks redden.

Of course he's always this nasty, he's a demon.

Don't be foolish, ____. You've already got enough cut out for yourself.

When he doesn't respond and continues to stare ahead like he's bored and doesn't even care that you're speaking, you decide not to continue the conversation.

More time passes as the two of you walk quickly and silently, then you finally stop and hold up a hand, breathing deeply, "Hold on now, wait a second."

He stops, letting out a loud sigh, surely trying to make sure you know how irritating you are.

You're well aware.

"What is it now?" He snaps.

"I need to catch my breath."

He sighs again.

Fucking humans, so damn weak.

"Hoooo," You're bent over with your hands on your knees, taking in shaky breaths. You hadn't planned on speed walking through the forest. You hadn't planned on meeting a demon so quickly either though, so clearly the whole plan is messed up already.

You look up to see the demon standing there, hip cocked, and arms crossed.

"I wouldn't take so long if I were you."

"What? Why?" You try to hide the panting in your voice.

"Didn't you read about the forest?" He asks in mock surprise.

Then it hits you.

Oh.

Wait.

You stand up straight and look around, focusing on the sounds around you.

Or lack thereof.

No birds or squirrels can be heard or seen, which is to be expected. The silence of the forest is almost deafening.

Why would animals want to be anywhere near the entrance to the Underworld?

Unless they’re...

A howl pierces the air and your throat clenches up painfully, your wide eyes looking over to your delighted escort.

"Guess the hellhounds already caught your scent, little human."

You hurry over to his side, "They w-won't hurt me if they know I'm with you, right?"

When he doesn't answer, you step behind him, "Right?"

"They'll do whatever they want," he says calmly before turning and continuing his leisurely stroll.

"We need to hurry up then," You say as you catch up to him, "If they get me first, you won't get your end of the deal either."

"I'm aware."

"So you'll make sure they don't hurt me?"

"Not a bodyguard, simply a guide," he mumbles, eyes trained forward and a smirk playing on his lips.

The hellhounds aren't what you need to be worried about, ignorant human.

You gulp and glance behind you at the sound of another howl, the sound making your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"How close are we?" You ask, trying to mask the anxiety in your voice.

It's starting to really get hot, sickeningly so.

Gulping and pulling your sweater around you more, you glance up at him.

"We're almost there."

You thought you'd be relieved to hear those words, but instead, your stomach turns.

A few minutes later, you see an opening in the trees, a massive stone archway just outside of the dense forest.

"Why aren't the hounds inside? Why are they out here?"

He ignores your question, which you've already grown used to.

Another few minutes pass, the stone structure getting larger the closer you get to it.

"Here it is," JK says, stopping a few feet away and turning to look at you.

The look of terror on your face makes him chuckle as he looks back at the stone archway.

"Having second thoughts, sweetheart?"

His honey voice melts your fears away as you turn to look at him. A false sense of security envelops you as you look at his kind smile; mentally pulling you in.

With a sudden jolt, you snap out of the trance he put you in, taking a step away from him and crossing your arms over yourself as he grins at how easy it is to deceive you.

"No," You say firmly, "I'm not. I'm just hot and tired is all."

Looking back at the cracked stone, your eyes drag up to the top of the arch to see words in jagged ancient writing, carved into the rock.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate

"Gather your strength little human," The demon whispers seductively in your ear, his cold breath sending chills through you, "You're gonna need it."

a/n: I hope you guys like this new fic! hold on to ya butts, this is going to be a wild ride.

Tag list; @kookxin @butterymin

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook demon au #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts #bts reactions #bts angst #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts demon au #demon!jk #demon!jungkook #bts smut

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hehehereliesmysanity · 7 months

Text

Honey And Lemon

Chapter 9

Here is a snippet from the next chapter.

A little treat from me to those who can't wait for the new season or who are nervous about the wilmon endgame or having a simple not-so-great day. I hope this puts a smile on your face.

If you have never heard this fic before or read it, you can start from the beginning here.

💜💜💜

“Are you watching me sleep?” Wille murmurs. A small smile is visible at the corner of his lips but his eyes are still closed. Simon is caught red-handed but he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all.

“Yes,” Simon simply says.

“Don’t deny,” Wille grins, “You were staring at me. I can feel it."

“I said yes, Wille,” Simon giggles.

“Oh,” he blushes, opening his eyes only to avert them to the ceiling, anywhere but Simon.

“You are very pretty,” Simon blurts out. Wille snaps his head back at him so fast that Simon thinks he must have broken his neck. He hides his face deeper on Simon’s shoulder. “You are so beautiful, Wille,” Simon whispers in his ear. “I was just admiring your face.”

Wille groans loudly, burying his face deeper if it is possible. “You are not real and I am still dreaming,” he mumbles. Simon lets out a giggle, way too amused and giddy to see Wille blushing and getting shy. He is so enjoying this turn of events.

“Can I give you a good morning kiss and show you how real I am?" Simon smirks.

“Seriously, who are you?” Wille is too stunned.

“Is that a no?” Simon teases, with a grin playing on the corner of his lips.

Wille wets his lips and surges forward to capture his lips, pulling Simon to himself closer by his waist; the distance is a lot, even if Simon doesn’t know where Wille begins and Simon ends.

“Hi,” Simon giggles when he breaks the kiss.

“Hi,” Wille croaks out. He sounds so out of breath and gone that Simon feels so proud to be responsible for that. “Good morning,” he whispers against Simon’s swollen lips, pressing his forehead against Simon, his eyes closed to savour the moment.

“It already is.” Simon whispers softly.

“Stop that, oh my god.” Wille whimpers, his eyes going wide at Simon’s declaration. “You are killing me here.”

“It is payback." Simon shrugs and keeps smiling at him, his emotions are too much to handle and seeing Wille like this is his favorite thing now. Wille’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and Simon feels the need to explain. “For making me blush every time you open your stupid mouth.”

“Oh.” Wille’s grin gets bigger. “So you were actually affected.” he smirks.

“Duh,” Simon smiles back. “Like you didn’t know already.” He tucks a strand of loose hair behind his hair, simply for the sake of touching him. Then, instead of pulling his hand, he cups Wille’s cheek, his thumb gently brushing the scar that brought Wille to him.

Wille’s mouth twitches in satisfaction before he places his hand on top of Simon’s. He pulls Simon’s hand to his mouth and kisses the heel of his thumb. “I had no idea.” he murmurs, more to himself than Simon. “but this is even better than I could have ever imagined.”

“What is?” Simon says shakily, affected by the hand kiss. He didn’t even know if it was a thing.

“Waking up next to you..." Wille murmurs. “I knew it would feel amazing but I didn’t know it would feel like this.” He takes Simon’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers and rests them on their waists. Simon’s eyes are on their hands for a second, and they find their way back to Wille, who has been looking at him so tenderly, so warmly, and so caringly that Simon could cry thinking about it.

“I am sorry for leaving that morning.” Simon’s face falls.

“I want you to stop apologizing for that.” Wille tilts his chin to meet his eye. “I just feel lucky to be here with you.”

“Okay,” Simon presses his lips together.

“Now, you are obligated to spoon me and I earned to be the little spoon. I want to go back to sleep.” he yawns, turns to his other side, facing the wall.

“Ok, but let me go to the bathroom real quick,” he says and gets up from the bed in a rush. He comes back in a few minutes, only to find Wille propped up on his elbows watching the door, and he looks confused.

“What? I had to pee. I was holding it for a while.”

“Why?”

“You said you didn’t want to wake up alone, didn’t you? I couldn’t risk leaving the bed.”

