#also i feel the need to mention amongst my plushies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

socheckitout-mikey · 2 years ago

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heey y’all! (‘: i don’t usually write smut, but this was a request from my old blog. it’s taken my ass like deadass three years to write it. ik it’s super long and i got carried away, but i’m proud bc i haven’t written smut in a very long time. originally it was meant to be semi nsfw but i went the whole nine yards instead!

also i’d like to give credit to @brideofcthulhu10 for helping me with this one. she helped co-write the beginning, whilst also giving me amazing pointers and keeping me on track when it came to marko’s character. so deffo give her blog a look through bc she’s such an amazing writer! <3333 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(GIF credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs)

Title: The Dilemma

Pairings: Marko x Fem!Reader

Summary: As any high-school senior, end of year exams encroach upon you, which results in your disappearance from the infamous Boardwalk. Marko, your vampiric boyfriend, feels awfully neglected and sees the strain that boring old studying is causing you. After being a gigantic nuisance in your time of need, Marko decides to aid you with your dilemma by getting you to to unwind. An innocent massage turns to much more. (READER IS 18/19 YEARS OLD IN THIS PIECE!!!)

Word count: 9,916

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD SO 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!! READER IS 18/19 IN THIS PIECE!!! Anxiety, angst, mentions of tension with parents, mentions of reader throwing things at Marko (mainly bc he scared her and also a plushie), established relationship, argument, make out session, massage, oral (female receiving), sexual content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, marking, depictions of blood, blood drinking/feeding and Marko being a sex God v.v Lemme know if I missed anything.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Finals had encroached upon you and the rest of your senior class like a throttling bitter conclusion. An immense pressure had settled upon your slumped shoulders in a complex manner. It all gave you an uproarious migraine. Perched upon those shoulders of yours was a Devil and an Angel, reciting an exhausting, unanimous monologue you had encountered fervently with frustration and exhaustion for the past few weeks. The Devil enumerated vividly about how the stress of hunching over your books would only cause your spine to permanently warp, whilst grey hairs would prematurely appear on your head. It whispered of the sincere notion that you would be able to seek vehement pleasure by kicking back and relaxing with your boyfriend Marko; who currently laid sprawled out against your cushiony pink covers in an absurdly bored fashion behind you. He was the poster child of, “Are you finished yet?”

His only purpose was to grate on your nerves that much more viciously.

The Angel held up its own assertive chant with the utmost conviction. A soothing lullaby that frankly lulled you into boring hibernation, as if you were a grizzly bear entering its cave for the tundric winter months to come. You were well aware that it spoke of knowledge, reason and logic. The qualities that were dwindling — yet with its vibrant torch, it led the way to the future you so desperately had dreamed of since you were in middle school: A good job meant a good home, and so the domino effect would hopefully follow you in a cascading positive effect. Yet passing wasn’t everything, right? Well, the Angels’ lustrous song seemed to disrupt the already choppy sea wrecking the ships in your mind, pointing the way to salvation. However, you felt as though the Devil latched on, shoving you under the bartering force that the School District whipped into your back. You were merely a slave to the formidable system.

And thus the Angel and Devil fought their daunting battle amongst who could lead you quicker to each destination they desired for you to propel towards. The truth of the matter was that there was no balance within the chaos. You either went all in or did nothing at all. You were only battling with the Yin and Yang within you, but you didn't quite realise that. You needed someone else to obtain that truth and light it up in a firework festival. That someone was unfortunately your bouncing boyfriend Marko.

The sudden weight upon your tired shoulders felt like an angsty teen drama — unbearable. They slumped down with a force as you looked at the Math equations before you with contempt. Your mind was playing tricks on you because now the algebra seemed to be written in some bizarre language you swore was only known by extraterrestrials. Never had you experienced such affliction quite so potent in all of your young years of living until this very moment in time. High school, fortunately, had come and gone like the spring’s floral breeze, allowing for the stuffy summer heat to bound through the atmosphere like a blundering bull in a China shop. Great, now you were sweating too.

Despite your immortal boyfriend, Marko, having intermittently insisted that you hadn’t needed the extra education, you had graciously swung your bat in a conflicting vicious fashion. Your battered old baseball had leapt its last journey, landing into the lap of a comfortable Community College here in Santa Carla. Your original aim and hope had been to apply for greener pastures, such as the university in the nearest plush city. Yet you knew it was too far away from the Boardwalk. Your painfully vampiric boyfriend would kick up a putrid stink at the mere notion of you being so far away. Especially since daytime already kept you both apart, creating such a colourful apprehension to course through your very mortal veins.

You’d miss Marko too much as well, and slumming it under your bed in the dorm room all day and night just wouldn’t cut it. It wasn’t going to be the ideal move for any party involved. Familiar sunny Santa Carla would just have to do before you surfed your last wave, ticketing you straight to The Immortality Club.

“College?!” Marko sputtered out like a dying steam engine.

His hazel eyes blinked several times in absolute bewilderment as his body froze. The brown fuzzy teddy bear he had been carelessly chucking up and down in the air in a mindless fashion missed his right hand entirely. Its furry, soft backside flopped with a tender bounce atop his chest.

“Why would you go back to school baby?” He inquired desperately, “You’re already done.” His words hung in the air, thick like an uncomfortable smog riddled with consternation.

His nimble fingers swatted the bear off of him and he sat up straighter than a plank. The tender plush bounced off of your floorboards, tumbling into your open closet.

The same fingers suddenly danced restlessly to your dusty, cluttered nightstand where he aimed for that prized purple pen with the fluffy pom-pom dotted on the end of it: His digits fiddled with it fruitlessly, eyebrows creased together. Boy was he all sorts of twitchy tonight since boredom had taken hold of him by the balls. He felt as though he was going crazy. Especially with the apprehension at your announcement to further your needless education. Who needed books and crammed study sessions when you could be a youthful undead being for the rest of eternity? You’d never grow old, never die — this was a total blessing sitting right in your lap! Yet you shoved it off to the side without another thought. All of the previous discussions you’d had with him about turning meant nothing to you now, or so it seemed. Poofing into thin air, therefore to Marko, it meant you’d been replaced by some other worldly ghost that reeked of crippled anxiety; which, by the way, was akin to the rotting scent of death itself.

He had lazily propped himself against the headboard of your bed now, eyes not meetings yours — almost as if he were too meek to look up at you. He already knew the answer to his question from interpreting the blurry, chaotic dance of your thoughts rattling in your brittle skull. One more thought and your head would come blowing off! After all, he’d also noticed that physically you were in a frenzied stupor of stress and inner turmoil. You reeked of palpable insecurity and rotting angst, just like a teenage drama on screen. Blegh! It caused the blond boy to crinkle his hooked nose wryly, warping his angelic gestures.

Part of the reason why Marko alluded to the opportunity of peering up at you was due to the simple fact that his visit had come to be a frightening ordeal on your behalf. One that led to an abundant earful of curses and a book to have been launched at him — almost knocking his head clean off his shoulders. Right, you had the reflexes of a rabid raccoon startled by a rat when you were snuck up on. He knew better than to do such a thing. Luckily he had ducked just in time, smartly remarking that you should have gone for sports instead. He regretted the witty quip instantly by the displeased look on your face. So he was cast upon your frilly bed to pass the time like a woeful jester sentenced to imprisonment for not having entertained his Queen accordingly. The tragedy of it all!

And although you were aggravated at his unexpected visit — more salty over the fact he’d frightened you —, you did not have the slightest of hearts to kick him out. It felt too heart wrenching for you to do so. In fact, it was like kicking a stray kitten out into the rain. His damn bulbous eyes whenever you’d get close to the notion would appear like round, quivering rain drops — the pupils heavily swallowing the earthy iris. So you sighed instead, turning back to your work whilst Marko made himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as his bored self would permit.

“I don’t want just a job, Marko.” You muttered irately under your breath from over your complex Math equations that were scrawled in their dreadful chicken scratch language upon gridded paper.

“I want a career! I wanna hone a craft.” You explained further with a nonchalant wave of your wrist. Your tone was curt, attempting to balance out his boredom that apparently began to increase the longer he remained there.

You paid no heed to his insistence, scribbling your notes with a vengeance for the paper you carved it into.

“That’s what I mean though,” Marko huffed out a hefty sigh, sitting up straight suddenly with his legs criss-crossed in a half lotus position. “Why do you need to work, anyway? Just one bite and BAM! All your problems would be gone, baby doll. I keep tellin’ ya!” He exclaimed animatedly, hands thrown up in the air in his own heated and wondrous stupor.

He’d even get David to teach you how to use compulsion so you could get whatever you wanted. It was so pathetically simple! He wondered now if you’d hit your head recently to have forgotten the simplicities of becoming a vampire. No stress would ensue, so long as you abided but the rules. Why couldn’t you just see that?

“Hush! I’ve already made up my mind about this. You’re not going to change it!” You quipped back sharply, grabbing a rusty coloured stuffed cat from your messy desk and hurled it half heartedly in his direction for the second time that night.

Damn, you really did mean business tonight.

The plushie cat managed (miraculously may I add) to bounce tenderly off of the side of his perky blond curls. A low laugh escaped from his sharp mouth. He was well aware by now that you were only attempting to push him away due to the draining stress of academics. The prospect of taking things too personally had been going really swell up until this point. He wasn’t going to afford himself to buckle now like he would from anyone else. Afterall, any other person who launched two objects at him would be decapitated and dead at his musty booted feet. You were getting off easy by a mile in comparison. You didn’t even know how much Divine Intervention had spared you at this point.

So instead he untangled his thin legs from their half lotus position, swinging them off the edge of the bed as he observed you nervously wind your fingers through your hair — tugging slightly at the roots in vexation. The sight made him feel sympathy for you, a feeling that was nearly completely foreign to someone like him. It caused his dead stomach to knot and twist uncomfortably because he just wanted to lend you a helping hand. He just wasn’t sure how he could. School work wasn’t exactly his forte and all, being as he never acquired much of an education when he was a kid at the end of the last century. Nevertheless, he was your boyfriend and boyfriends had to take care of their girlfriends, right?

With a defeated sigh, Marko pressed his strong palms on his knees and found the sudden energy to get to his feet. His chunky boots clunked noisily on the ground, an incessant irritance to you. It made your body visibly cringe in your chair with each step he took. It was as though he was dropping bricks of led onto the ground. Your boyfriend, lost in his own deep thoughts, remained oblivious, wandering aimlessly to your bookshelf in search of something to cure his doldrum. The shelves were coated in a peculiar thin layer of dust, a dead giveaway that you had not kept this space to its usual tidiness. His inquisitive fingers collected the fluffy debris similar to dust bunnies on the tips before swiftly rubbing them together, which disintegrated his fuzzy pals into mere nothingness.

‘Damn, when was the last time you cleaned this place?’ He thought. It wasn’t like you to just allow things to collect dust. At this rate, you’d end up having your own personal Cave that Marko didn’t want a hand in helping you clean.

His pesky touch ventured along, dancing across the spines of old tattered novels aged well with love. Reading wasn’t really his style, but he supposed he didn’t mind it when he’d lounge in your lap like a cat, bathing in the stark silver moonlight whilst you read ‘The Outsiders’ to him late into the night. The accents you pulled off were enjoyable, a husky hushed twang so your parents wouldn’t hear. You always did a spanking job at Matt Dillons’ Dallas Winston. He couldn’t help but snort at the times you’d tear up during said character’s devastating death. It had alarmed Marko the first time it had happened. Now he only ever teased you about it, equipped with the ability to wipe your tears away and give you a moment to settle before continuing. He enjoyed those memories a lot.

Marko’s marvellously silver tongue clicked in his mouth liberally to an unordinary beat he’d plucked out of thin air from many moons ago. It did nothing but sourly distract you from your work. Your body tense once more, knee jerking in a wild bouncing fashion, knocking the underside of your desk in time with his clacking tune. You chewed your pencil menacingly, the brittle wood splintering slightly in your mouth. It made astounding practice for future inevitable victims. Perhaps the School Board would be your first ones.

Still, the more you travelled down the mental highway, you felt nothing but guilt at the thought of kicking Marko out. Recalled his disheartened countenance that struck his handsome features at the mere inkling of casting him out into the bewitched humid night.

Just when you thought you’d lost your mind enough, Marko flicked the power switch of your radio as if on purpose. The speakers screamed to life, blaring out the belting introduction of You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. The precipitous noisy intrusion throttled into the air, shocking your eardrums. It scared the living daylights out of you for the second time that night! Marko’s mouth spread into a harmless grin, mouthing the lyrics with the utmost enthusiasm; his hands scrambling to his abdomen to begin shredding on the gnarliest air guitar he could muster. His head and body hopped comfortably along to the hypnotic drum beat and flourishing bass, floating up on a mouthwatering guitar riff and husky vocals to die for. Edgy.

As if possessed by a formidable spirit, you whipped around in your seat, eyes wild with offence. All of the equations behind you were now abandoned. You were giving Marko the look that could surely kill even an immortal. He seemed to be on another planet, too deep in the rock n’ roll blaring boisterously from your speakers to take note of your inconvenience.

Prompted by a supernatural sixth sense, the curly blond turned to look at you — an honest inquiry over whether his air guitar appeared better than Paul’s ready on the tongue. It’s life, a premature one, slid back down his throat and into his voice box. Realisation hit him when the usual mischief in his facial expression fled his countenance entirely. He mimicked that of a child being told off by its raging mother.

“Oops!” His lips mouthed, turning off the radio instantly.

The stark silence built thickly in the air, only allowing the remaining orchestra of cicada’s outside to be heard. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that vein in your forehead bulging with every beat of your galloping heart.

“Sorry babe.” He stated sheepishly, hands held up in surrender by his head.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” You gritted out twice, more for your benefit the second time around.