“You are unbelievable, Simon.” Wille shakes his head in disbelief and with a little bit of awe.

“I know,” Simon says as he gets in bed and hugs Wille from behind, which gets a chuckle from Wille, who tugs Simon’s arm and wraps it around himself as if Simon wasn’t going to do the same thing in the following five seconds. He plants his face at the nape of Wille's neck and smells him. He smells so nice. So much better than a piece of clothing that could never be a replacement for him. He has the real deal now.

“You are allowed to leave the bed if you are gonna come back in less than 5 minutes. It is very unhealthy to hold your pee. I wouldn’t want your kidneys to fail you.” Wille chuckles, with his back against Simon's chest and Simon's whole body shakes from the laughter coming from him.

“Shut up.” Simon says, with a huge grin as he tightens his arms around Wille, who lets out a relieved happy sigh and drifts back to sleep.

#a snippet from ch 9 :)#SURPRISE!! 💜💜#young royals #wilmon #young royals fic #honey and lemon #yr fanfic #wilmon fic

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pantpisser9000 · 9 months

Text

Combined together, Chapter 8: Pictures taken

It had been a calm day on the Octopod. They had already finished up the med-checks for the people in the area, so the rest of the day was just filled with… chilling, if anything. Kwazii and the Captain played ping-pong again, (and shockingly, Kwazii was actually able to beat him this time! Peso would’ve congratulated him, but he was still scared of him. Sure, when he was hurt it was a no-brainer, though at the moment? If he wasn’t in Peso’s care, he was still terrifying. (Peso was warming up to him, a bit, though,)) and Tweak was apparently working on a new device of sorts. Dashi was helping her.

Shellington, the vegimals, and the Professor were cooking, (apparently the vegimals had dragged him out of his lab) and Peso had nothing to do. He had already finished his reports, so… Nothing. He was bored. He knew a person like Kwazii or maybe Shellington (though he for a different reason–research, of course) would take a GUP out and drive around. Peso was still terrified of even the thought of driving a GUP.

He’d never even driven a car, so meomi forbid a submarine. Just the thought made a few feathers prick out of his ears and arms. Eventually, he walked out to the hq. The Captain had mentioned hot cocoa at one point, but they still didn’t have it. Apparently they’d be making a stop later for the vegimals to plant some cocoa plants and buy some powder from locals before they grew.

Either way, he sat out there, looking at the calm water, some fish hybrids swimming by. They were elegant–practically mermaids–and it was enjoyable for a good while, before boredom poked its head in his business again. And, as if magic, Kwazii aprared. “Oy, Peso,” he said, and Peso whipped his head back. “Y-yes, Kwazii?” he asked, nervously. “I wanna go out on a ride, matey,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit laxly next to Peso.

Sweat beads cascaded down Peso’s forehead. “...I see.” he said, unsure of what that had to do with him. “You know you can’t-” Peso started, and Kwazii rolled his eyes, leaning back, “I know, I know, which is why,” he put his hands on the table, “I want ye to drive for me.” Kwazii said, flashing a toothy grin.

“W-what?! But I’m a medic-” Peso started, but Kwazii shushed him, pointer finger to Peso’s lips. “Yeah, obviously, but.. Think about it. What if the person who be driving gets hurt? How’d you deal if ya couldn’t drive?” Kwazii questioned, shockingly in a way that made sense. He usually spoke with such pirate junk that it was hard to get what he was saying. “I.. suppose you have a point,” Peso admitted. The pirate cat grinned, dragging Peso down to the launch bay. “Tweak!” Kwazii called. She popped out from behind a wall. “Yeah?” she asked. “Me an’ Peso here are gonna go on a little driving lesson!” Kwazii said, and Peso shakily nodded. “What GUP?” she asked. “Uhh-” Kwazii thought, “The GUP B- wait, no, uh-” he thought for another moment. “W-which GUP would I likely be driving the most?” Peso asked. Tweak stepped out, “The GUP E. Wanna take that?” she asked, and Kwazii looked to Peso, then back to Tweak. “Aye, matey.” She popped a thumbs-up, and pressed a button. Peso heard some whirring, and he saw a giant door inside of the bay open, and the GUP E being whished out.

It bobbed up at the surface, windshield retracting. Tweak motioned. “Thanks, matey!” Kwazii said, doing a flip as he jumped inside. Peso just made a little hop. Tweak looked at them expectantly. “Oh right– Tweak, open the Octohatch, matey!” Kwazii said, giving a thumbs up, and Tweak nodded, pulling the red lever. Kwazii closed the windowshield, and he looked at Peso. “O-oh, right,” Peso pulled on the steering wheel in the way that made it dip down, albeit very slowly. “Back up, and turn around,” Kwazii said, and Peso, (again very slowly) did so. Kwazii groaned.

“Speed it up, matey!” he said, and he put his arms over Peso’s, guiding an embarrassed Peso’s arms around. The area around was pretty clear, fortunately. Well, except for a trench. It wasn’t a big one though–certainly not the Mariana. And, it was somewhat far away. Didn’t really stop Peso’s worries about it, though. Kwazii instructed next; “Come on, push more forward!” and Peso squeezed his eyes shut, and the GUP was going faster.

Not as fast as it could, of course, and certainly not even close to as fast as the GUP B could go. “Faster!” Peso shook his head–he was sure he’d just about die if he went any faster. Though before he could properly protest, Kwazii pushed more on the wheel, and they were speeding ahead–directly towards a rock! “Pull to the left, matey!” Kwazii called, and Peso didn’t let himself freeze up, and he did it, jerking the steering wheel to the side, just narrowly avoiding the rock as they cruised past. Kwazii threw his arms up in the air, “Yeow! That was great, Peso!” he cheered. Peso just shook silently. The GUP had stilled, (Peso had let the wheel fall from his hands after that) and Kwazii put his hands on his hips. “I’d say that went well.” “I’m not so sure about that.” “Well, we didn’t crash.” “Please tell me that you’re not saying that not crashing is considered an accomplishment to you.” Kwazii shrugged.

Peso sighed. As he looked out the window, the water looked a little darker than before, and the GUP was shaking a tad. “I didn’t know it got dark so quickly in this area,” Peso remarked, and Kwazii looked confused. “Whuh?” and he glanced out the window, lifting his eyepatch, (and Peso learned that there actually wasn’t an injury under there. Odd.) and he muttered, “Shiver me whiskers.” “What is it?” Peso asked.

“We be in the midst of a storm.” Kwazii said, and he looked at Peso with a sort of worry. Peso guessed that since he had been (presumably, given the way he acted–it’d be insane if he wasn’t) a pirate for a long time, and probably knew the currents well enough or something. Not that Peso couldn’t tell–the GUP E was wobbling so much now both of them were having difficulty keeping their balance, and Peso saw fish hybrids being swept away in the strong currents at lightning speed.

“W-what do we do?” because even though as much as he was (still–even if he was warming up to him) scared of Kwazii, he had a feeling he’d have a better idea of knowing what to do. “Aha–uhhhhh… oh!” he dashed over to the screen as Peso sat down at the back of the GUP, unsure of what to do, “Kwazii t’ Captain Barnacl- oh, it be no use.” Kwazii muttered, and just as he said that, the GUP lost any sort of stability it once had, and was now being carried away in a current, Kwazii grabbing onto the panel for dear life while Peso pressed himself against the back wall of the GUP E (technically the back wall of half of it, not the back-back wall as that’s where water could filter into, but you get the point).

The water around them churned, and it was a little tiny bit horrifying to Peso, and if it was to Kwazii, he wasn’t showing it. Peso sealed up his helmet, and Kwazii glanced back at him, mimicking it and the bubble-like helmet covered his head within an instant. Kwazii grabbed onto the wheel, and he tried to turn (presumably back to the Octopod) but he winced when his shoulder ached and he as flung back against the wall–there was nothing they could do, as they saw the GUP plummet to the ground, just near the trench.

Fortunately, they weren’t dangling over the edge, just nestled in the sand near it, but it was still horrifying to the penguin hybrid. “Kwa-” he started, though the cat was gone. “KWAZII?!” he yelled and then he heard a scraping noise coming from behind, and he peered through the tiny window on the door of the GUP E, and “flappity flippers” he exclaimed, Kwazii was trudging along in the sand. Peso could practically hear the plink, plink, plink of the sand hitting his helmet, and he panicked–what was he doing?

Peso gulped, and the GUP E slid back, closer to the edge. Was Kwazii just abandoning him for dead? And just when Peso thought he was nice! But, no, that.. It really didn’t seem like him, honestly. Though, maybe Peso’s original idea was right–he was just a thieving pirate who was out to get him or abandon everyone or steal or something. Or maybe he was just irrational because he was scared. Who knows.

He heard the GUP E’s metal scraping against the seafloor, and he panicked, he tried the radio again–static. The GUP was settled (kinda) in the sand, or at the very least it wasn’t as wobbly as before, so he could stand up, but he tripped and his hand pressed against the big orange button–the Octo-alert. Of course, it couldn’t connect to the Octopod, so it just rang in his ears while the sound played in the GUP E. And, he felt the GUP slowly move in the other direction, and he, confused given how the currents were definitely going in the other direction before, (and he didn’t think currents like that changed on the fly–especially not in the midst of the storm like at the moment) and he looked through the window, and…

It was Kwazii! He had tied kelp or seaweed or something around the GUP, and was trying to pull it. Peso felt bad for doubting him. He was clearly struggling, though. Peso gulped. He wasn’t strong, but maybe he could help, somehow. His helmet was still up. He attached his medical bag to the hem of his pants, and he jumped into the harsh water. His boots planted into the sand, and the currents were pushing him hard, and he was so scared that he was going to be swept away right into the trench.

He practically crawled over, and he stood up, wobbling, and he grabbed onto the kelp, and Kwazii flashed him a sharp grin, and Peso returned with a utterly terrified but confident one. They pulled, and pulled, and Peso knew they weren’t too far away from the Octopod, but it felt like it was taking hours. The sand pelting against their bodies, the current trying to sweep them off their feet–it was a lot to deal with.

They trudged through the ruckus, and they made it far, (or at least Peso hoped they made it far) but Peso’s arms were getting tired, and he was certain that Kwazii was the same. Suddenly, he heard a snippet of Kwazii’s voice through the murky water, “m–atey-” he heard, “th–re be —- trac—g on th’ GUP-” was all that Peso could make out. He presumed Kwazii was saying that there was tracking on the GUP E, though he wondered why that was relevant at all. “W—-an le—ave it h—-ere”

Leave the GUP? Peso thought. If he agreed, he was sure the rest of the crew would be able to find it, right? Given the priorly mentioned GUP tracking and all. Just as he was saying “yes”, something came into view–a hull of a ship emerging from the stirred up sand and swirling waves, and Peso practically jumped for joy. “Captain Barnacles!” he cheered, and Kwazii whipped his head around, and he pumped his fist in the air. The GUP C lowered, its back facing towards Peso and Kwazii. Kwazii swam over, grabbing the tow line and swimming back to the GUP E and Peso, and they attached it to its rudders. They both hopped back inside the GUP E after giving a thumbs-up to the Captain, and it scraped against the ground, but eventually, it lifted, and while it was bumpy–both Kwazii and Peso were sitting in the seats—it was kinda bearable. Until, suddenly, the anchor loosened, tilting the GUP and the cat & penguin hybrids to the side, and Kwazii fell on top of Peso, “sorry matey” and suddenly, the GUP lurched back as the anchor couldn’t hold onto the GUP E anymore.

They were flung back, GUP E cruising through the currents without control, and Peso couldn’t help himself but grab onto Kwazii’s hand (and he didn’t realize his claws were out and digging into his flesh because he was just so scared and any form of comfort was comfort, right?) and Kwazii squeezed back, arching his back and shielding Peso’s body with his own, as they suddenly hit something. Peso opened his previously squeezed-shut eyes and as he looked around, he realized, the current couldn’t get to them anymore, but..

“W-we’re stuck in the trench!” Peso exclaimed, and Kwazii got up from his place on top of Peso. “Peso, me hearty… we be one wrong move away from plummetin’ down there like a sunken ship!” and the GUP teetered. “Over t’ that side, matey!” Kwazii yelled, and they leaned against the front part of the GUP E. Their placement was precarious. The back half of the GUP E was leaning off the edge, while the front half was “secure” on the rocky ridge. Peso gulped. Neither knew how much longer the storm would last. “Matey,” Kwazii said, “I think we got to try to get the GUP E more secure on the ledge,” he said, and Peso gulped again. “But how?” Kwazii stepped on the gas (it was battery run but it’s just an expression, right) and the rutter moved a lot, and it scooched them a little over…though the kelp they’d used to drag it along had clogged it up a bit.

Smart in that moment, now an idiot move. If one of them as much as took another step to the side, they could fall down into the treacherous trench. Both of them were still. Neither wanting to risk it. Despite Kwazii’s usually very… danger-oriented nature, he clearly didn’t want to die. And he couldn’t fulfill his nature at the risk of that. “W-what do we do?” Peso whimpered. “..I dunno, matey. I’m sure- the Octonauts will save us,” Kwazii replied. “They gotta.”

As they were there, both nervous out of their damn minds, the churning water just above the trench, there was nothing they could do. “We gatta come up with a escape plan, matey,” Kwazii said, breaking the silence. “Huh?” Peso blinked away his tears. “Um, w-why?” he asked. Maybe it was a stupid question, though. “So incase if the GUP E ‘ere falls, we don’t die, matey.” Kwazii said, a hint of rudeness in his voice. “Oh. Right..” Peso muttered. “.... wait. Can’t we just… open the back part of the GUP E and swim out? Or.. uh, better yet–open the window shield?” Peso suggested. Kwazii looked at him. “Good idea, matey!” Kwazii said. “Okay, on me count,” Kwazii put up his helmet, and Peso mimicked him, “we swim out, in three,” Peso gulped, “two,” Kwazii’s hand hovered over the button, “one!” he shouted, slamming the button and water flooded inside of the green submarine, and it pushed it back and teetered off the side of the ledge, and Kwazii and Peso swam out, and Kwazii grabbed the front part of the GUP (given how the windshield was still down) and he pulled it, (Peso grabbing onto him to help) and he got it to a steadier place on the side. “Shiver me whiskers, that was..” Kwazii turned to Peso, “very exciting!” he said, shaking him by the shoulders till Peso got dizzy. “W-well, now what?” Peso asked. Kwazii blinked. “...I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Peso put a flipper to his chin. “W-we could just try to swim back to the Octopod..” he offered. “A bold idea that be, though..” Kwazii looked up. “Even a trained pirate such as meself wouldn’t dare brave that storm.” and Peso looked up too. Even from below, it looked terrifying. “....so we’re sitting ducks..” he muttered. Kwazii sat down against the wall of the trench. “Practically.”