As if to solidify a semblance of being non-combative, you held your hands up on either side of your head. A silent plea for Marko to cooperate with your simple boundaries.

Perhaps he wasn’t entirely sorry about it, but that didn’t matter if you didn’t know it. Though with the way you tried not to glower at him, he understood, without a doubt, that you were more than aware he was only half apologetic. After all, he was fuelled by a thick smog of boredom, which only forced unease to burst from him like the flames of Hell. Nevertheless, he watched you with his widened gaze before settling on your bed once more. A couple more hours wouldn’t kill him, right?

“Just don’t touch anything, okay? As soon as I get through the rest of this chapter, maybe we can watch a movie together.” You suggested through gritted teeth.

An inkling of hope dawned across Marko’s features like The Gates of Heaven had opened for him. It felt like the sun was warming his ice cold flesh, the fuzzy memory from his mortal life in 1901 came to fruition in his mind. Refreshing to say the least. His back inched higher, attempting to obtain a good look at your bulky textbook.

“How much ya got left?”

You hummed, pondering whilst your stiff aching fingers thumbed the pages. It was an entire wad. Marko’s heart rocketed into the old floorboards under his feet, and he hung his head in existential dread. You wouldn’t even be finished by sun up.

“About half a chapter,” you commented with hope, but to him it was all a charlatan’s sham.

“Yeah, yeah okay…” he mumbled, cast to the cushiony abode of your bed.

The ambience of the room settled back to the mind numbing pace of planned study sessions. His only two forms of escape were to either cast himself into a premature sleep or leave without you noticing. Both were tempting. Nevertheless, he remained there, paralysed with indecision.

Soon misery encased him, your plush bed and messy surroundings incapable of quenching his need for attention. A sour trance gathered deep within his undead soul. Blasé eyes analysed the way that you seemed to slightly settle in your seat. The scratching of pencil on paper overcame the atmosphere like a thick infestation of utter disinterest. Though he wasn’t alluded by the fact your muscles were still taut underneath your baggy black shirt and baby blue pyjama shorts. The sight made him pity you once more, because you were slaving away.

Suddenly a nagging urge told him to just burn all of your textbooks so he could have his damn girlfriend back!

From his stance on the bed, he noted that complex algebra was what you were studying: The sight made his stomach twist sickly and his head throb, because with Paul rotting his brain ninety percent of the time, Marko couldn’t even recall what 2+2 equaled.

Eventually his patience wore thin.

“Babe, how long have you been studying?” He finally broke the long silence. A casual air to his tone.

Marko rested his elbows upon his knees with a hunched back once he sat up; unconsciously mirroring you. Fixated on your entire being. It was almost humorous the way you seemed to sink further into your stressful work with every equation you tortured yourself to complete. The inclination both distressed and astonished him. This wasn’t like you at all. In fact, he was willing to bet that you’d been switched out by a government clone provided by the CIA with the way you were acting. You despised math!

When was the last time you had taken a damn break? When was this ever going to end? Were you ever not going to throw ginger stuffed cats at him? God forbid if he had to endure you worrying when your exams were all said and done. If you so much as breathed a damn fear towards the notion of not passing, he was going to lose his damn mind.

It was almost nearing the mark of an entire month since you’d made your typical appearance at the Boardwalk. An unusual occurrence in itself. It had worried him to begin with, especially since it had occurred out of the blue. No notion communicated whatsoever of your educational predicament. Marko was usually rather patient with you, however, since he hadn’t ever exactly attended school himself (or graduated for that matter), he was honestly struggling to relate to the importance of it all. Good grades and whimsical desires to attend college didn’t hold the same meaning to him as it did to you. It frankly just sounded like a damn fairytale.

In fact, the whole ordeal just was a major waste of time to him. Afterall, he held the potent magic of immortality in the palms of his hands; brandished like the forbidden fruit that Adam himself consumed. There were sneaky tricks and enchanting gifts that he — along with every vampire — possessed. All that temptation didn’t seem to tickle your fancy in the current moment. Marko couldn��t deny the truth that if it (college) made you happy in the long run, he didn’t have the heart to cut in and stop you. He wanted you to be content at the end of the day. So long as you also cared about his happiness too. It didn’t really feel like you did — not with you pushing him away like he was some diseased fleabag.

“Uuuuhhmmmm shit,” you began with a flourishing fluster encapsulating your countenance. You used the end of your chewed up pencil to scratch the side of your head vigorously, “I dunno, three days?” You shrugged.

It sounded as if you were asking him for clarification, but Marko sat there just as clueless and waiting for your answer.

To be completely transparent, that was only a guesstimate thrown to the stuffy air with no refreshing breeze to carry it away from you. You were utterly fried; all for very different reasons. Meals consisted of take-out or quick instant snacks so the remnants could be discarded easily. You went from a daily shower to one every three days; dishes had been piled up so high in your sink, because you didn’t possess the luxury known as time: All until your mother lost her mind and dove in infuriatingly to maintain downstairs her spotless domain. Completing these simple tasks designed to keep your living quarters in order were overwhelming now.

Marko wasn’t the only one feeling the absence of your chipper presence. As just mentioned, your dutiful mother took up your chores to accomplish with disgruntled agitation, because she had limited time too. Yet no matter how much she may have resented you currently, she found some compassion for you in your final weeks as a senior highschool student. She took it with a badge of silence, but you felt that heavy churning of guilt in your gut whenever she would impulsively huff and puff through the thin walls, as well as slam cupboards shut. Nothing went unnoticed by you, but it drove you further into the disorganised abode of unrelenting chaos. You were just glad your parents were out on a weekend trip. Sweet silence was yours.

Escaping was all you wanted to do. Yet you were bound to your desk by a hefty chain around your ankle with the belief that if you failed, you’d have let everyone around you down. There was so much pressure riding on your back that it felt unbearably hot. Scalding tears burnt the corners of your eyes and you fought to wipe them away with two quick slaps to your cheeks.

Oh how you missed the Boardwalk desperately! Longing for the nights out with Marko where the oceanic droplets dotted your skin when you paraded down it on his metallic steed. They seemed so far away now, so out of touch that you could barely recall what it felt like to be nestled in the musty, dusty caverns where the boy’s home sat within. Those nights were always fun, riddled with a peculiar perception of time that made them feel as though they went on forever. Frankly, you missed him and his brothers. However, even though you did, you couldn’t afford to burn out. If you could just squeeze out a little more, then maybe you could manage to get through with a hair length left of energy and patience.

Like a precariously challenging puzzle, the pieces finally clicked into place in Marko’s nifty skull. A lightbulb dinged over his head, illuminating everything around him and he saw things with virgin eyes. Once that had occurred, the relief he experienced was knocked viciously out of the way and replaced by a worry that he never had felt before. You’d always been splendid at managing yourself in a healthy manner. Balancing and pacing yourself was a natural instinct you possessed, crafted into an art during the academic year. Marko had sat back comfortably up until this point, just taking it all for granted, because you’d always been so self-reliant.

Yet as he stared at you from across your bedroom intently, he began to take note of the little differences surrounding you both. The space was riddled with disorganisation as its main theme, messiness spread out in all of its glory. A large pile of dirty clothes lay in the left corner of your room, making him silently plead with the universe that your socks wouldn’t start crawling out towards him with a mind of their own. Your pink bed covers he was perched upon weren’t made in their usual neat style; that stupid desk you had yourself rooted in front of was clumped together in a marinade of dirty food containers, pens, pencils and papers. A giant teetering tower of jagged books to the right looked ominous and shaky to him. The trash can beside it was overflowing with a cornucopia of crumpled bits of paper that looked as if Jason himself had hacked at them with his own chainsaw! What in the hell was going on with you?

“You shouldn’t sweat the exams, babe.” Marko stated without much of a rational thought.

The gratuitous comment seemed to startle you to austere stillness. Similar to a cat who’d grown enraged, frightened as its fur and tail zapped with pulsing electricity. Your aura resembled the frizzy taut hairs of said feline friend; and your head whipped to the side so viciously that it struck a literal nerve, causing your vision to blur. Paying little mind to the agony of the nauseating feeling, you pressed on.

“What!?” You seethed through tightly gritted teeth. You were a festering beast. All the chipped pieces of fragile pottery you’d held together shattered. Patience was no longer your virtue.

Acting on impulse, Marko��s fingerless gloved hands sprang to the sides of his head once more, eyebrows raised. You really needed to chill out.

“Damn, hear me out!” He started, a little heat behind his words.

He was frankly pretty tired of the onslaught you shoved onto him. You were beginning to yank him into the depths of your own anguish. He never swung that way initially, but you were spoiling his night that had started off perfectly fine, thank you very much.

“All that I meant by that was you’re the smartest person I know, babe. You’ve passed everything so far. There’s no way you’re failin’ anything!” His words had intended to diffuse the bomb he’d set up from his previous comment.

Reassurance was what you needed right? Wrong. It only seemed to spread the shrapnel and vibrant inferno swirling violently within you. A snort dispelled,, forcing you to drop your pencil on your notebook. Disbelief rattled your expression, the fuse to a TNT’s detonator had been slammed down staunchly and rage encompassed you over the smallest of things.

“Yeah, like you know what it’s like to have all this pressure on your shoulders. You just bum around the Cave like you’re a damn king without a care in the world! The most you have to worry about is whether you get David the right kind of take-out when Michael’s lazing on the bed next to Star!”

The words were haughty, sturdy ammunition pelting Marko to a mushy pulp. The worst part was that you’d turned your back on him when you’d said it. Honing in on your unreasonable point. The world didn’t just revolve around you, you know.

There was a flicker of irritation that blossomed like a breathtakingly fiery rose in his chest. Hot electricity pulsed his eyes alight, though as soon as the burning rage had appeared, Marko settled it with a deep breath. Right, you were his girlfriend, he couldn’t kill you like some blundering drunk Surf Nazi. No matter how much of a raging bitch you were being right now.

A few minutes sauntered by, a tense silence stretching with its thick tendrils that imbedded themselves in your throat. Realisation hit you square in the chest and you dug the heels of your hands into your sore, closed eyes harshly at the thought of how stupid you were being.

“Shit! I’m so sorry.” There was a denseness to your tone, shame blanketing it like a sugar coated donut. If only it felt as sweet.

“Nah, don’t sweat it, babes!” Marko released with a heavy sigh, a passive manner taking over him. It wasn’t hard to do.

Afterall, the anger had been shaken out of every dead cell in his body. He lifted a cool hand, his fingers burying in his blond licks and pushing them out of his eyes, a simple motion that soothed him slightly.

“No, it’s not not!” You sighed out, tipping your head back in your wooden chair till it teetered a bit. You stared dreadfully up at the ceiling with bitter contempt. “I hate this! I hate all of this studying. If I look at one more number I’m gonna commit arson on the school so I don’t have to take my exam on Monday morning!”

“You know that can be arranged for you with the help of Paul and I? ” Marko grinned at you, the prospect of putting all this incessant studying to a grand halt really tickled his fancy; whether you were being serious or not.

“Not funny!”

“What? You wouldn’t be connected. Scouts honour, babes.”

Though from the expression you were giving him, Marko was certain that attempting to pull jokes with you so soon wasn’t in anyone’s best interests just yet. Not when you were wound up so tight. However there was the beginning of a smile working on the edges of your beautiful lips. It settled the tension a little.

“There’s my girl!” He replied proudly, patting his gloved hands on the thighs of his jeans habitually.

Suddenly another lightbulb moment zinged its fluorescent rays above his head. Jackpot! He knew exactly what you needed to relax. He did, afterall, have magical hands that were perfect for massaging. A little TLC and you’d be well oiled enough to snuggle with him as you both watched a movie. Just a little loving was all he wanted — he missed you.

Like a golden sleek mountain lion with prey locked in its predatory gaze, Marko crept stealthily towards you on surprisingly light feet with his paws out. Ready for the kill. Those icy digits were immediately welcomed by your clammy hot skin, and your affliction seemed to melt away in the heat of the humid air. This was precisely the reaction Marko had imagined in his wondrously gruesome noggin.

To begin with, you seemed tense at the idea of his touch gone foreign from the lack of his familiar presence. Frustration mixed with guilt at your own pitiful past actions as a girlfriend. The stress was making you crack on so many levels. His touch was comforting despite the fact your shoulders made a subtle attempt at shaking him off. Yet he had a firm hold on you — certainly not enough to cause harm. What didn’t he understand about this entire ordeal? This was extremely important to you. His candid words rung in your ears, a gong gone off to begin the journey of relaxation and release of pent up frustrations.

“You gotta take a break. Even just for five minutes.” He echoed your already persuaded thoughts. A wispy coo, hypnotic in nature.

You were incapable of resistance to his powerful abilities he reserved specifically for times such as these. Sure he wasn’t David, but Marko knew how to pull someone as stubborn as you into his lane, wrestling them into a relaxed submission of chill time. Damn him and his undead powers!

His fingers were possessed by black magic — working at the sore, aching muscles that had become strained by impeccably poor posture and a lack of necessary exercise. You lacked both the hefty bark and bite to fight him, it had disappeared with the energy and motivation to engage in anyone or anything other than what was currently going on in the present moment. Temptation wanted you to reap the rewards of Marko’s skilful ministrations. You swiftly ushered into the realm of utter selfishness, leaning into his touch wantonly the moment his pesky long appendages massaged down your shoulders in a taut yet tender fashion. A wince escaped your lips once he worked on a specific knot. You stirred and twitched in the seat like it had become unbearably hot.

With your face bunched up, a moan entailing slight anguish fluttered past your lips, Marko eased up on said spot, focusing on another area.

“Atta girl,” He grinned, “Relax…” an angelic whisper crept into your ear.

He sounded hypnotic, binding you under his blissful spell of ease. Though it was that specific spot in your sore muscles that caused you irritation. Marko left it happily because he’d worked the majority of it out. Now his long, thin fingers padded at the balls of your shoulders, solace in nature before returning up the valley of your neck for the second time. He simpered subconsciously to himself in a victorious fashion the moment you went completely lax under his touch. A pleasurable surrender to his beck and call. Your arms went limp, resembling the feeling and look of overcooked spaghetti. The rear of the chair and Marko’s light, yet secure grip on you were the only two things that kept you upright. There was an immature smugness to his motions that you could practically feel engraved into you.

“You like that?” There was audacity for him to whisper it against the soft shell of your ear. Such a seductive note.

Your response came to him through another throaty groan of approval and a swift, gentle nod of your head. So subtle that for a moment, he wondered if he’d dreamt up the consensual physical action entirely.

Mischief purchased him, a long lost friend. Sharp teeth nicked the delicate flesh of your earlobe, mouth finding a mind of their own to trail down the side of your neck. The feverish pulsepoint he’d grown to know well was peppered in an onslaught — each kiss and nip purposeful. Melting like the ice caps into his touch, the Devil suddenly pulled away after taking a step back. Your back was held up by the chair entirely. A pout formed your precious mouth, head tilted towards him. Your half hooded eyes unveiled a cheeky sight indeed: He was smirking with that Cheshire grin he was so renowned for. Not to mention that he’d propped himself like royalty on the edge of the bed, his head cocked to the side in amusement.

“What? You want more?” An arrogance wafted from him, sent on the hot summer breeze.

He knew you were hooked by the way you turned in your chair to finally acknowledge him fully. “Then c’mere.” He said simply, patting his lap.

Rising from your chair was methodical. Lots of attention had to be put into moving your stiff limbs almost gone numb from being in the same position for god knows how long. Yet you padded over to your awaiting throne, straddling his waist boldly. Hands floated to your hips, squeezing them longingly, and as if bound under his hypnotic spell from earlier, you found his lips in a mixture of rushed passion and want. Marko was cool, hanging back and letting you explore the excitement you’d been starving for for weeks. He was just happy to go along for the ride, seeing where it took you both. This wasn’t so much about him as it was about you.

Your tongue intruded his mouth, a sudden willingness to become as close to him as physically possible. He beckoned beneath you, chest tightening with the giddiness that felt oh so good to experience. Teeth nipped at your lower lip, a yearning to eventually get at the crimson liquid buried beneath your thin, delicate skin was intricate but controlled. Taunting and malicious hands wandered, pushing beneath fabric to clutch at the supple flesh of your breasts. You pulled apart for a breath, a gasp of alluring surprise fluttering from your mouth. Marko chuckled against the flesh of your delicate throat — not missing the sultry glow having engulfed you. It now permeated towards him. Frustration could be played out in more than one way, which he was happy to do.

The black tee you’d been sporting came over your head in a single tug, cast to the floor with his mix-matched jacket and crop top. He admired the rise and fall of your bare breasts, highlighted in the moonlight — embarrassing you in the way he deemed was the cutest. Yet he made no move towards influencing your next moves. Instead the icy tips of his fingers tickled up your sides, ghosted along your spine to entice goosebumps. Your gaze settled on his beautiful flesh , fair and adorned with muscles beneath his strong skin. He made your mouth water, the washboard abs and the strength that came from him in more than just the physical aspect set you on fire. Your staring amused him. Were you still too shy to touch despite this having happened in times gone by? He was all yours. There was no need for meaningless delays. The inevitable was bound to occur. You might as well just meet him in the middle.

Your warm fingertips settled upon his sturdy chest whilst you mounted him. A delicious expression of your needs being met flashed across your angelic features, but your lips twisted into such a devilish smirk. Some would title you as a promiscuous nymph, tantalisingly rocking your hips back and forth — creating much needed friction. Marko’s fingers smoothed up your sides, his own breath flustered out of his lungs. Yet he just watched you, hazel eyes deepening from the dilation of his pupils. A hunter was being fed under your seductive spell. Such a horny, pretty thing you were, rutting against him like a desperate bitch in heat. It caused amusement to tickle his senses, because he knew this wouldn’t suffice enough of your needs. Witnessed it dawn frustratingly upon your countenance. You needed more. You wanted more.

“Atta girl.” He winked, grinning impishly up at you. A seductive golden halo flowed from his head as he laid there admiring you.

Before long, his patience wore thin. His back arched upwards then, lips trailing along the swell of your sensitive breasts. They glistened deliciously with sweat in the moonlight, inviting his tongue to taste the salty liquid. You sighed, hips faltering, thwarting your efforts to get off. A pathetic whimper of dissatisfaction escaped you, rumbling in your chest. He felt it against his sinful tongue, sucking sweet little marks into your skin. And silently, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging down gently. You manuevred yourself over him, eager to get any remaining clothes off and have him take control. You never knew what to expect with him, which was all the more exciting. Yet all he did was clasp his lips around your right nipple, suckling on it firmly, though not enough to hurt. His teeth nipped at it, tugging ever so slightly in the way you always approved — all whilst he stared up at you. Man was he a tease.

As soon as it had started, the pleasure ceased. Gone in the blink of an eye. You stared down at your boyfriend, your hips twirling in rebellion. Already you were quivering, at his mercy whilst your fingers tangled in his beautifully curly locks.

“What?” He inquired with an innocent tilt to his head.

Distinct symptoms of embarrassment clouded your features — your skin felt hot. The only thing you could do was nip your swollen bottom lip and draw your eyebrows together in the centre. So cute. Why was he doing this? It was simple, he wanted to.

“Hmmm? Use your big girl words, baby.” He added with a breathy laugh meant to mock you. His large palms smoothed against the softest parts of your body reassuringly.

You gulped, throat dry and hoarse. Your hips rutted on his hardened cock concealed beneath the rough denim. It’s roughness dampened by your sopping cunt. You whimpered as he guided your hips, looking hungrier than ever. Silently pleading for him to touch you the way you loved it the most. However, he did not play into these silent games. You knew that, but it was always worth a try. Sometimes he was forgiving and lenient. Tonight he seemed to be holding back, admiring your handiwork until you begged him with delirium to give you what you wanted.

“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me. Hmm?” He cooed up at you.

“I want more,” you began pitifully, eyes unable to meet his heavy gaze.

“More of what?” He was milking this, enjoying the way you twitched.

“More of you.” As if that could answer his blatantly insistent inquiry. Yet before he could open his mouth to prod further, you’d beaten him to the punch, “I want your mouth.”

A diabolical sexy grin spread across his face. Sharp pearly whites glinted in the argent glow menacingly, but only for show. To intimidate you into the correct position. The air in your lungs caught in your throat at the sight, forcing you to shiver. He was going to force you into helplessness with your limbs unable to hold you up afterwards, all accompanied with a mushy mind with him at the centre of it. Duties and resilient responsibilities were a thing of the past. Well, at least for tonight. What you were asking him for was something he was more than qualified to provide. A god-like tongue that made your head spin in a volatile tornado and your thighs squeeze deliciously around his head. The thought began thawing out the embarrassment coiled in your gut and latched into your flesh like barbed coils. Marko managed to pull them out effortlessly and painlessly. Thus, fueled by a fire in his own belly, he flipped you over at the flick of a finger. The cool sheets beneath you were welcomed because of the clammy air. The wind momentarily knocked out of you due to a lustre of giddiness. You laid there, breathless and bothered, watching him slither down your body like a ravenous serpent. Attentive nips and open mouthed kisses pressed along the way. You sighed with contentment, legs parting to fit him between them.

Gazes locked, he pressed your legs up towards your chest, spreading you open for him. There was little you could do to hide from him. His strong palms prevented such a shameful sin, the tips of his blunt nails digging into the supple backs of your thighs. The sting welcomed by you. Vulnerability was nowhere to be found — not even in your fuzzy brain. He liked it better that way. You were entirely enthralled by impulses and senses. The events of earlier ancient history he didn’t want to revisit any time soon. Wanton desire encompassed you. He’d incinerated all feelings of abashment from your being. You were tainted with a bold desperation. A one track mind that only Marko could read and satisfy.

“Just relax…” He breathed against the tender skin of your inner thigh. You could entrust him with this.

When he dove in, he had the enthusiasm of a starved man. The tip of his wet flickering appendage swiped your folds. Once, twice and a third time. On and on it went. The taste of you was salty yet sweet, the perfect addictive combination. You were perfect underneath him, letting his pretty gratified tongue serve blessings upon your clit. Faster and faster he adored you, suckling and nipping upon your sensitive bundle of nerves at the right intervals. It was all so perfect. Driving you further and further up the edge. You squealed under his onslaught, chest rising and falling as if possessed. Your limbs shook, eyes rolling into the rear of your frazzled skull. Yeah, you’d finally escaped. All of your inconsequential concerns fled from your body whilst you pushed Marko further into your sex. It was pathetic as you wantonly moaned his name, a repetitive mantra. So pitiful in fact that your hips rocked against his tongue, the tip of his nose catching your clit. Marko was just happy to drown in you. Your sticky essence dripping down his chin. All he could do was lap up what you offered, and none of it went to waste.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!” You heaved into the clammy air, your eyes bleary by now.

Just one more stripe and he was going to ruin you.

You tumbled from heaven, rocketing down to Earth. Your descent imploring delirium. The ability to quit shaking was nowhere to be found. There was Marko, parting from your folds in a sticky and panting mess. His predator instincts lit aflame like a match in the dark, all because of your erratic heartbeat that had been palpitating under his skillful onslaught. You smelled so superbly delicious it made him delirious, rough hands settled on either side of your head to trap you in the cage he put you in. His glowing yellow eyes and slightly warbled features should have terrified you, yet they did not. You felt a love for the monster that mirrored your feelings in his own, demonic entirety. Your fingers were lazy, ghosting the tips upon his protruded brow bone. Despite his monstrosity, his features morphed back to that of a human’s with your enduring patience. A glow remaining in his perky eyes — an ardent aura surrounded the beast. Calloused fingers smoothed away the stray hairs to your face uncomfortably with sweat. Couldn’t stop the grin that came about from you looking so lost in your thoughts. You were fucked out already and he’d barely even begun. He decided then that he could’ve stared at you like this forever, because not a thought outside of him remained in your head. That’s what he appreciated the most. No competitions, just you and him. That’s all that was yearned for.

Lips crashed together, though your fight for dominance was easily overthrown by Marko, his pesky fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. He rolled them between his fingers. A surge of gratitude took over you, hummed right into his mouth. Teeth gnashed together, it was heated, fueled by an endless amount of passion. Oh you were driving him crazy. Your hands fiercely clutched onto his strong shoulders, nails digging into the soft cool flesh of them. You were lost fully in the reality of ecstasy. Disoriented from the notion that once you started, you didn’t want it to stop. He was the incubus that tainted you, and he too could not stop himself from damning you once again. He’d yank you straight into hell with him. You were all his.

So his palms were strong, scrunching up the bedsheets beside your head, catching the strands of your hair within its hold. It stung, leading a pleasant hiss from you and into his mouth. Your own fingers pinging the button of his jeans before dipping into the waistband of his boxers. His lips broke apart, teeth nipping your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Yes, you were a promiscuous nymph, working him further and further until precum leaked languidly from the tip, trickling and spilling onto your knuckles. The impish smirk you gave him sealed the deal.

“Not yet,” he whispered against your ear, a breathy chuckle expelled when you continued. “This is about you, baby. I can’t do that if I’ve busted all over you.” He grinned.

He did have a fair point. Off the remainder of his clothes went. Now no barriers remain between the pair of you. Naked and vulnerable in an iridescent glow from the moon.

In typical fashion of your boyfriend, he possessed an impatient roughness to him. A single hand manoeuvred your legs apart, one hiked upon his awaiting forearm and the other snug around his hip. In one swell tug down, you were spread open for him, the tip of his glistening cock pressed into your soaked folds. The minimal friction had invited your hips to buck up rebelliously. Yet the beast watched you with heavy eyes, watching the mouthwatering way he sunk barely into your cute little hole. It was enough for his senses to snap entirely. The second he pushed in fully, a grunt tumbled out and against the shell of your ear. The size of him filled you up in a way that you never thought was imaginable. The intrusion was sudden but smooth, forcing you to whimper and tuck your face into his shoulder. Your legs twitched, tensed whilst your palms instinctively reached out to press themselves against his lower abdomen. You protested, softly pushing back and he obliged, but only to sink back in slowly.

Yet a sweetness prevailed, his mouth whispering encouragingly into your ear, “That’s it, babygirl. You take me so good.”

The praise led to your hands smoothing up his rippled abdomen, appreciating the body that belonged to a Greek God. Closer he leaned into you, your body relaxing from the sudden intrusion he’d worked in and out of you with a gentle rocking of his hips. All of it pulled that wolfish simper from your breathless boyfriend. Your hips had a mind of their own, twitching to meet his abundantly stuttering hips in the middle. A dull ache blossomed and pulsed in your hot cunt. You wanted him so badly that it hurt. He pined for you just as violently, enough to pull back swiftly and snap his hips roughly into you. Any semblance of patience eradicated at the weathering fray in the string, crashing over into a dominant nature he was renowned for. You were all too obedient and joyous to follow. The intrusion into your cervix was unexpected, drawing out a wanton cry from your parched throat. His movements were deliberate, gaze darkening substantially in the shade of luscious ecstasy. Every cell in both of your bodies bursting to life whilst Marko did all of the work.

“M-Marko!” You stammered and gasped. Nothing but a pathetic whimper against the edge of his mouth.