Peso sat down next to him. “Wait, Kwazii, our air!” he said, and Kwazii’s uncovered eye widened. “A-and we flooded the GUP E, so we can’t rely on that-” he muttered, and Kwazii got up and paced around. “Shiver me whiskers, Peso, I be- I don’t-” and now both of them were panicked, Peso curled up with his knees to his chest and Kwazii pacing back and forth. Their air tanks wouldn’t last forever. Unfortunately, only the Captain had the Octocompass to check the tanks–they couldn’t. “W-well, they were full when we left, right?” Peso asked, and Kwazii nodded. “But we be out here a while, matey–they-”

Both were panicking to every degree. “Sure– surely the Captain will come rescue us, right?” Peso said. “He will, but–what if he be too late?” Kwazii replied. Peso was silent after that one. What if he was too late? What if him and Kwazii just… died? Hopefully not. And suddenly, like a angel, they saw something blue braving the waves, and it swooped down, and, “Captain Barnacles!” Peso exclaimed for the second time that day. They saw him press a button. “Swim under, there’s a opening,” the Captain said, and the two rapidly swam over to the GUP C, and popped up into it, the door closing behind them. Kwazii and Peso both took in a breath of air. The Captain was smiling. “I’m glad you’re alright. But what were you doing outside of the GUP E?” he asked. Peso and Kwazii looked at each other. “It be teetering off th’ edge, Captain! Certainly a death sentence if I didn’t come up with th’ idea t’ escape through the windshield and then pull the GUP up on the trench side more!” he said. Peso was unimpressed–that was his idea, or at least the first part was. “I helped with that idea,” he said, and the Captain patted them both on the back. “Both of you did good on working together and not, ah, getting hur-” he looked at Peso's hand. “Peso, your hand is bleeding,” the Captain said. Peso looked down at it. Oh. When he had been gripping onto Kwazii’s hand for dear life, Kwazii’s claws had come out and sliced into his palms a little. “Oh.. I think I scratched my hand on a rock a little.” Peso lied, and he felt bad about that, but the Captain didn’t need to know about that. “...I see.” the Captain said. “Better be more careful next time matey!” Kwazii replied.

That’s a little funny for you to say, Kwazii, Peso thought. “We’ll have to wait out the storm,” the Captain said. “It’s too risky to drive while the waters are like that.” he continued and Peso and Kwazii nodded. Kwazii sat down. “I be set for a catnap,” Kwazii said, and he curled up down on the floor, and fell asleep immediately. The Captain and Peso looked at each other and laughed–it was somewhat impressive he could just do that on the whim.

Peso looked at his arms and felt his ears–the feathers were gone. He supposed he was okay, now. He sat down next to Kwazii’s sleeping figure and decided to take a little rest, too. It’d been a long day. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt a blanket being draped over Kwazii and himself.

Lunch was often a casual, relaxing time on the Octopod–when it wasn’t interrupted by the blaring of the Octo-alert, or a mission was happening, of course–and today was no different. The Captain with Kwazii and Peso on both his left and right, and Shellington sat next to Kwazii, with Dashi across from him. Sat next to her was Tweak, and then Inkling was next to her. Kelp cakes, pudding, and seaweed chips (Tweak and Kwazii had managed to convince the Captain to let them get some–even if he wasn’t a fan of the amount of salt they contained) that Tweak and Kwazii were practically just passing the bag back and forth, pouring some onto their plates.

And of course, the kelp cakes varied too–the regular ones, some carrot based ones (Tweak had helped the vegimals come up with that one) and some miso soup ones. The vegimals liked coming up with different types and variations. Some were smashing success, (like the chocolate one (besides with Dashi, obviously. She is part dog)) and others…not so much (The sand one, while… creative, wasn’t exactly tasty).

The topic today had been focused on family and childhood mainly, as Dashi had mentioned how they should have digital photo albums for everybody. And eventually, that had transformed into this conversation. As Dashi wiped off her chin with a napkin, “I did ballet as a kid,” she said, putting the napkin down. “I really wanted to teach my little sister it, but it wasn’t her style.” she continued, shrugging. Peso chimed in, (albeit kinda nervously) “My older sister did ballet for a while, though she switched over to ice skating..” Dashi put a hand to her chin. “Oh, I enjoyed ice skating the few times I did it–Australia’s not quite.. Ah, suited for it, though.” Kwazii nodded. “I sailed past one time! It be real hot, even in the seas.” he added, and Dashi nodded. “It’s very hot.”

“Though, surfing’s good there.” she mentioned, and Peso piped up once more, “Oh! I’ve done body surfing with my family before,” he recalled fondly. “It w-was really fun.” “It is, isn’t it? I’ve always loved it.”

“I never surfed, though I be a good swashbuckler,” Kwazii said, plopping a seaweed chip in his mouth. “What does swashbuckling even… entail?” Tweak asked. Kwazii just threw another chip in his mouth. “‘S a lot… like uh-” he trailed off. The table laughed. “Well, you know, I was a polar scout when I was younger,” the Captain mentioned.

“What that be?” Kwazii asked, and the Captain fondly recollected, “Ah, it was just a little.. Organization, I suppose, that had us to activities that could come in handy during an emergency, or help others.” he said, and Kwazii nodded. “T-that’s cool, Captain!” Peso chimed in, “Thank you, Peso,” he said. “Professor Natquik was our little troop leader, a very nice man. I wonder how he’s doing… he took care of me and Bianca when we were younger.” the Captain said.

“Like a babysitter, for instance?” Inkling questioned. “Something like that. He was more like a… a father, if anything.” Barnacles said. “I see..” Kwazii piped up. “Yeah, Captain Wolfb-” he stopped himself, and Dashi was curious on why, clearing his throat, “I be also taken in by another guy, after me parents left me on me own.” Kwazii said. “...what’d you mean ‘leave you on yer own’, Kwazii?” Tweak questioned. Kwazii shrugged, leaning back in his seat and letting another seaweed chip fall into his open mouth. “Me parents, I’d presume they wanted to let me…. Be independent or somethin’, cus they left me in a box in an alley when I be a wee kitten.” Kwazii said, totally laxly. Everyone looked utterly shocked, befuddled even. “What?” Kwazii asked, popping another chip into his mouth. “They left y’ in a box?” Tweak asked.

“...yeah? Did- does that not be normal?” he asked, and was met with an astounding “NO” and he was surprised. “...how old did you say you were again, Kwazii?” Dashi asked. “Around… uh- well, to be honest, I not be entirely sure of me age, but around.. Six or seven, probably.” Now it was Peso’s turn to speak up. “SIX YEARS OLD?!” Peso yelled, and everyone looked at him. Obviously. Especially given how quiet he tended to be. “T-that’s just, um, horrifying, that’s all.” and nobody could really disagree with that.

“Huh. Didn’t know that.” he muttered. The table was a bit quieter for a moment, before Shellington spoke up. “I have an older sister,” he said. Everyone was, expectantly, a little confused. He was just trying to lighten the mood, that was all. “People confuse us for being twins, though.” he continues, looking at his plate and popping a kelp cake in his mouth. “I have a twin sister,” the Captain said. “I mentioned her before–Bianca.” he continued. “Ah, my sister’s name is Pearl. I hope we can visit her soon, actually.” Shellington said. “I’m sure we can, Shellington.” the Captain says. “Where does she live?” “In a kelp forest near Scotland.” he says, taking a bite of a seaweed chip.

“Sorry, did you say in a kelp forest, Shellington?” the Captain asks. “Yes! She’s part sea otter, like myself, of course.” Shellington says. Dashi pipes up, “She’s quite nice.” and they all look at her. “Yar’ve met Shellington’s sister, matey?” Kwazii asks, and Dashi nods. “Me and Shellington ran into each other a while back, after I had just got hired to be an Octonaut. I was finishing my two-weeks for my flight attendant job. He needed some pictures of him and his sister for a project, so I offered to take some.” Dashi told them.