Your foreheads were pressed together lovingly, hazel eyes finding your watery gaze easily. Tears pricked the corners. The pleasure curling you into his body.

At this rate, if he kept up his onslaught of devotion, you’d be a mess all over again; shuddering and sighing underneath him in a pitiful fashion. It was his favourite. Watching you crumble under everything he offered you, and by god would he offer you absolutely everything. The mere thought tempting him into overdrive with his impeccable stamina and strength. You could hardly keep up.

Yet with all of his rough ministrations and hungry motivations, there was a loving twitch to his lips — an extra devotion in the roll and smack each thrust brought. The tip of him hammering home on the delicate spot inside of you. Witnessing what each pull and push built up inside of you. It was perfect, feeling you cream all over him thickly. Your perfect moans and hazy eyes only made him love you more.

The only response you’d acquired was a grunt gritted between clenched teeth and panting breaths. His calloused digits feathered into your hair, gathering it into his fist. Nothing about him relented. He could tell by your half lidded eyes that you were nearly there. Expression consumed by an ample amount of bliss. It seeped into the air, boasting an array of vibrant hormones and scents. You were bewitching him with your morality, your head toppling back when he tugged on your hair firmly. The notion only forced him to grow more sporadic. Your content mewls of mercy morphing into the sweaty, salty air. His cool skin warmed by yours alone. Yet deep inside, even you knew that you didn’t possess a desire for him to stop. You wanted this. Wanted it more than you had any other time, because you’d stupidly starved yourself of most of your needs.

Toppling over the edge didn’t seem too far away. You could feel every inch of yourself under the mercy of your painfully vampiric boyfriend. He nurtured you into a quaking mess with his ragged edges, but it was all so utterly perfect. Your throbbing heart thrummed against your rib cage painfully, warping Marko’s features for a second time that night. Though it remained hidden within the cosy crook of your beautiful neck. Each pounding beat synching with his sinful thrusts until everything felt like a hot and heavy blur. Higher and higher you went, rising into cloud nine. He followed behind you, your scent driving him to weakness. He was dizzy, fingers grappling upon your flesh; grasping what he could to both pleasure you and steady himself. Your hands held onto his shoulders, fingers slithering up into his damp curly mullet. Over and over he went, but you held on.

“Let go, babygirl…” he whispered in a strained husky fashion against your sweaty skin.

His elongated teeth grazed the palpitating vein of your sweet spot. They glinted threateningly unbeknownst to you.

A temptation too reckless overcame him. The ruby rushing rivers beneath the surface of fragile skin spoke to him. Sung seductively into his soulless chest. It’s sweet nectar coaxed him in until said sharp teeth grazed a little too harshly. One drop was enough for his tongue to burst to life. Inducing him to suck on the wound. A harsher one warranted more blood to ooze out, and thus you yelped in protest. Though now too delirious to feel much else than the driving force that brought you literally on the edge of your second orgasm of the night. He could barely stop himself, the edge pulling his hips more violently into that back and forth motion — just as harsh but clouded with sloppiness. All until you both spilled over the edge of the cup.

It was a viral shock, numbing your body into intense bliss. A chorus of heightened groans poured from your mouth. Quaking limbs wrapped around his rocking body, pushing his spilled seed further into your womb. A long, husky groan buried itself into your neck — forcing his brief blood drinking to come to a halt. A heavy ’o’ shape formed your lips, throat hoarse from your incessant whimpers. The crash back down to hell was something in itself. Just as intense whilst you both hurtled, twitched and panted down in the fiery centre of the earth. Both of you left joined together from sensitivity. Gazes locked together with a dopey satisfaction. You watched his mischievous grin on his features, gone slightly pink from your blood. Your boyfriend was high on your blood — no doubt because it felt akin to taking a hit of crack. Yet you remained jelly legged, arms unable to move and your mind fuzzy. You were relaxed as he pulled out, admiring his seed trickling from you before he prized his clean crop top from your floor to clean you up.

“You… bit me,” you pouted up at him.

Your own pair of heavy fingertips inspected the small, messy series of puncture wounds engraved into your neck. A form of marking Marko was infamous for implementing. It stung so you winced.

“My bad.” Was all he grinned out in a lopsided fashion.

But it wasn’t an apology. He’d never apologised for such an act — not even in his controlled feeding on you. You were his and he was yours. Maybe he was a little too possessive. Nevermind, because the post orgasm glow only invited him in on shaky forearms. The tip of his nose skimmed your collarbone, inhaling your luxurious scent. His tongue poked out, lapping up the rich droplets you offered him of no fault of your own. It tasted sweet, yet decadent, almost like spiced mulled wine. The coolness of his appendage felt relieving against the hotness of your skin.

“Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily, fingernails softly dragging against his scalp to hone in on the appreciation that swarmed you.

Your gratitude was humorous. It made him chuckle as he pulled back, towering over your fully relaxed body. He tilted his head, “For fucking your brains out?”

“Mhmmmm!” You nodded, adamant.

More laughter propelled from his mouth, because Marko was not quite sure how else to respond. You’d never thanked him for such a thing before, and it was a warrant for teasing that’s for sure. Still, it made his still heart swell a thousand times in size, mimicking the distant feeling of a pulse of his heart. His silent lips pressed ardent kisses to the wound on your neck, running his tongue over the wound only to watch it magically heal somewhat. Then his mouth travelled to your ear, just to hear your soft giggle in time, sleepily stirring beneath him.

“I love you, baby.” A smile evident against the shell of your ear.

“Love you too…” you sighed with your own mirrored grin, all dopey from exhaustion.

The tug of sleep won and you plummeted into the blackness your closed eyelids entailed. It was a warm welcome after weeks of choppy and restless sleep from rampant anxiety. Marko laid there beside you, his fingers hovering over your tired muscles to clean you up and smooth ardent circles into sore patches of skin from his rough handling. An arm of his draped underneath your head as you silently curled into him. Your relaxed breaths tickled the nape of his dewy neck. The dilemma was averted and now he had you back. A few hours was all he could spare before he’d be forced to bid you farewell. The need for the dank darkness of the cave would call to him before sunrise. Yet for now he admired your tranquility with a laboured inhale and exhale. He pulled the covers over you both, hoping that your relaxation would remain until the following night. He’d sweep you away from your work and into the exhilarating arms of a good time. Thundering down the Boardwalk and harbour, perched on the back of his metallic steed. The pair of you damned, left to unleash your sly delightful terror upon Santa Carla. Yes, your absence had been so missed by your boyfriend as he stared up at your ceiling with satisfaction.

“Crisis averted.”

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

ARCADE

summary ★ she needs to get the action figure that's in the claw machine for her sister’s birthday, so saiki does her the favour of using his a telekinesis to win it...along with a few other favours.

trigger warning ★ gambling, god, swearing, fem!reader & reader has a younger sister

construction on the new arcade near pk academy had finally come to an end. the grand opening was today after school so of course, nendou suggested that they attend as a squad. usually, saiki tried to avoid getting roped into outings like this but for a change, he actually agreed without the need for any further prying. that's because the arcade was attached to a small cinema where they'd be premiering the latest action movie — based on the TV show adaptation of the game — 'Olfana's Story X-2'. as it turns out, a few months after saiki gave the game a shot, it became a craze and a massive hit among speed-runners. so from it's new-found popularity, they developed a TV show series which inevitably flopped so now they have created a movie. only the most elite people among the gaming community were allow to see it before the official release date and they all said it was incredible; but there was not a doubt in saiki's mind that they were being paid to sing it's praise. a crappy game turned into a crappy show, now adapted into a movie was sure to be crappy. so you may be wondering why he even wanted to view the movie if he was set on it being awful. Well, there are two simple answers; curiosity and the mystery. since it was so exclusive, he had yet to overhear spoilers through his telekinesis and he now had a germanium ring in his possession so he could watch the movie in peace. also, having played the game but not seen the show, he was curious to see how bad the movie is going to be and perhaps he'd be able to get a good laugh out of it. but he made the mistake of mentioning his plan to see the movie which screened a few hours after the opening of the arcade, as now kuboyasu, nendou and kaidou were all going to see the movie along with him. In theory, it shouldn't be a problem since he'll have his germanium ring on but in practise, the world seems to be against saiki so one of his friends will probably end up stealing his popcorn or chatting throughout the entire movie. he'll just have to wait and see. kaidou and nendou did not even stop to take breaths as they raced on about how excited they were while they were all walking to the arcade. "i'm sure the movie is going to be sick!" kaidou exclaimed, followed by rapid head nods from nendou as he replied, "yup! And i can't wait to see what sort of games they have!" saiki was a bit excited himself but he didn't care to show it like the others did. but when he saw the vaporwave building covered with bright neon lights come into view, his lips curled into a small smile. though it was short-lived as he noticed the massive queue to get in; it appeared as though they weren't the only ones who had the idea to visit the arcade after school as he noticed many familiar faces standing in line, amongst crowds of others. all of their cheery auras dissipated for a few moments until kuboyasu perked up, approaching the doors to the arcade with a smug smirk, cutting in front of everyone in the line and gesturing for the boys to follow him, "don't worry about the queue, guys. follow me." nendou followed without any further questions but saiki and kaidou were a bit apprehensive. all three of them watched as kuboyasu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the guard by one of the doors, muttering something in the man's ear, causing him to sweatdrop and hesitantly open the door with a shaky smile; allowing all four of them inside. "woah, that was awesome, aren!" kaidou yelled, not only out of awe but so he could be heard over all the cheering, laughing and game noises from inside the arcade. "yeah, that was so cool! but what did you say to that guy? he looked freaked out!" nendou inquired, surprising saiki with his actually intelligent observation. kuboyasu's hand found it's way behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he chuckled, "oh, nothing! it's not important-- hey! how about you guys start playing your games and i'll go get the tickets we reserved, yeah?" "yeah!" kaidou and nendou cheered in unison, high-fiving the purple-haired boy before the all ran off in different directions, leaving saiki standing alone at the entrance. he fidgeted with his germanium ring, contemplating taking it off as he stared at kuboyasu; he really wanted to know what the teen boy could've said that'd incite such fear into a grown man, but he decided against it — merrily making his way towards the claw machines, leaving kuboyasu's secrets alone. ★★★★★★★★★★ "shit." he cursed under his breath as he watched the cyborg cider man plushie that he's been trying to win — for yuuta — for half an hour straight slip out of his grasp once again. 'these things are rigged. and what's the point in having psychic superpowers if i can't use them.' he thought to himself but had to quickly shake off the idea, as there was no way he could risk using his powers in such a crowded place, especially for a plush that wasn't even for himself but rather for an annoying kid. he sighed, slipping another coin into the slot and about to find the right state of mind until he heard a loud "fuck!" from in front of him. his head jerked up, scanning the area for the source of the noise until his eyes landed on you. the claw machines were lined up, back-to-back, and playing on the machine diagonal from him was a girl with enchanting (e/c) eyes which contrasted greatly with her disheartened expression as she stared at the box. the only emotion she wore was sadness as she stared at the machine, so out of curiosity, saiki slipped off his ring in order to read her thoughts; feeling no guilt in listening to the affairs of a complete stranger. 'c'mon, stupid claw machine, i need this!' your silky yet whiny voice rung through his mind, 'what's she gonna think about me tomorrow when i tell her that i couldn't get her the gift she's wanted? she's gonna hate me- even more than she already does. and now i've spent all my money on this silly game so i can't even try get her a crappy gift with the little money i had. Wow, (y/n), you're the worst big sister in existence.' saiki cocked his head to the side, peering through the glass of the machines to see the contents of the claw machine you were standing in front of and when he saw the limited edition, silver cyborg cider man action figure sitting on a pedestal — almost as if it was taunting the poor girl — he finally connected the dots. your hand dug through your pockets until you found the smooth metal surface of your final coin, 'just once more try. if i win her this action figure, maybe she'll finally respect me as her big sister! and this toy will surely make her more happy than any gift mom could've possibly thought of. i'll make her sixth birthday one to remember!' the dejected look on your face slow lifted into a determined one, but it wasn't very convincing as saiki — and anyone else — could see the worry and shame in your eyes as you dropped your last coin into the slot of the machine, giving you one more chance to redeem yourself and claim the title of 'best big sister in the world'. saiki watched you maneuver the claw of the machine with bated breath, admiring how your pretty nose crinkled and your tongue poked out from the corners of your perfectly glossed lips in concentration — 'ew, stop being a simp, kusuo.' he mentally rebuked himself before engaging with your scene one again. your fist slammed down against the big red button, followed by the claw opening and lowering over the box of the cyborg cider man action figure, slowly closing it's jaws around the box and grasping it perfectly, resulting in a slight gasp to escape your throat as your lips pulled into a grin. the claw kept it's grip in the toy as it lifted up, slowly making it's way over the hole where it would drop the action figure, straight into your possession. that is, if the grip didn't falter hence allowing the toy to fall down, off it's pedestal and onto the bottom of the compartment to join the rest of the more average action figures. "fuck!" you screamed in an almost identical way to which you did earlier, expect this one held more pain. 'this can't be happening; is this the third year in a row that i'm going to show up to my little sister's birthday party empty-handed?' you thought, your bottom lips quivering so you quickly bit down on it, staring at the damned toy before turning on your heels, shuffling away from the game with your head hung low, the thoughts which cried in your head about how much you budgeted and how hard you worked made saiki's heart sink. 'maybe i could take out a mortga--' your thoughts were abruptly cut off when you heard the noise of something falling behind you. whipping your head around to see what happened, you exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary. however, you caught a glimpse of inside the machine which you had been cursing at and realised that the toy wasn't with the packaging peanuts where you left it, as if it magically disappeared in the few seconds you had averted your gaze. creeping up to it, your gaze darted around in search of anyone who might've won it in less than 5 seconds but that was unlikely. now that you were closer, you peered through the glass once more to confirm that the toy was in fact missing and you were right. recalling the noise of falling you heard just before you turned around, you dropped to your knees and lifted the flap to the compartment which held the good that people would win from the machine. you almost screamed with delight and shock when you laid eyes on the limited edition, cyborg cider man action figure that was tucked snugly inside. yanking it out, you pressed it to your chest and the tears you were choking back finally came running down your cheeks, but now they were from joy. "thank you, god." you whispered to yourself, making saiki chuckle from his spot at the claw machine which he hadn't moved from. he wasn't god — nor was he friends with god — but he didn't mind not being able to take the credit for his kind actions of using his psychokinesis to drop the box into the hole for you. honestly, he found that seeing you happy, sitting on the floor with brightest beam gracing your features along with your now cheerful thoughts in his head, was enough of a reward for him anyway. also, he appreciated how you didn't question how the box ended up in the hole and instead you just deemed it a miracle as you were too overjoyed to use logic; that sort of thinking saved saiki a lot of trouble. 'i should probably go home and wrap this.' your internal monologue had now calmed down slightly as you were now able to produce a thought that wasn't just a squeal of delight, 'hm, maybe once i am done i could come back and see the new movie that's premiering-- but i've not got much money left so i guess i shouldn't get ahead of myself.' you hummed, picking up the box along with yourself, dusting yourself off before heading towards the exit. saiki must've been staring for a tad too long though as you caught his gaze while brushing off your clothes. he cringed, instinctively darting his eyes away so you didn't think he was an ogling creep but the fact he appeared defensive probably didn't help. so he fully expected you to frown or cast him a dirty look, judging him for his actions but to his surprise, you simply chuckled. waving at the pink-haired boy before strolling off with the box under your arm. 'he seems cool. where i can get clips like those?' why were you thoughts making him blush like an idiot? time to put the germanium ring back on. ★★★★★★★★★★ as it turns out, nendou is surprisingly good at poker. he figured this out after he stumbled across the casino section of the arcade, and since he looks way older than seventeen, nobody questions it when he took a seat at one of the slot machines, under the impression that it was a fancy, old-timey arcade game. he was then offered a round of poker with some old dude with way too many gold teeth and nendou ended up taking the poor, stubborn guy's entire fortune. god-knows how many games with how-many people later, nendou was sitting on stacks of cash at a round table with a tired dealer, and two grown men — one crying into the shoulder of his arm-candy and the other weeping into the sleeve of his suit — while the three boys who had came to give him his ticket stood by, all wearing matching confused expressions. "uh, nendou." kuboyasu tapped his friend on the shoulder, waving the ticket in front of his face, "the movie is gonna start soon, we should start heading over there right now so we can buy snacks and get good seats." nendou raised an eyebrow, puzzled until he recalled that he was supposed to watch a movie today, "oh, that sounds cool and all but i'm having a lot of fun right here." he smiled, motioning to the large casino area. kuboyasu chuckled awkwardly, backing away from nendou slightly as he turned on his heels, ushering the two other boys away, "alright, well, have fun, nendou! don't stay out too late!" nendou sung an okay in response, sliding a kaidou some cash for the extortionate theatre snacks before he was rushed away by kuboyasu, the purple-haried boy not wanting to spend anymore time in the casino than needed. "if nendou isn't joining us for the movie then we have a spare ticket. here, saiki, you should have it!" "why me?" "uh, because you said you saw reita earlier. so if you see him again maybe you could offer him the spare ticket." 'absolutely not.' was vocalised as "sure." by saiki as he took the ticket from kuboyasu's outstretched hand, fiddling with it before stuffing it into his pocket along with his own ticket. "what i said to nendou was kinda an exaggeration" aren mused, glancing at his watch before looking up at his two pals, "we still have some time left before the movie starts. i'm gonna go handle some business — you two have fun, and try find reita!" kuboyasu said before pivoting on his heels in the direction of the staff only closet. the only thing saiki could think to do during this free-time was escape kaidou's pestering to play dance dance revolution — since saiki didn't want to dance, dance or revolute, he darted outside as soon as kuboyasu left, leaving kaidou alone and confused in the middle of the arcade. 'finally, fresh air.' saiki inhaled, filling his lungs with the cool air rather than the stuffy, arcade oxygen. scanning the surrounding area, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing by the ATM, which he immediately recognised to be that of the girl he had helped earlier. so naturally, he flicked of his ring to figure out the reasoning behind the awkward look on her face. 'do i really want to withdraw money to see some stupid movie? i mean, i could leave that money to accumulate and buy something nicer later.' without thinking, saiki hummed in agreement with your thoughts as he had been in your position many times before. 'but then again, i should treat myself! when was the last time i saw a movie that wasn't pirated? hmm..' your indecisive thoughts matched perfectly with your conflicted expression as you stared through furrowed brows at the screen of the ATM. a soft breeze passed, followed by something light smacking against you face. you winced slightly, your hand snapping your cheek and grabbing at whatever it was; just by the texture, you could tell it was paper. holding it in front of you, upon further inspection you realised that the mysterious sheet that had flew into your possession was in fact a ticket to tonight's showing of 'Olfana's Story X-2' row G, seat 9. you double, triple checked it out of fear that this may be a cruel prank but no, this was completely real! you cheered, bouncing up and down and away from the ATM since you no longer needed it's services as god had blew the desired item straight into your hands — or your face, rather. either way though, you were over the moon, clutching the ticket to your chest and basking in your second miracle of the day. unbeknownst to you, saiki's smile was almost as wide as your own. you thanked god for your relief and saiki had no problem with that; seeing your little happy dance and squeals with your free ticket was enough for him. but actually, perhaps he might benefit himself after all, since the ticket he had given you previous belonged to nendou. meaning that saiki was seated at row G, seat 10; right beside you. ★★★★★★★★★★ saiki forgot to send a few notes flying your way in the wind, so you walked into the theatre and took your seat, completely snackless since you couldn't afford the exorbitant prices that they sold food for at the cinema. but perhaps that wasn't all bad as it revealed the possibility for saiki to offer you some of his popcorn as a conversation-starter, as he's usually not too good at socialising with new people — forget starting a conversation. however, he didn't need to work up any sort of courage to talk to you as the first thing you did when you plopped down in your seat beside him was turn to him and chirp, "oh, you're the guy i saw at the claw machines earlier! i love your clip thingies." your buoyant-adrenaline allowing your to be more bold than usual. the movie had yet to start, low murmurs of chatter coming from across the theatre as the trailers played in the background, "yes. and thanks." 'good grief, curse myself for not being more talkative. she probably thinks i'm dull now. perhaps i should channel my inner nendou..if i have one.' instead of ending the conversation right there like he assumed you would, you continued talking and saiki was..glad? why did he want to interact with you so much? he spends most of his days trying to avoid interacting with people; why were you any different? "no problem- also, did you get what you were playing for?" you inquired, tapping your lip in genuine curiosity. his ring remained on his finger, despite the fact he wanted to know what you thought about him, he didn't want to invade your privacy any more than he already has. "no. did you?" "yeah, i did, actually!" you chirped, not noticing the smirk creeping onto saiki's lips as you were too engulfed in your memories, "i thought those games were rigged but maybe they're not 'cause i managed to win this super special action figure that my sister has been on the top of my sister's wishlist for like- forever! and her birthday is tomorrow so i'll be a--" you cut yourself off, crinkling your nose in embarrassment, "sorry, i'm over-sharing, aren't i?" your enthusiasm made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to, if you didn't know any better, he would have thought he was having a medical emergency. his eyes widened slightly as you halted in your speech, "no, you're fine." he said, the uncharacteristic softness in his voice catching the attention of his two pals sitting on the other side of him. you shook off his comment, "i mean, i'm telling you my life story and i don't even know your name." you said, laughing sheepishly at the reality of the reality of the situation.

“saiki kusuo.” he blurted out without a second thought.

you blinked a few times, shocked that he’d give his details away so easily as you somewhat expected him to be more of a reserved type of guy but evidently, you were wrong. “uh, i’m (l/n) (y/n).” you choked, biting down on your bottom lip slightly before continuing you story as he seemed to wait expectantly, “as i was saying, today’s just been the best day ever! everything has been going so well, i’m a bit scared as to what is going to happen when it hits midnight.”

saiki nodded along, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth before remembering his plan, “oh- would you like some?” he asked, offering you some popcorn from his bucket. unfortunately, the plan was a last-minute thing so he had only bought a small, but he still wasn’t opposed to sharing.

you shook your head, trying to grin foolishly wide at his kind offer, “no thank you.”

saiki nodded, about to open his mouth to reply until the blaring music from the beginning of the movie started, putting a swift end to your conversation — despite the fact saiki would much rather talk to you than watch the crappy movie — out of theatre etiquette.

★★★★★★★★★★

it was worse than you or saiki could’ve ever imagined.

it was painfully trying not to burst out laughing right in middle of it or lean over and giggle in each other’s ear at the silly dialog but out of respect for the other people in the cinema, you both stayed silent and just cast each other occasional knowing glances whenever something cringey happened on screen.

you both let out audible sighs of relief with the credits began to roll, accompanied by a slow indie song. “that was..something.” you mumbled, grabbing your purse and jumping to your feet, wanting to exit the building as soon as possible and hopefully leave your memories of the movie behind you.

“definitely.” he snickered, absently flicking the side of his empty popcorn bucket, “i stopped paying attention once i finished my popcorn.” it felt weird to vocalise — or rather, telepathically communicate — the comments he’d usually keep to himself; why did he feel so comfortable speaking to someone he only just met?

he began gathering his things, stuffing all of his rubbish in the bucket so he could dispose of it all at once. his mind was fixated on crappiness of the movie and how a five-year-old could’ve shot a much better film, until you grabbed his attention by calling out his name, followed by a question which made him blood run cold.

“before i go, it gotta ask’ how’d you do it? or more importantly, why’d you do it?”

he blinked several times before putting on his best bewildered expression, with the idea that maybe if he played dumb, he could gaslight you into thinking that it never happened or that he had nothing to do with it. “what?”

“oh, don’t give me that!” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “i’m not stupid. every time something good happened to me, you were nearby. i’ve connected the dots so fess up. why did you do all those nice things for me? was it out of pity or are you that nice to everyone?”

“i’m that nice to everyone.”

“i don’t believe you.” you snapped, fixing your tone when you remembered that even though he was lying to you, he still helped you get the present for you sister and gave you his spare ticket. “i don’t care if you’re not gonna give me a straight answer, but at least let me make it up to you.”

he huffed, an unimpressed look covering his features before you even proposed your idea. there was really nothing he could possibly need from you. what were you going to give him that he wasn’t capable of obtaining on his own? so he frowned, ready to decline your offer.

“i saw that you bought one of those jelly pots from the snack stand and i actually work at a little café in the town, so i might be able to get you few things for free or discounted?”

“yes.” wait, that wasn’t refusal.

“great!” you chirped, glad that you wouldn’t have to pry further, “does later this week sounds good? we could meet up here then i can walk you to the café- or i could give you my number and we can arrange a date later?”

“sure.” saiki said without thinking once again.

but it wasn’t as though he regretted it when you slipped the piece of paper you had scribbled your number onto, into the front pocket of his shirt, tapping it with a smile. “alright! i’ll see you later then- unless you want to walk home with me?” you fidgeted with your fingers slightly, instantly regretting what you just came out with. not because you didn’t want to walk with him, but due to the fact you highly doubted he was going so say accept so you mentally prepared for the impact of his harsh rejection.

“sure.”

★★★★★★★★★★

BONUS

saiki ended up walking home with some girl he met at the theatre so that left kuboyasu and kaidou to fetch nendou once the film finished. they both searched the casino area for almost half an hour but neither of them had any luck finding nendou. that was, until kuboyasu had to take a step outside to escape the casino as he noticed an old friend of his playing on the slot machines, and he found nendou crouched by the garbage cans, on his phone.

“nendou! we’ve been looking all over for you- why are you out here by the trash? and what happened to all your money?!”

nendou chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his spare hand, “fun story actually. i was doing so well and i was on my way to becoming a millionaire until these schoolgirls came marching in and absolutely slaughtered me! it was so embarrassing and the only way i could escape them was by running away so i hid back here.”

kuboyasu’s aura just screamed ‘disappointed but not surprised’, “so you’re telling me that you lost millions to highschool girls?”

“they might’ve been middle-schoolers, i’m not too sure. i didn’t get a very good look at ‘em but they were all wearing creepy red uniforms.”

all kuboyasu could do was massage his temples to ease his headache at the stupidity of his friends, “so you lost all your money to school girls in creepy red uniforms?” he repeated aloud, just to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“yes. but not all my money.” he said, pulling out his wallet and grandly opening it to reveal a few notes and a button, “i’ve still got enough to spend on ramen with my bros!”

#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki headcanons #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki no psi nan #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #kusou saiki #saiki imagines #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k headcanons #psychic kusuo #kusuo saiki

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cowboy-anon · 3 years ago

Note

🧸 and 📚 for apple?

🧸 - A soft plushie

📚 - A bedtime story

Totally dropped off the face of the Earth yesterday aside for a few likes. XD Sorry about that!

Anyway, it’s a long boi, and it’s also the first real piece I’ve written about Apple’s time with Jimmy! Therefore, I’m taggin’!

CW: Broken whumpee, clueless caretaker, clueless whumpee, crying, implied past abuse, lack of boundaries, mentioned temper tantrum, pet whump, referenced past neglect, starvation mention, Stockholm Syndrome, whipping mention

Tagging: @happy-whumper, @milk-carton-whump, @sideblogformindtrash, @whumperfulart, @unicornscotty

(I lost my list, so if you want to be tagged or if I forgot to tag you, please let me know!)