“Actually, now that I think of it–I think we should get everyone’s pictures uploaded to the Octopod’s database.” she offers. Peso tilts his head to the side. “W-why?” he questions. “Just incase if they get lost or something, there’s a copy out there.” she says, and Peso nods. “Good idea, Dashi.”

“I can start with my own, since I already have those. And then Shellington’s. Anyone wanna volunteer to go next?” she asks. Tweak raises her hand. “I’d like t’, Dashi.” she says, and Dashi gives a thumbs-up. “Okay, me, Shellington, Tweak…” “I’ll do it after Tweak, Dashi.” the Captain says, and Dashi nods. “I’ll go, matey!” Kwazii pipes up. Dashi curtly nods once more. “I-I’ll go after Kwazii.” Peso suggests, and Dashi nods again. “I will go last, then.” Inkling says, and Dashi flashes a thumbs-up.

***

Her pictures were fairly easy to upload, given she took most of them on her own camera, and she had her phone on the ship with her. Sure, nobody really used their phones while aboard, (even if the wifi was shockingly good) but it was handy for getting some pictures from her family. She wasn’t always able to take the picture, after all. She decides that everyone should have all their pictures uploaded besides any repeated pictures. Or, in Dashi’s case, if they had way too many. So, she ended up putting a nice list of photos for herself.

One of just herself, full body (she decided that everyone should have one of those)

One of her and her younger sister, Koshi

One of her and her whole immediate family

One of her and her full extended family

Some old ballet pictures/hobby related ones

One of her in her flight attendant garb

And some vacation pictures that involved herself.

She figured it was a good list. It wasn’t all of her pictures, (she actually enjoyed selfies, shockingly) but it was a lot. And certainly all of the ones that she’d want backed up, at least. Next up was Shellington.

She went ahead and uploaded all of the pictures she’d taken, and Shellington sent her the other ones. He didn’t seem to have any with his full family, but Dashi decided not to pry. It’d be rude, certainly. She called him up though anyway. “Dashi, did I accidentally not send you all the pictures?” he asked as he shot out from the Octochute, and Dashi shook her head. “No, you sent them all. I just need to take a few.” she said, and Shellington cocked his head to the side. “A full body shot of you, and of you and the vegimals. I’ve taken a few of those already, but I want one with all of them in view as well.” she said, and Shellington nodded. “I can go fetch them right now, if you’d like,” he said, and Dashi nodded. “That’d be wonderful.”

Shellington ran off again, into the garden pod. It was where the vegimals spent most of their time, given that’s where they farmed and cooked, so it made sense he’d check there first. Though, sometimes, they wandered off to random places, (especially Codish–the pink one–and Grouber, –the big purple one– or on occasion, Barrot.) and got lost. Of course, they almost never left the Octopod unless if it was all of them going (or just Tunip given as he was pretty much the leader, the representative of them, so that instead of all of them going when the Octo-alert was sounded, it was just him so they didn’t have to stop their duties) so that led to lost vegimals not being a regularly occurring thing.

That’s what Dashi thought until Shellington, frantic, jumped out of the chute with all of the vegimals trailing behind him. Except one. The tiniest of the bunch–tomminow. Small and red, they often stayed with the others. Almost never ventured off on their own, and if they did, it was usually with Grouber or one of the other vegimals. They just tried to help their brothers whenever they could, and that was what they did.

Except now, they couldn’t help because they were “Tomminow’s missing, Dashi,” Shellington said, and Dashi was a little surprised. What had happened to them? The one vegimal who was never on their own. “Are they in the garden or kitchen?” Dashi asked, just making sure she was covering all bases. Shellington looked to the vegimals, and Tunip trilled a response. “Tunip says they looked in every nook and cranny in both of those places. They’re not there.”

Dashi put her hand on Shellington’s shoulder. “Let’s check the lab,” Dashi suggests, and Shellington looks at her, confused. “Why would they be there?” he asked. Dashi shrugged. “Tomminow’s sweet. And all of them know you have a tendency to forget to eat, so maybe they brought some food down or something.” Dashi explains, and Shellington nods. “Makes sense.” he says, and they both go into the laboratory–nothing. “Maybe they’re spending time with the Professor?” Dashi suggests, pointing to the library. Professor Inkling says he hasn’t seen them. Dashi can feel the nervousness radiating off of Dr. Shellington. “Infirmary, maybe?” she says, and Peso says he didn’t see them at all. “Let’s go to the game pod, maybe they got challenged to play pingpong,” Dashi says, and when she, him, and his 4 current vegetable-fish-human children arrive, Kwazii and the Captain are playing. “Tomminow’s missing?” the Captain asks, and Dashi nods. “Have you seen them?” she asks, and Kwazii shakes his head. “Nah, matey. Maybe they be helping Tweak, though?” he suggests, and Dashi and Shellington decide to listen to his suggestion and head to the launch bay. “Missin’?” Tweak asks, tightening a bolt on the GUP A, leaning over on it from the jutted out bit in the bay. “Tomminow, the tiny red one,” Shellington elaborates, gripping onto his satchel’s strap tight. “No, sorry. I haven’t seen ‘em.” Tweak says sympathetically.

Shellington looks at Dashi. “Where are they, then?” he asks no one. And nobody besides Tomminow themself knows the answer.

Suddenly, the alarm blares��but not the Octo-alert. Tweak races over to the screen, and she presses a button, and she gasps. “Somethin’s stuck in one of th’ pipes!” she cries, and Shellington and Dashi look at each other, sharing one thought–Tomminow.

“Which one, Tweak?” Dashi asks, somehow still sounding calm even in this situation. She pressed a few buttons and pulled it up on screen, the orangish dot lodged in the pipes that was likely Tomminow blinking, and she pointed. “It’s one of the ones for the kitchen’s sink. No idea how they got in there, assumin’ it is Tominnow…” she said, biting into her ‘thinking carrot’ as she called it.

She looked at Shellington and Dashi. “But no matter how or why, we needa get em out. I’m soundin’ the Octo-alert!” she said, slapping the button with her palm, and the ‘woop, woop’ sound echoed throughout the ship. “What’s the matter, Tweak?” the Captain asked through the screen–he appeared to still be in the gamepod with Kwazii from what Dashi could see.

“Somethin’--we think it may be Tominnow–is stuck in one of th’ pipes!” Tweak frantically said, and the Captain’s eyes widened. “Tominnow be stuck in the pipes?! I know they be a little matey, but–the pipes?” Kwazii commented from behind. Tweak nodded. “It’s in the kitchen.” she said, and the Captain commanded, “Octonauts, to the garden pod!”

***

Soon enough, all of them were there. Shellington looked to be on the verge of tears, most of the vegimals were crying, and everyone else just looked generally concerned. Tweak pulled up a map of the pipes on her Octo-tablet, and her face displayed a grimace. “It doesn’t look great. It’s a little bit of a tight squeeze for someone like the Captain,” and Dashi seemed to be the only one who noticed the Captain get significantly more nervous,”but fer me or Kwazii or Dashi it’d be okay. We’d have to cut a hole about..” she stepped over to a tile, thumping her boot down. “Here. It’d allow for the easiest entrance. And, we’d uh, have to cut open the pipe. So, whoever’s going down will have to twist the valve to stop the flow completely, because otherwise we’d have a real disaster.”