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

A week in and Jimmy’s feeling pretty terrible at this whole caretaking thing. He shouldn’t have said it. He thought he was helping.

He shouldn’t have told Apple that Clay didn’t have his best interests at heart.

The tantrum lasted an hour, and after he exhausted himself, Apple stormed into the living room and hid beside the couch. Not even the bedroom he painstakingly prepared for him, Jimmy thinks exhaustedly.

But that’s not really important. At this rate, Apple’s never going to warm up to him. He needs to do something to gain his trust. Not that he’s exactly sure what that would entail. Words won’t be enough. Apple’s still terrified of him. Pissed at him now, too. So…

“Apple?” Jimmy hears a sniffle from behind the arm of the couch. “Listen, I… I have to go to the store real quick. I need you to stay here.” He would bring him, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle a busy supermarket so soon after, well, everything.

“I’m not expecting any company, so.” Jimmy shrugs on his coat. “So don’t open the door for anyone. Just… if anyone knocks, ignore them.”

His keys, his keys… There they are. Jimmy scoops up his wallet and keys and unlocks the door.

“Keep this door locked when I leave, Apple. That’s…” Jimmy sighs and braces himself. “That’s a command. Stay here, okay?”

He knew what to expect when he used that tone, but it still stings when Apple replies, “Yes, Master Jimmy.”

He nods to himself. “Good. I’ll be back soon.” Then he walks out, closing the door behind him.

***

The moment the door closes, Apple rushes to the door on unsteady legs, unlocks it, and wraps his hand around the doorknob. Just a few minutes. Three, tops. Three minutes until he rips the door open and runs back to Master Clay.

Master Jimmy doesn’t know what he was talking about. No, not Master Jimmy. Just Jimmy, because Master Clay is still his owner no matter what he says.

Apple puts his ear to the door and listens to Jimmy’s receding footsteps. Around the doorknob, his fingers shake. What if Master Clay doesn’t take him back? Apple was bad. No, he was horrible. He left. He left Master Clay. Why did he do that?!

Because Benji told him to—begged him to. They made him promise he would run and never come back.

Apple….he has to keep that promise.

This, this whole staying with Jimmy, it’s temporary. Temporary Master Jimmy. Temporary until Apple can find a way to get back to Master Clay without breaking his promise.

Apple can do that, but until then, he has to wait. So he lets go of the doorknob, flicks the lock closed, and he stays.

Less than an hour later, Temporary Master Jimmy walks through the door with a plastic bag. He waves Apple over to the bedroom, not Temporary Master Jimmy’s and therefore the extra bedroom. Apple’s chest tightens at the notion, but he does as he’s told.

Crawling into the carpeted room, it’s not at all what Apple expects. Instead of empty corners and glaringly bland walls, it’s… oddly homey. There’s an enticing bed in the corner of the room and beside it a simple but lovely wooden nightstand and lamp. At the front of the room, there’s even a little dresser. And… the room itself is a beautiful shade of olive green.

Temporary Master Jimmy’s already in the room, sitting on the floor against the foot of the bed. He wordlessly pats the space beside him.

Apple’s hands start to go numb with fright. Still, it’s a command—even if Temporary Master Jimmy didn’t state so explicitly. Hoping his hesitation doesn’t show, Apple crawls until he’s kneeling where he was gestured to and sits, careful not to let his back touch the bed.

Temporary Master Jimmy lets him get settled, then pulls the plastic bag from earlier into his lap and looks at Apple.

“I know we don’t know each other all that well,” Temporary Master Jimmy starts slowly, “but I noticed you have a kind of… affinity for apple stuff, so I— I got you something.” Apple watches, half excited, half terrified as Temporary Master Jimmy reaches into the bag and pulls out whatever’s in there.

Apple sees the felt stem first, then a dark green leaf sprouting from the top of the round bright green fabric shape. And then he sees legs. Eight to be exact. And eyes.

“It’s an apple octopus plush! Or a… an apple-pus?“ Temporary Master Jimmy laughs a little. “I just… I saw it and I thought it was kind of cute and, you know, figured you might like it. Given… everything…”

Apple’s staring. It’s an octopus, but—but it’s green and it has a leaf and a stem like an apple. And it looks so soft...

But Apple knows It’s a trick. It has to be. People don’t get him things, not without a lot of convincing. Certainly not unprompted. But… but Temporary Master Jimmy’s just holding it out to him expectantly, and every second that passes by, the itch to grab it grows. Soon enough, Apple doesn��t care if it’s a trick. He moves to take it, fully expecting to have it wrenched out of his reach the moment he gets close enough for it to hurt him.

Only it isn’t.

When Apple reaches out to grab it, Temporary Master Jimmy doesn’t snatch it away. He lets Apple take it in his hands. He lets Apple touch its perfect fluffy fabric and hold it to his chest. It’s soft, so much softer than he imagined it’d be.

For the first time since arriving here, Temporary Master Jimmy makes Apple smile.

“I-I got a story, too,” Temporary Master Jimmy continues, smiling like this is the best thing to ever happen to him. He pulls a little hardcover picture book out of the bag to show Apple. “So… so I’ll make you a deal.”

At the words, Apple freezes, and the smile on his face drops in a flash. The look he shoots Temporary Master Jimmy is one of pure horror.

How could he have been so stupid? The rewards, the kind words—of course there’d be a “but.” The salesman never let him off that easy either.

“Okay,” Apple squeaks, because he knows he has no real choice in the matter. He just hopes his behavior earlier won’t influence the severity of the punishment.

What is he thinking? Of course it will.

“I’ll read you a story tonight, but only if… if you sleep on your bed tonight.”

Now he’s just confused. Apple… wasn’t expecting that. He expected to be starved or to receive a whipping, not to sleep on a bed. An insanely plush, comfortable-looking…. bed.

Apple nods because he’s expected to. “Okay.”

Apple doesn’t understand why Temporary Master Jimmy’s face lights up when he says that, but he does know watching Temporary Master Jimmy jump up with the book in hand makes him nervous. Master Clay never let him on the furniture, nevermind a bed. He never told Apple why, but Apple assumes it was the filth that covered him. Besides, Apple wouldn’t want to ruin Master Clay’s lovely couches.

Which is why when Apple stands up with the plushie held to his chest, he hesitates even touching the bed.

He looks longingly over it’s big fluffy pillows and soft, clean green-striped white comforter. Then he peeks at Temporary Master Jimmy, who’s watching him expectantly.

This is what your temporary master wants, Apple reminds himself firmly. It doesn’t matter if he hurts you afterwards. Do as you’re told.

Apple swallows hard and lays a shaking hand on the comforter.

He cringes, waiting for the inevitable yelling, waiting for the punishment. But it doesn’t come. Rather, Temporary Master Jimmy says, “Good! Good. Okay, come on, Apple, you can do it. Get under the covers and I’ll read you that story.”

A story. How long has it been since someone’s read to him? Ages.

So Apple puts his other hand on the comforter, the one holding the plushie, ready for any reprimand he might receive. When he doesn’t get one, he pulls the covers back, crawls onto the mattress, sits himself up amongst the pillows, and covers himself again with the blanket. It feels… foreign. Oddly enough, just a little familiar, too.

Temporary Master Jimmy hides a smile behind his hand, not very well and definitely not in a way that’s reassuring for Apple, before climbing into bed next to him, staying on top of the blankets instead of getting under them.

Still, the proximity makes Apple freeze—well, aside from his hands. Those are shaking uncontrollably despite clutching at the covers by his lap.

Temporary Master Jimmy gets all but comfortable before noticing Apple’s discomfort. “Geez, sorry, I should’ve asked. Is… is it okay for me to be on your bed?”

“Of course,” Apple says without hesitation. His hands continue to shake.

But everything is okay. Whatever his master chooses to do with him is okay. His salesman knew that, Master Clay knew that. Why doesn’t Temporary Master Jimmy get it?

“Here.” Temporary Master Jimmy scoots further to the right, away from Apple, until he’s sitting on the corner of the bed. “Better?”

Apple exhales shakily. “Y-yes?” Is he allowed to answer?

Temporary Master Jimmy shifts until he’s comfortable. Apple takes the octopus plush and pulls it back into his arms, snuggling deeper into the blankets as discreetly as possible.

Beside him, Temporary Master Jimmy smiles. Then he clears his throat and grabs the bright red picture book from his lap.

“Right. So, uh, get comfy.” Temporary Master Jimmy flashes the cover at Apple, who can’t help but watch him with wide, fascinated eyes. “This is Corduroy. I loved this book when I was a kid.” Temporary Master Jimmy flips to the first page. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ll think it’s too kiddy or boring, but… just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Apple nods, barely perceptible, even though he knows he has no intention of doing so. Temporary Master Jimmy chose this book. Of course Apple will be grateful.

“Okay.” Temporary Master Jimmy nods. “I’m… I’m starting now. Uh, Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store...”

As he reads, Apple finds himself hanging onto every word. He kind of likes how Temporary Master Jimmy’s voice gets huskier when he reads. It reminds him of Master Clay.

With the image in mind, Apple finds his eyes drifting closed against his will.

“...‘You must be a friend,’ said Corduroy. ‘I’ve always wanted a friend.’’

“‘Me too!’ said Lisa, and gave him a big hug.” Temporary Master Jimmy turns the book to Apple to show him the final picture, but he’s almost completely asleep now, curled up on the bed and clutching that apple octopus tightly in his hands.

Temporary Master Jimmy brushes a strand of faded green hair out of Apple’s face and pulls the covers up to waist. He does it so gently, so carefully. He doesn’t know the slightest of touches are enough to rouse Apple.

Temporary Master Jimmy slips out of bed and heads for the door.

Behind him, Apple pipes up, “Thank you, Temporary Master Jimmy.” It’s soft and a little hoarse from the screaming fit he threw earlier, but his appreciation is clear.

“Temporary Ma—? Uh, you’re welcome, Apple.” Temporary Master Jimmy chuckles quietly. “Goodnight.”

On his way out, he flicks the light off and closes the door behind him.

Without Temporary Master Jimmy around, Apple lets himself get truly comfortable. He buries himself in a mound of blankets and pillows and cuddles the apple octopus stuffie against his cheek, for once not worrying that it’ll be taken away from him.

That night, Apple sleeps the most peacefully he has in years.

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jungjaehyunnies · 4 years ago

Text

broken promises; j.jh

☆ summary: nobody ever told you that falling out of love was just as easy as falling in love. ☆ genre: fluff, angst, slight smut ☆ warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, sex ☆ word count: 3.3k+ ☆ note: happy birthday to my favourite person in the world c: this is also my first nct fic :o <333

The first time you recalled feeling your heart jumping out of your ribcage was the fourth time you met him.

You and Jaehyun only ever interacted through Mark, your high school acquaintance turned closest college friend and Jaehyun’s basketball teammate. With conversations limited to polite nods and smiles and small talk before one of you would walk away to class, he rarely crossed your mind.

That was, until you’d stayed out late studying in the library one night and came across Mark and Jaehyun practicing at the basketball court halfway to your dorm. And Jaehyun was sweaty… but hot and sleeveless. And when Mark convinced you to stay back an extra twenty minutes for them to finish up so that you wouldn’t need to walk across the dark campus alone, you’d perhaps spent too much ogling at how his biceps flexed with each movement he made, whether he was attempting to shoot or defending himself.

You couldn’t quite remember how Mark had been able to convince you to join him in a small match against Jaehyun (two vs. one because he had the height advantage amongst you three); it was something to do with Jaehyun apparently being a competitive asshole who absolutely needed to prove that he was better than both you and Mark playing together.

Oh yeah, he was definitely competitive, you realised within thirty seconds when you were bulldozed onto the ground by a heavy weight and you fell straight onto your ass, pain shooting up your spine.

You fell just a little bit in love when he held your hand to pull you back up to your feet, with soft, apologetic eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul and a promise to make it (‘it’ being your bruised tailbone) up to you some time within the next week or so.

The next time it happened was when he held true to his promise and took you to a twenty-four hour coffee shop just outside of campus, purchasing you the biggest cup of coffee they offered as well as a slice of strawberry cheesecake and keeping you company for seven hours.

Exam season was around the corner, and you were both stressed. You were ready to pull your hair out. Studying had become a chore, but you just needed to manage for another two weeks.

Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind though. He picked up on your small signs and studied quietly with you, only taking the occasional break to ask if you wanted some more cake or coffee, or to make small talk and discuss briefly about your classes. Neither of you took the same classes, but you took comfort in the fact that you both tried to help each other where possible.

By the time it was past midnight, you could tell he was tired of studying. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered constantly around the café, how he started dozing off every few minutes before blinking his eyes open, and how his handwriting had become sloppier with each line.

Despite that, he kept you company and walked you back to your dorm.

“You really didn’t need to walk me back,” you said. Although you were very grateful he had done so, you felt guilty for taking up his time when he was clearly ready to knock out. “I feel bad now though, do you live close by, at least?”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun responded, lips pressed into a cute, closed-mouth smile that made you want to squish his peachy cheeks. His ears were tinted red, he glanced at you shyly and admitted, “I actually live in the dorm near the café. Same building as Mark.”

That was a twenty-minute walk back.

“But, really, I don’t mind,” he insisted. “This was nice. We should meet up again after exams are over.”

With the promise to meet up again without the need to study, he engulfed you in a hug that filled you with so much warmth, you were sure you’d stopped breathing.

The third time you experienced that feeling, you were both half-drunk at an end-of-exams party.

You may have been half-drunk but you were sober enough to be dragging Mark back to his dorm together. You and Jaehyun had wrapped your arms around the dead weight between the two of you that was struggling to walk in a straight line and ready to pass out.