She sighed. “I could do-” she started, but Kwazii piped up. “I’ll do it, matey!” he valiantly said. It wasn’t a surprise that he wanted to do the risky thing. Tweak nodded. “That’s a good idea. It’s probably smart to have me supervising from above, looking at th’ pipes and the sort anyways.” she said. And so, it was decided. “Captain, you know how t’ belay, right?” Tweak asked. He nodded. “Of course. It was part of my polar scout training.” he said, and Tweak gave a thumbs up.

As Tweak cut open the hole in the Octopod’s kitchen’s floor, Kwazii wormed his way into the harness, and was embarrassed when it was all twisted up and he had to do it again (this time with some help from the Captain). Though after that little fiasco, they were good to go. Well, after Tweak gave him a backpack that held a sawzall, a device that could cut through the metal pipes. “Okay, Kwaz, yer gonna want t’ step on the big pipe right there,” Tweak said, pointing. Kwazii turned on his headlight. “I see it, matey.” he said, confident. He was slowly lowered down by the Captain, landing square on the pipe with the thump of his Octo-boots. He could hear the chorus of sighs of reliefs.

“Okay, there should be a pipe to yer left.” Kwazii hesitated, doing the L finger trick with his hands (Even if he couldn’t read or write very well, he had managed to still get that trick down). “It’s thinner then the one yer standing on now, so be careful.” Tweak said from above. “I always be careful!” Kwazii said, jumping down and he wobbled a little bit, but eventually regained his balance on the pipe easily. “The one Tomminow is stuck in is the one just to the right of that,” Tweak says, “Walk forward to get to the valve for it.” she says, and Kwazii obeys, carefully balancing on the pipe. “Wait, stop!” Tweak calls, and he stops immediately. “Get on all fours–otherwise, you’ll bonk yer head into a pipe.” she says, and Kwazii does so. “Now continue.”

Kwazii crawls along, his headlamp just barely illuminating the space. “Okay, the valve should just be on the pipe.” Tweak tells him, and Kwazii looks at it. “I see it, matey!” he says. “Twist it to the left,” Tweak says, and Kwazii does so, twisting with all his might, and eventually, he’s able to. “Now go back, and I’ll tell ya when to stop.” she says, and Kwazii crawls back, gripping onto the pipe. He’s glad it’s made of metal that his cat claws can’t slice through, because they’re currently out. They tend to when he’s stressed or needs to grip something like he is right now.

And eventually, Tweak tells him to stop, and he comes to a halt. “Now, on the pipe, I want you to take out the Sawzall.” she says, and he takes the backpack off, pulling the sawzall out. “Don’t worry, Tomminow’s a lot more to the side, so you won’t be cutting the pipe on them.” Tweak clarifies, though Kwazii has a feeling it’s to calm Peso, Shellington, and the rest of the vegimals, not him.

He revs it up, and he places it on the pipe. “It’ll probably take a minute, so be patient,” Tweak says, and Kwazii has the urge to make a snarky comment back, but he doesn’t want to get distracted, so he doesn’t say anything.

It takes a couple of minutes, but he perseveres through and the pipe is left open. “Lil matey?” he calls, and he hears a trill. And… flopping? “Can y’ get over ‘ere, matey?” he asks, and he puts his hands under the opening after putting the sawzall back in his backpack. He only hears some trills, and some more flopping, and soon, he sees the little red–oh, wait–

“...does they usually look so–fishy?” Kwazii asks as the little fish flops into his hands, and he comforts them as best as he can. “You be okay, little matey!” he says, and suddenly, the little guy transforms back into a more humanoid form, legs instead of tail, and a regular person head (just with a sprout) instead of a fish head with a sprout. He thinks it’s a sprout, at least. Tomminow, donned in their little overalls, clutches onto Kwazii’s shirt like it’s the only thing anchoring them to life. “I’ve got ‘em!” Kwazii calls, “Lift us up!” and slowly, they’re highered, just having to dodge a pipe or two.

Once they’re back at the usual floor, Tominnow is crying, a wet spot on the ginger cat’s shirt. “Oh- you be alright?” he asks, and Tomminow just grips harder. Kwazii’s bad at comforting, though, so as he stands there awkwardly as the little guy cries into his shirt, he offers, “Um, don’t ya wanna see Shellington?” he asks, and Tominnow looks up, and he trills happily as Kwazii extends out his arms and Tominnow leaps into Shellingtons.

“...I think I have t’ change shirts..” Kwazii says, grabbing the hem of his shirt and stretching it out to look at it. He undos his harness, and he walks out, going to his room to presumably change his shirt.

As he enters, he takes a glance at his catnip plant, and at his closet. He’s tempted, to say the least. Part of him feels he shouldn’t, dinner’s probably soon, but at the same time…he hadn’t even taken a little of either things, so he decides he owes himself a little treat. Opening his way too many doors to get into his closet, he grabs a bottle. He pours out a little in an Octo-mug. It’s not much, really. He pours a little more out–it’s only like, half full.

He walks out, closing his barrage of doors, and he grabs a little bit off his catnip plant. He figures he should eat it, because that’ll mellow him out. And so, he drops it into his mouth, and consumes, and he finds his brain getting a little fuzzy. His arms are covered in more fur, now. He supposes it’s a side effect of the catnip–making him more cat-like. He takes a swig out of the mug, and it burns his throat in a good way.

He’s sitting on the floor next to his bed, and he pulls out an action comic. Sure, he can barely read, but he can usually grasp what’s going on just from the pictures. He takes another swig, and he’s not entirely sure how long it’s been since the one before.

And of course, eventually, he’s drunk all that’s left in the mug. He’s not super high or drunk or anything of the sorts at the moment, but he’s mellowed out and he’s satisfied as he sprawls out on the ground because he thinks he sees a new color, and wow is it pretty. He curls up on the floor, and he doesn’t fall asleep but it is very nice. Even if it’s hardwood. He traces his fingers–paws?--along it, giggling for no apparent reason.

He just kinda hopes nobody walks into his room, because he’d prefer not getting his things banned. They probably won’t, right? He’s probably a legal adult for that kind of thing. He’s not really sure partially because he doesn’t know the legal age for that and partially because he doesn’t know his own age. Really, a tough situation. He’s sure he’s like… an adult, though. He’s been around for at least 18 years though, he reckons.

Plus, Peso’s like… 27 or something like that and Kwazii’s probably older than that, he figures. Given how Peso acts. He thinks of this as he’s sprawled across the floor and he can feel his eyes getting droopy, and he dozes off pretty quickly.

He’s awoken by his alarm that next morning, and he groans. “Mmmmmrroww..” he mewls, rolling over on the floor, “Yeow!” he shouts, as his shoulder hits the hardwood floor particularly hard. It’s healed since the whole tiger shark ordeal, but it hurts more than it would usually whenever he bumps it into anything. Thinking about it now, he realizes it’s been a little while since that whole thing. He supposes time has just been passing by–and he hasn’t thought about his old crew much.

Sure, they were terrible, but, he still finds himself missing them a little. They were his family, practically. Especially… especially him. Wolfbeard. He shuddered just even thinking of the guy. He was.. Honestly probably the only thing he was scared of, besides spiders, (no matter how much he denied that fact) but fortunately, like spiders, he couldn’t jumpscare him under the water. He sailed on a pirate ship, not a submarine like the Octopod!

Even if he despised the guy now, he was being honest earlier when he said he was like a dad to him. Given his parents left him at a young age, and Calico Jack went missing a long, long time ago, he didn’t have anyone else. Groaning and getting up, he crawled into his bed. He shouldn’t go back to sleep, though he wanted to. He stretched and got out. Walking out, him and the Captain had decided to leave their rooms at the same time. “Good morning, Kwazii,” the Captain said. “Mornin’, Captain,” he replied. Oh. That was the first time he’d called him Captain. He figured the term and ol’ him had been separated enough in his mind to be comfortable calling someone else that. “Off to breakfast, ey?” Kwazii says, jumping, and the Captain curtly nods. “Yes. I believe Dashi is going to be uploading more pictures, today.” he tells Kwazii, and the cat nods. “Oh, alright. Who’s she on?” “Shellington, I believe. She wasn’t able to finish yesterday with Tomminow’s situation. And, she might skip Tweak for now since she needs to repair the pipe and the floor.” Captain Barnacles said, and Kwazii gave a thumbs up. “Oh, who be after Tweak?” Kwazii asked.

“Myself. Then you, I believe.” he said, and Kwazii nodded, jumping down the chute. The Captain trailed after him as they launched into the headquarters of the Octopod, and Dashi was already there. So was Tweak. “Hiya Cap,” she said, waving to the Captain. “Hello Tweak. How’s the progress on the pipe going?” he asked, and Tweak put her hand on her hip and took out a carrot. “I know how t’ do it, but y’ need to belay me.” she said. “And the vegimals are too nervous to go into the kitchen while the hole’s open, so we may have to… delay breakfast.” she rubbed the back of her neck.

Kwazii sulked, his ears pressing against the sides of his head. “Aw, that be unfortunate.” he said, and Tweak agreed, taking another bite of her carrot. “Agreed. I’m hungry.” she said. The Captain cleared his throat. “Speaking of,” he looked at Tweak, “We should go do that right now,” and Tweak flashes a thumbs up. “Yup! Let’s go,” Tweak exclaims, and she and the Captain head into the Garden Pod’s chute.

Dashi turns around in her chair. “They’re technically next, after Shellington, but he’s busy coaxing the vegimals. I think we should get your pictures uploaded right now,” she says, and Kwazii blinks, a little surprised. “Arr, okay Matey!” he says, and he runs to the chute. “Try to get any and all pictures you have!” she says, and Kwazii gives a thumbs up as he jumps into the chute.

He backflips out into the small area between his and the Captain’s rooms, and he walks into his room. He knows he has one sacred picture of him and Calico Jack in his closet, the only one that Kwazii had with him and his Grandfather. He had other pictures of just himself or just Calico but that was the only one with them together. Kwazii knew Calico was great, obviously. Just about one of the most famous pirates there ever was! And as much as he wanted to brag about that fact, especially since he was his inspiration for being who he was, it also felt.. Wrong. He didn’t know his crew well enough to tell them. One day, though. But, he did have a few of just himself–not many, as most of the pictures he had taken during most of his life were with his old crew. And he only had one that he had brought–he hadn’t wanted to escape on that little lifeboat with too many remembrances of the past. He… if something happened to the Octopod, he wouldn’t mind that one being destroyed forever. So, instead, he picked up his small amount of pictures of just himself… and he brought them down to Dashi.

“No offense, Kwazii, but is this really all you have?” she asks him as he hands her the minimal amount of pictures. “Yes.” he lies, and despite being a pirate, he’s a bad liar. Though, even if Dashi can certainly tell, (she seems pretty perceptive, plus she made a face at the lie) she doesn’t pry, thankfully. Kwazii isn’t sure if he’d be able to lie straight to her face again, especially if she interrogates him. “Hm. Alright. Well, this shouldn’t take long at all, then,” she says. “What exactly are all of the pictures of, by the way?” she asks, tapping at the screen.

Kwazii picks one up. “This is me as a wee kitten,” he says, handing it back to Dashi. “Aw,” she coos, and Kwazii flushes in embarrassment. Maybe he should’ve left that one out, too. “This one be of me chugging me first rum,” he says. Dashi makes a face. “...I know you don’t know your age, but you look.. Pretty young, there,” she says. Kwazii puts his hands on his hips. “Ah, well a pirate has his first rum at 10, usually.” Dashi looks concerned. Kwazii clears his throat, accidentally a little like the Captain. It’s a habit he has. Mimicking little things like that. He knows he still subconsciously does things that he used to do. It’s not on purpose, really. It’s just a force of habit, truly. Dashi doesn’t say anything more. “And the last?” she asks, still scanning in the second. “That be me after they got lopped off!” he says, handing the picture to Dashi, and she blinks. “Huh. Didn’t know you were trans, Kwazii.” she says, beginning to scan in the picture.

He cocks his head to the side. “Trans?” he asks, genuinely. She swivels her seat back to look at him, and then back at the picture. “Do you–” she pinches her nose bridge. “Were you born with feminine features, Kwazii?” she asks, and Kwazii shrugs. “Me parents thought I be a girl for way too long, I guess. An’ I got those lumps growing,” he motions to his chest, “There. For some weird reason.” he says. Dashi chuckles.

“What?” he asks. “Don’t worry about it, Kwazii.” she says, a hint of a giggle still in her voice. He decides to ignore that interaction. “Well, I have some other pictures of you that I took, so I’ll upload those,” Dashi said. “Would you mind getting Peso for me?” she asks. “He’s next. Well, probably, at least. Given Tweak and the Captain are probably still fixing up the kitchen from the whole pipe situation, and I think the vegimals won’t leave the lab until the kitchen’s fixed.” she says, shrugging. Kwazii gives a thumbs-up. “Will do, matey.” he says, bounding off to go inform Peso.

When he gets there, Peso seems to be cleaning up. “Hey, matey!” Kwazii yells out, and Peso’s head bobs up, looking at Kwazii with widened eyes. “H-hello, Kwazii. Why are you here?” he asks, walking towards him. “Yer next for th’ whole picture thing. Y’ might wanna grab some from yer room,” Kwazii says. Peso blinks. “Oh, okay! I’ll go do that now then,” and Kwazii flashes a thumbs-up. Now what?

He’d figure it out, probably.

Dashi isn’t left waiting long, though she’s able to upload all the pictures she already has of Peso on her camera before he gets there. Peso arrives just 20 minutes after Kwazii went to go fetch him, a box presumably filled to the brim with pictures in his grasp. When he places it next to her, Dashi finds she was right. She should’ve expected it, but this was a lot of damn pictures. She held back the urge to sigh. Peso pulled one out, and unleashed it from its frame.

“This is of my whole family, not including all of my cousins and aunts and uncles for the most part.” he says. Dashi nods, careful to not accidentally rip it as she scans it in. It seems to have been kept in pristine condition, (unlike Kwazii’s pictures) so that made the process a tad easier. She handed it back to him, and he slid it back into its frame. He put it off to the side.

He hands her another after taking it out of its own frame. “Me and my younger brother, Pinto, when he was just a chick” he explains as he hands it to Dashi. She coos–it’s an adorable picture. Who she presumes is Pinto is swaddled in a red scarf, and who she assumes is Peso looks nervous and elated at the same time. She scans this one in with ease too. She hands it back, and the process starts again.

This one’s of Peso and all of his siblings–his older (twin) siblings Perita and Pogo off to the left, Peso next to them, and who she presumes is Pinto’s head barely in frame to Peso’s right. The next is of a lot of penguin hybrids that Dashi can’t distinguish on top of a hill, and who Peso clarifies is himself face-planted in some snow. The one after that is Peso with his medical diploma. Peso in a hospital, which he says is his first real job (Technically more of an internship, but same difference, right?). There’s a lot more pictures after that, but Dashi kinda zones out at that point.

Eventually, though, Peso’s photos are all uploaded. Dashi thinks one day they should all show their pictures in the game room–or just watch a movie or something. It’s been a while since she’s had a movie night, actually. And she didn’t think anybody would mind snacking on some buttery popcorn. Been a while since she’s had that, too.