You groaned as Mark’s knees wobbled and threatened to give out under him.

“I told him to eat dinner properly before the party but he never listens to me,” Jaehyun grumbled, heaving more of Mark’s weight onto his shoulder to relieve you of the pressure. “Fucking dumbass.”

With a huff, you complained right back at Jaehyun, “If you took it easier on us during beer pong, he wouldn’t be dying like this.”

Jaehyun was unbelievably talented at beer pong and had looked way too unbelievably attractive across the table when you three had been playing. It was unfair.

“It’s not my fault you guys suck,” he pouted in response. “Besides, Johnny was the one who made him chug two bottles of soju in a row after beer pong.”

You sighed in defeat. He was right. You’d all lost count of how much Mark had to drink, who was way too desperate and excited to let loose after the stress of exams.

Getting Mark’s keys out of his pockets and into bed took a lot of grumbling, dry heaving and whining before your friend finally knocked out. You watched through tired eyelids that threatened to close shut as Jaehyun placed a few pills and a bottle of water by Mark’s bedside.

He was a sweet friend, and your drunken mind couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like taking care of someone more than a friend.

“He’s going to feel like shit tomorrow,” Jaehyun spoke softly, as the two of you walked out of Mark’s dorm and closed the door behind him. “And uh…” he trailed off.

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to sound too forward, but you can stay at mine tonight if you want,” he said, all in one breath, words slurring together from the rush. It took you a few seconds to process what he had just said, and when you looked up at him, his ears were tinted pink again.

Cute.

“Only because it’s past two now,” Jaehyun reasoned, “And you look so tired and it’s not safe for you to walk back alone in the dark right now.”

You were hesitant, but ready to take the offer. You were indeed very exhausted, your feet hurt from walking and dancing around in heels all night, and the alcohol (and also dragging Mark here) was draining all the energy out of you.

But… spending the night in Jaehyun’s dorm? Even half-drunk, you knew that was possibly not the best idea.

Gnawing at your bottom lip nervously, you said, “I don’t want to impose though.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You won’t be,” he responded before offering you a cheeky grin. “Besides, we can wake up Mark tomorrow and make him buy us breakfast for dragging his ass home tonight.”

A giggle escaped from you as you agreed, looking forward to the nagging and teasing you would put Mark through tomorrow morning.

It took a lot of arguing between Jaehyun (who insisted on sleeping on the couch) and yourself (who felt too guilty to allow him to do that after he offered you his shower and clean clothes), before you both settled on his mattress. You promised him that you would pay for his next meal and coffee for letting you stay over for the night.

Just before you dosed off, you felt Jaehyun’s fingers thread through your hair delicately and heard him murmur, “You’re so gorgeous.”

Each time you ended up meeting up with Jaehyun, you found that the two of you continually made promises before each farewell to pay the other back. Walks back to your dorm slowly progressed into lingering touches and attending every one of his basketball games, which then became pet names and stolen kisses between classes and during study dates over the months.

One night, he dragged you to the amusement park a half hour away from campus, promising to win you all the plushies you wanted. His fingers stayed intertwined with yours for the whole night, thumb rubbing circles over the back of your hand whenever you got the slightest bit nervous over a thrilling ride.

You tried not to express your disappointment when he eventually let go of your hand so that he could hold an ice cream cone in one hand and a giant sloth plushie in his other arm. Your disappointment didn’t last long, though, when you eventually found yourself in a small gondola of a ferris wheel that hovered over the pretty night lights, cuddled up in his arms.

“Can I try some of yours?” Jaehyun asked, referring to your half-eaten cookie dough ice cream.

When you nodded absentmindedly and lifted your waffle cone up, you didn’t expect for Jaehyun to press his lips against yours. It took all your self-control to not let go of your cone and to thread your fingers through his fluffy hair as you melted against him.

Just as you were ready to press up closer to him, the cheeky bastard pulled away. Before you could blink, he’d taken a massive bite out of your cone with a grin and said, “Mmmm, yummy.”

“Jae!” you gasped in disbelief. About half the remaining of your cone was gone.

Jaehyun giggled, showing off his dimples, and pecked your lips softly.

“I’ll buy you a whole tub tomorrow, I promise,” he murmured, making it up to you, his nose nudging your cheek. “Happy birthday, baby.”

For someone who had a cute, peachy, dimply face, your boyfriend sure had a body that screamed quite the opposite, and it was still mildly surprising to you after all this time together.

“Mmm, I love you,” Jaehyun murmured, soft lips pressed up against your neck and his hips pressed right up against yours.

A gentle pull at his hair elicited a delightful groan from him as you muttered, “You’re only saying that because your dick is in me right now.”

“Say it back,” he whined in response, the movements of his hips coming to a halt as he tickled your waist. God, he was so needy, but you weren’t going to complain because you secretly loved it. Just not when you were just about to experience a mindblowing orgasm.

You squirmed under his grip, laughing but refusing to give in. “Baaabeeee,” he drawled, “Say you love me back.”

“Maybe I will after you fuck me and make me cum,” you said and wiggled your hips, “Or I’m never saying it back.”

Jaehyun gripped your thigh, lifting your leg around his strong back and you bit back a moan from how wonderful he felt inside of you even with that slight movement. “I can do that,” he murmured, before slanting his lips against yours, tongue delving into your mouth as he slammed back into you and eventually brought you to a delightful state that had you seeing stars.

Another round later, you were too exhausted to do anything but curl up in Jaehyun’s strong arms and seek out his warmth. “I love you a lot,” you mumbled, eyes closing shut, as you kissed his chest. “You’ll wake me up before you go for practice in the morning, right?”

“Of course I will, baby, I promise.”

Those promises were nice, until they became meaningless.

You broke your promises to attend each of his games as your workload picked up over the next semester, and Jaehyun broke his promises of waking you up each morning before he left for practice.

And, both of you eventually broke promises to keep each other around and to love one another forever.

You weren’t sure when the cracks started appearing and when you’d started falling apart, but you guessed it was inevitable to slowly fall out of love at one point, but you hadn’t expected it to happen so fast and so easily.

It started off with less dates and less sleepovers. You could blame that on both of your insane schedules at college, but in the end, despite how busy you were, you knew you both should’ve made time for each other.

Somehow, updating Jaehyun about your days (which weren’t very eventful) suddenly became a chore. You got the feeling that he felt similarly, as he started responding to your texts much later and later, sometimes even a day’s delay between your messages. But, you were too stubborn to let go of what the two of you had.

At one point, you’d realised that the two of you hadn’t even had sex for two months. If Jaehyun wasn’t too tired from basketball or practice, you were too stressed over your studies. Sex used to help you both relieve from your exhaustion and stress on top of showing each other how much you loved each other, but now, it wasn’t even an afterthought.

Stolen kisses between classes eventually stopped too, and your goodbye smiles started feeling more forced and effortful.

Almost out of obligation, the two of you went to a nice restaurant to celebrate your one-year anniversary, and things almost seemed back to normal. Like a spark reignited.

You’d dressed up nicely and he looked as handsome as ever. You were, for once, able to catch up on each other’s busy schedules and enjoyed a meal together finally.

But, eventually, when you found yourself back in his dorm, hands and knees on his mattress, as he pounded into you from behind, you couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you were just using each other at this stage.

No soft ‘I love you’’s or teasing, no alternations between rough and soft sex, and no whispered sweet nothings this time. Just the sounds of panted breaths, skin slapping against skin, and the final moans of release at the end.

Aftercare seemed like a routine, like muscle memory, as the two of you engaged in the same motions you had done so familiarly months ago.

You and Jaehyun tried cuddling, but eventually you both fell asleep facing away from each other. When you woke up, he had already left for practice.

Weeks of overthinking had you gnawing nervously at your nails, shaking in stress (perhaps that was from your insane caffeine intake too, but you weren’t sure at this point), and pulling at the ends of your hair.

You hated to admit it, but you knew that it was over. You weren’t stupid. You just didn’t want to let go of it.

You finally broke down to Mark over a tub of cookie dough ice cream. Mark was so panicked and taken aback from seeing you cry out of nowhere as you two walked to the library from your shared class, that he bought you ice cream, bubble tea and three slices of strawberry cheesecake before dragging you to his place.

He offered you his blankets, his hugs and all his snacks, while he shooed his roommate outside the dorm.

“Do you know what Jaehyun thinks of me?” you mumbled pathetically, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“Uh, I-“ Mark seemed hesitant to respond. From his curious gaze, you figured that Jaehyun hadn’t spoken to him about whatever relationship problems you guys had. “He’s your boyfriend. He loves you. He’s so in love with you, Y/N.”

No, he’s not.

You stayed silent, too embarrassed to say anything, and curled up under the blanket he’d offered you, staring blankly at his TV screen until you dosed off.

Jaehyun, 11:07pm: We need to talk. Can I come over tonight?

You weren’t sure how long you spent staring at that small notification on your screen, but eventually, you agreed, despite every fibre of your body begging you to respond with ‘no’. Couldn’t you keep him for at least a little bit longer?

You waited anxiously after class, waiting for a knock on your dorm door. That feeling of your heart slamming against your ribcage returned, but it didn’t feel good this time.

It felt heartbreaking, because you knew how this was going to end.

When your boyfriend arrived at past nine, he looked at you with a grim expression that showed he was just as exhausted as you were.

“Mark told me what happened yesterday. I’m really sorry,” Jaehyun said, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. “He told me to fix this and I am. We should end this.”

Jaehyun looked into your eyes earnestly. “I really love you, Y/N. I really did, you have to believe me, and I do still want to, but I don’t- I don’t know what happened,” he added, voice quivering with the last few words as he reached up to brush a tear away from your cheek.

He was a soft person, and he tended to cry when others cried as well.

Within seconds, you found yourself back in his warm embrace again, your tears soaking his hoodie while his own ran down his cheeks. You hesitantly brought your arms around his waist. If this was going to be how it ended, you didn’t want to finish this off on bad terms.

“I know, Jae,” you said, pulling away slightly to look up at him in understanding. “I think we both knew this was coming.”

We were just too cowardly to admit it.

“I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better than me.”

When you tried denying that and shaking your head, Jaehyun placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, eyes red and cheeks puffy as he looked into your eyes. “You are! You’re an amazing person with a beautiful personality, and you’ll find someone better who won’t break their promise of keeping you around forever. They won’t be an idiot like me… and if they are, I’ll beat their ass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh even in this situation. “You’re not an idiot,” you argued weakly, wiping his tears from his cheeks as well. “You were the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for. I just- I don’t know… I don’t know how we got here either. I’m sorry, too.”

Jaehyun managed to crack a smile. “I don’t know either. We’re both idiots,” he said and pulled you in for another warm hug.

It felt comforting this time.

The breath you let out almost felt like one of relief. You’d loved him so much and ended up being so terrified of losing him that you held onto him as your boyfriend, and yet this felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“I don’t want to lose you, though,” you admitted. “I’m okay with this but… I don’t think I can lose you.”

Even if you’d fallen in love with him, you weren’t sure you could go around with life without him. He’d wormed his way into your heart and your daily life, and you knew he would be an amazing friend, despite the history. You couldn’t bear to imagine what it would be have a Jaehyun-sized hole in your life from here onwards.

Jaehyun stayed silent and held onto you for a few more minutes before the two of you let go of each other. He took a step back outside your dorm, as if clearly setting the new boundaries now.

“Let’s take some time apart. I think some space will be good for us,” he suggested, reasonable as ever. With a soft smile that displayed his dimples to you for the last time in a while, Jaehyun added, “We’ll be friends after that, I promise.”

But, promises were made to be broken.

#jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #nct scenarios #jaehyun imagines #i don't know what else to tag but oh well c: first fic here yeeee #sorry to post something sad on vday i love angst too much gjklsdj #*myfics

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luxekook · 5 years ago

Text

chapter five.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 3.9k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, general chaotic energy, poly relationships, switch!reader and sub!jk, nipple piercings, taehyung being a brat, mentions of violence, light construction site smut (hehe), annoying texts from seokjin

Chapter Five

Taehyung’s Room, BTS House - 11:57pm

“Well, shit, JK. Looks like the party started without us.”

An hour ago, I would have shoved Jimin off of me and shimmied out of Yoongi’s hold. But, now? I definitely am in too deep to back down from Taehyung.

“Hmm,” I make a show of pushing my hips slightly against Yoongi’s as I turn to face Taehyung and Jungkook more fully, “Yes, it did. And you know why? Because you weren’t invited.”

Yoongi chuckles into my neck as my words detonate and land on Taehyung, who gapes in disbelief. “Don’t piss her off, Tae," I feel Yoongi's grin against my neck before he places a quick kiss behind my ear.

“Yeah, Tae,” I taunt, “Don’t piss me off.”

“We leave for ten minutes. Ten! And she’s already got you like this?” Taehyung stomps over to his bed and sits in a huff, "Can I at least get a kiss, too?”

"Oh, I don't think so," I purr, "You see, only good boys get kisses." Turning to Jungkook, I smile wickedly when I'm met with the cutest wide-eyed stare complete with bottom lip sucked behind his two front teeth.

"Jungkookie," I shake Jimin and Yoongi off me and slowly turn to face the youngest, "Have you been a good boy?"

He nods frantically and gulps when my hand slips up his black t-shirt. "I'm so happy to hear that."

"D-do I get a kiss, noona?" He asks in the tiniest voice imaginable.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Kim Taehyung rages from his four-poster bed, "Jungkook was just thirsting over you in the hallway!"

"Shut the fuck up, Kim," Jungkook growls, muscles bunching under my touch. I bite back a grin over how the boy’s duality really jumps out when he’s provoked.

"Hmm, is that so, Kookie?" My hand glides into his hair at the nape of his neck to pull his gaze back to mine, "Tell me what you said, and I might still let you have a kiss."