When she laxes back in her chair, she remembers the only ones left are the Captain, Tweak, and Professor Inkling. Technically Shellington and the Vegimals too, but it’s not that many more pictures. She could hold off on that for a little longer. And, as if Meomi themself had granted it, the green haired girl and white haired man popped out of the octo-chute just moments later. “Heya Dashi” Tweak greeted, and Dashi took in the state of them. Covered in sweat, the both of them. As Tweak grabbed a carrot, she dropped it almost immediately, wincing. “Got my hands burned.” Tweak elaborates, kicking up the carrot and it lands on the table. “I’m gonna go t’ Peso, even if it’s probably fin-” The Captain looks at her sternly. “... I’m goin’ to Peso, ain’t I?” she says, and he nods. “That’s true. Now,” he says. Tweak rolls her eyes playfully, jumping down the Octo-chute.

He turns to Dashi, walking up behind her. “How is the photo-uploading coming along, Dashi?” he asked. “Excellent, Captain. I just need… yours, Tweak’s, and the Professor’s.” the Captain nods. “I’m off to the showers, but I can go get Professor Inkling.” he says, and Dashi grins. “That’d be wonderful Captain.” she says, waving as he launches himself down the Octo hatch. She sighs.

A frigid shower was probably the most refreshing thing to Captain Barnacles. Given the whole part-polar-bear thing, it was enjoyable. He always tried to keep his showers short, though. Less time in the shower, less likely the Octo-alert would sound while he was in the shower. Either way, it finished quickly, he got changed, and he decided to head down to the hq. Dashi seemed to have already finished up with the Professor’s photos when he walked in, and he walked up behind her. “Dashi, how is the photo-uploading going?” he asked, and she swiveled back to look at him. “Really well, actually,” she says, tapping on the screen. “I’ve got Kwazii’s,” she swiped past a few of his, “Peso’s, My own, most of Shellington’s, the Professor’s… only two I need are yours, Tweak’s, and a little for Shellington.” she says, and the Captain nods. “That’s fantastic, Dashi.” he says, hands behind his back.

“Mhm. And, I actually have a bit of an idea,” she says, now swiveling the chair completely towards Barnacles. “There’s going to be Octonauts after us, right?” she asks, and the Captain tenses. He hadn’t really thought about it. “Well, yes, there will be.” he cocks his head to the side. “Why?” he asks, curious on what this had to do with anything. “I figured that, and so I had the idea–what if we made a series of videos that are sort of, uh, instructions, I guess. For specific scenarios and situations, I suppose.”

He puts a finger to his chin. “That’s an excellent idea Dashi!” he says, and Dashi flashes a thumbs-up. “If you could compose a list of sorts of all the things somebody might need to know so that we can develop the videos, that would be great, Captain.” she explains, and Barnacles nods. “I’ll do it once we’re done with my photos,” he says, and Dashi nods. “I’ll go grab them now,” Barnacles finishes, and Dashi nods, facing back towards her screen. He jumps down the Octo-chute, and walks to his room. He gathers up all of his pictures in his arms, and is easily able to carry him all. He works out every day for a reason, after all.

***

Dashi was glad they’d gotten through uploading all the photos, but this new project was going to take longer. And be a lot more effort, to say the least. Making a LOT of instruction videos was going to take awhile, and it already had. Her and the Captain had gotten together and come up with a bunch of ideas, then later Dashi stayed up kinda late, (blasting music through her earbuds, probably visible eyebags, some of the vegimals bringing her a plate of fish biscuits or kelp cakes on the occasion to keep her fed, sitting criss-crossed on a chair with a fluffy pillow under her, makeup freshly wiped off her face) editing and coming up with ideas for the videos from the ideas.

She had a lot, to say the least. She was kinda excited to see Captain in that ‘exercise’ outfit that he mentioned–sounded silly, in all honesty. She knew they weren’t doing this in any particular order, and she’d probably end up switching up the numbers a little in the end so that it’s not a bunch of the same thing in a row. Currently, though, she needed to get the actual set up done. A greenscreen was necessary, of course. A lot of these ideas involved it.

Plus, there was an idea with a blob–one of the few videos that wasn’t just the Captain speaking–that they needed pudding for, plus two others. Dashi figured it’d be Peso and Kwazii, given how those two were 1: often the least busy (especially Kwazii who was really only actually doing things during missions) 2: both most likely more than willing (Peso because he likes helping people + would feel bad if he didn’t help and Kwazii because of boredom). She had a video camera… not the best one, but it would work.

And today was the start of filming. The first few videos were kinda ‘cringey’--given how the Captain was dressed up in bright, 80s inspired workout clothes, and Dashi was trying to keep herself from giggling basically the entire time. The Captain seemed to be rocking it though, not at all embarrassed, (Dashi wondered if he was a theatre kid) and showing off his ‘polar bear strength’ in a few of the videos. Fortunately, the filming for most of those ones only took… about an hour or two? And there would be a lot more filming. The next batch was just a lot of ‘what if’ situations, some of which the Captain explained just with his words, and a few that they decided on physical visuals. The non-physical-visuals was a little… repetitive, to say the least. The Captain, in front of the greenscreen, yapping on about one thing or another. And that same thing, just… a million times. It was getting at least a little boring. Then, the ones with physical visuals, just… without those, yet. The intros, basically. And, eventually, after a lot of filming (and I truly mean a LOT of damn filming) the Captain orders for a break.

“Dashi, I believe a break is in order.” he said, and Dashi looked up from the camera that was currently situated on the tripod. “Oh- of course, Captain,” she said, standing up from her squatting position and dusting off her (still clean) skirt. He grabbed his Octo-compass from his belt, looking at the time. “Yes, it’s just about lunchtime, anyway.” he started putting away his Octo-compass back onto his belt. Dashi nodded, clicking the off button on the camera. “Sounds excellent, Captain,” she said as they walked over to the chute, which the Captain jumped in. She followed in after him, whooping a little as she was launched down.

When she entered the kitchen/dining area of the garden pod, almost everyone was seated, except for Shellington. Dashi was… mildly curious why he wasn’t present. She grasped a plate from the end of the table, getting some fish biscuits and some kelp cakes. There were some clam sandwiches, too. As she sat down, she asked, “Where’s Shellington?”. Kwazii was the one who answered her. “He be researchin’... somethin’. He be real vague,” Kwazii shrugged, “But he hasn’t been comin’ up for meals for a day or two,” he said. Dashi knew her concern was apparent with her expression. “Th’ vegimals have been taking him stuff,” Tweak added. “Oh, that’s good.” Dashi remarked.

Peso and Kwazii ended up chatting about something or another and everyone else jutted in with their own remarks, though Dashi wasn’t really paying attention. She was concerned for Shellington–sure, he seemed like the type to get obsessed and obsessively research something–, but not even coming out of his lab to eat for a long period of time? It was… mildly concerning at best. She noticed the vegimals were walking off with a plate, and she stopped them. “Tunip, do you mind if I take Shellington his food today?” Tunip tilted his head in confusion for a moment, then nodded, placing the plate back. Dashi finished up, put her plate in the sink, and grabbed Shellington’s.

Detective work was usually Koshi’s gig, though Dashi figured she’d have to temporarily do it today.

Jumping down the Octo-chute, food in hand and hair bouncing, she landed in the main hall. She raised an eyebrow—the door to Shellington’s lab wasn’t usually closed.

#yes its a cliffhanger #also merry christmas/happy holidays #octonauts peso #octonauts #octonauts kwazii #fanfic #captain barnacles #octonauts dashi #octonauts tweak #octonauts shellington #sorry theres no art this time i didnt have time to

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