"What?" Taehyung cries.

"At this rate, she's not going to touch Taehyungie for 84 years." I hear Hoseok say, snickering. Seokjin's squeaky laughter and Jimin's high-pitched giggles ensue. I’m also almost certain I hear Yoongi let out a low chuckle.

"Tell me," I order Jungkook, who immediately caves like a house of cards during an earthquake.

"I j-just said that you were cute-”

"Bullshit!"

Jungkook shoots a livid glare over my shoulder at the blue-haired boy, "And, I said that I wanted to p-play with your nipple piercings… That I bet they make you look even prettier, noona. I'm sorry."

"Oh, baby," I say, stroking his reddened cheeks, "You know what? I think I just might let you."

"Really?" Jungkook looks like his birthday had arrived early.

"Really!?" Taehyung sounds like his birthday had been cancelled indefinitely.

"Really," I confirm, whipping off my hoodie. The various curses and groans reach my ears as I toss the hoodie right at Taehyung's slack-jawed face.

"Fuck, baby,” Seokjin hisses a breath through his teeth, "You weren't wearing a bra this whole time?"

"Huh?" I glance down only to be greeted by my bare skin, "Oh, shit."

"You came here. To this house. Without a bra?" A commanding voice sounds from the doorway, "Oh, babygirl, that's a dangerous move."

I face Namjoon, with my hands on my hips, nipples shamelessly pointed straight at him, "Dangerous? For me or for you?"

He cracks a slow smile, "Both." God, he looks to die for tonight - black cargo-pants, tight black t-shirt, black boots. My eyes latch onto the silver chain clasped around his neck and wonder if he’d let me pull him closer with it.

An impatient hand tugs on mine. "N-noona, will you still let me touch you?" Jungkook diverts my attention from the depths of Namjoon's dark eyes.

"Of course, Kookie," I link my fingers through his and turn to address the problematic king on the bed, "Taehyung, move over."

A flicker of hope sparks in Tae’s eyes as he immediately shifts to make room. I make my way over to the bed, dragging Jungkook with me.

"Jungkook, sit with your back against the headboard," I turn to Taehyung, "You, no touching."

"But-!"

"You're lucky I'm even letting you stay," I shoot him a glance, inwardly cursing at how tempting he looks sprawled out and gazing hungrily at me. Why did he have to be so insufferable?

Shifting to look at the boy practically bouncing on the bed with anticipation, I smile, "Can I sit on your lap, Jungkook?”

"Fuck yes," he breathes out, tongue darting to wet his lower lip.

A completely diabolical and sadistic idea pops into my brain. I slowly walk to the foot of the bed. The room quiets as I lean forward and climb on the bed. On all fours, I slowly crawl towards Jungkook, holding eye-contact.

He swallows hard, eyes darting every so often to my chest. Finally, I settle onto his lap and smile victoriously at the thick bulge I feel there.

“So unfair," Jungkook sighs, tilting his head back with his eyes squeezed shut, "You make me so hard, (y/n)-noona.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” the corners of my mouth quirk into a small smile, “Now, do you want to play with me? Or should I ask someone else?"

Jungkook’s mouth latches onto my left nipple and sucks. His hand moves up my back and then eases around my body to cup my other breast in his hold. I jolt as he pinches my nipple without warning, a surge of pleasure swells from deep within me.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” I hum and grind my hips down onto his, craving more friction. His tongue swirls around my piercing, and my breath catches.

"Fuck," I hear one of the boys choke out.

My eyes shoot open in search of the source and widen once I find it. Namjoon’s head is thrown back as Jimin kisses and sucks on his neck. Namjoon’s eyes remain heatedly on me as he murmurs, “Such a good boy.” Jimin and I both shiver as Namjoon’s words drip like honey off his tongue.

“Now, Jiminie,” Namjoon latches a hand through Jimin’s pink hair and tugs him away from his neck. The younger boy pouts. Namjoon ignores him, continuing, “Why don’t we show (y/n) how Kook likes to be kissed?”

At the mention of his name, Jungkook ceases his worshipping and whines, “Hyung, that’s not fair!”

“Not fair?” Taehyung’s indignant cry is immediate, “You just had (y/n)’s nipple in your mouth, and you think this is unfair?” I look over at the irate boy, who looks thoroughly wrecked despite not having even been touched. His light blue hair is a mess, red bandana long since removed. One ring-adorned hand is pressed solidly over the bulge in his jeans. The other is thrashing wildly in the air as he articulates his point.

“Taehyung,” Namjoon growls, “Enough.”

Taehyung wisely shuts up.

A timid knock breaks the tense silence. “Hey, Pres?” A hesitant voice calls through the solid wood, “We have a situation downstairs.”

“God-fucking-damnit,” Namjoon curses and turns to me, "(y/n), baby, I have to go deal with this."

I shrug and reach for my discarded sweatshirt next to Taehyung, "I should get going anyway. My friends are probably waiting for me."

"But Noona!" Jungkook's grip tightens on my hips as I tug on my top, "When will we get to see you again?"

"Jungkook, honey, this campus is only so big. Besides, you all have my SnapChat." I cock my head, "How did you get that by the way?"

"Well, would you look at the time!" Jin lurches to his feet, "I need to go get ready for bed."

“Kim Seokjin, I swear to god," I shimmy off of a pouting Jungkook, "If you step one toe out that door, I will burn your plushie collection."

"Yah," he exclaims, "How do you know that I even have plushies?"

I shoot him a deadpan expression and point to one of the many pictures of Seokjin on Tae's walls. This particular Polaroid displays a sleeping Jin amongst a plethora of plushies that all seem to be the same alpaca of some sort.

"Taehyungie, you little shit!” Jin sprints to the photo and tears it from the wall. Shoving the picture in the culprit's face, Jin rants, "When did you take this? Why did you take this?"

"Last week," Tae answers and shrugs, looking thoroughly unapologetic, "I thought you looked cute."

Jin huffs, "Well, that's a given.” He turns to me, “Please leave my babies out of this.”

“Don't worry, big boy," I grin up at his handsome face, "I'll just think of something else… something much, much worse."

He purses his full lips in a mock-pout. I melt. "Aw, you're so cute." I reach up and squish his cheeks together.

"Don't fall for it, (y/n)!" Hoseok yells, spurring yet another argument amongst the boys.

“Honestly,” I shake my head in bewilderment, “How do y’all even successfully date?”

“I ask myself that every damn day,” Min Yoongi smiles up at me from the floor.

Before I can respond, another knock sounds at the door. “Come on, baby,” Namjoon reaches a hand out towards me, “I’ll walk you down.”

I accept his hand and stare as it completely envelops my own. Namjoon sees my attention and gives my hand a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” I call over my shoulder to the rest of the group, “I’ll see y’all around, I guess?”

I’m faced with six grown-ass babies with varying degrees of puppy-dog eyes.

“Remember to think about what we said, noona!” Jimin begs, “Consider going out with us, okay?”

“I’m not likely going to forget that seven dudes asked me to date them,” I smile wickedly, “That only happens to me occasionally.”

With that, I walk out the door with Namjoon and revel in the chaos I left behind me.

“Occasionally?” Hoseok cries.

“I’m going to do some recon. These rivals must be eliminated.” Yoongi seethes.

“Noona wouldn’t pick another group over us, right?” Jungkook pauses, “Oh my god, she would.”

Namjoon slams the door behind us and laughs, “You’re such an instigator.”

“You right,” I nod.

Namjoon and I trail down the hallway after the jittery pledge who had interrupted us. Descending the staircase, I survey the crowd below and fail to notice anything that would qualify as a ‘situation’.

Namjoon seems to agree. “Eric, if you dragged me down here for no reason, getting an infraction will be the least of your worries…”

Eric the pledge gulps, “Pres, I swear, they’re outside.” His gaze shifts to me for a split second before returning to Namjoon, “They said they aren’t leaving until they speak to one of you. Alone.”

I huff, “I can take a hint, Eric. This is obviously ‘frat business’ or whatever.” Namjoon hides a smile behind his hand at my use of air quotes, and I do not appreciate him finding my annoyance humorous. I shoot him a murderous stare before locating Luna and Jenni from across the room.

“Bye, Joon,” I salute him and turn to head towards my friends. I barely make it one step before his hand catches my wrist.

His mouth brushes my ear as he says softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” He gives my hand a squeeze and then disappears into the crowd with Eric.

Goddamnit. I had forgotten about volunteering. These boys are slowly but surely infiltrating my life, and I’m not at all sure on how I feel about it. My feet drag across the room until I reach my friends.

“Ready to go?” Luna questions, linking her arm through mine.

“Ready to be interrogated?” Jenni smiles evilly, assessing the mess that I am.

“Yes and no,” I groan, pulling them both outside. Starting our trek home, I field questions from both my friends. Somewhere far behind us, a girl shrieks something about being lettered, and I thank the stars that someone else has drama besides me…

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:45am

The infuriating sound of my phone vibrating with a number of incoming texts jolts me awake. Who the fuck dares to wake me up before my alarm? I grab my phone from its resting position on my nearby nightstand and almost fall out of my bed in the process.

“I’ll kill him,” I mutter darkly as I read the name displayed across my screen. It radiates an offensive mix of terrible grammar and narcissism.

Worldwide Handsome 3 New Messages

“This better be fucking good.” My fingers angrily swipe at the notification, opening the messages. I knew exactly who these messages were from. When did that bastard even get to my phone and add his contact information? How did he bypass my password? What kind of sorcery?

Worldwide Handsome 8:45am: “You up, beautiful?” 8:45am: “We’re picking you up in 20!!” 8:46am: “Wear something cute!!!! ;)”

(Y/N) 8:46am: “…Did you say WE???” 8:46am: Also, when and how the fuckity fuck did you get into my phone?” 8:47am: “ACTUALLY, NO – HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET MY ADDRESS?”

Worldwide Handsome 8:47am: “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

(Y/N) 8:48am: “You are NOT a magician, you dweeb.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:48am: “Abracadabra, bish.”

(Y/N) 8:49am: “I can’t stand you.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:50am: “15 minutes!!!”

(Y/N) 8:50am: “15 minutes until I strangle you with my bare hands!!!”

Worldwide Handsome 8:53am: “Strangle? Sounds kinky… I’m into it.” 8:55am: “I’m bringing you coffee. What kind do you want?”

(Y/N) 8:55am: “Did I say strangle? I meant *hug you tightly and shower you with praise*!!!” 8:56am: “The largest size possible, please! Black.” 8:56am: “I’ll pay you back.”

Worldwide Handsome 8:56am: “That’s more like it!!” 8:56am: “And don’t even think about it… Papa Seokjin provides all.” 8:57am: “See you in 10.”

Egad! I spring out of bed and get dressed at the speed of light, grabbing the nearest t-shirt and pair of jeans. Shoving my feet into my trusty work-boots, I stumble into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

‘Man, I look rough today’ is the first thought that pops into my brain as I look in the mirror; but I quickly correct that bad thought with: ‘Bitch, you look fine. Stop hating.’

Ever since I learned about cognitive restructuring in my Behavioral Psychology class, I have been attempting to practice it in my own life. The process of challenging my negative thoughts has been so fucking hard, but it’s definitely helped my self-esteem and stress.

Throwing my hair into a messy bun, I hear my phone buzz. Shit, that must be Seokjin. Who even knew why that fucker had decided to come along to volunteering with Namjoon and me. I wasn’t going to turn down an extra set of hands though… For volunteering purposes, of course.

Six subsequent buzzes demand my attention.

Worldwide Handsome 9:08am: “We’re here.” 9:09am: “Get your sweet ass out here.” 9:09am: “You better not have fallen back asleep…” 9:09am: “Don’t make me come in there!” 9:10am: “If you aren’t down here in 30 seconds, I’m drinking your coffee.” 9:10am: “(Y/N).” 9:10am: “THAT’S IT. SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR COFFEE.”

That last text has my ass in high gear as I book it down the steps and out the front door. Barely remembering to lock it behind me, I come to an abrupt halt as I come face to face with an all-too-put-together-for-9am Seokjin.

He leans against Namjoon’s infuriatingly gorgeous black Tesla looking like he’s about to shoot a cover for Men’s Health – Construction Edition. My eyes narrow in on the large coffee cup in his hand and narrow further when he slowly brings it up to his full lips.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn.

He sips it.

“You’ve just declared war,” I announce and stride over to him. Attempting to pull the coffee out of his palm and failing, I decide to take drastic measures.

Slowly rising to my toes, I act as if I’m going to kiss his cheek; but at the last second, I turn and bite his earlobe.

“What the fuck!” Seokjin yells way too loudly for the peaceful early morning. Victoriously, I grab my coffee, back away from him, and take a giant sip.

Yes, that sweet, sweet caffeine…

Seokjin rubs his ear and laughs slightly, “Babe, you’re really fucking scary before coffee.”

I nod in affirmation.

“Come on,” he gestures to his car and opens the passenger door for me, “Namjoon will have my ass on a platter if I take too much of your attention, and I know you’ll be heartbroken by the loss of such perfection.”

“You’re insufferable,” I reply, fighting a smile and losing.

“I know,” he grins and leans over the open car-door between us to kiss me. “Morning,” he murmurs in greeting against my lips.

I smile and kiss him again in reply. And then I remember my coffee.

Seokjin pouts at the loss of my lips as I take a cherished sip of the best part of my morning.

As I slide into the front seat, I hear him muttering about how he never should have bought that coffee. Grinning to myself, I buckle my seatbelt and look around the Tesla. Namjoon smiles at me from the driver’s seat, and I automatically swoon under the power of his dimples.

“Buckled?” he asks, as he adjusts the mirrors and flicks on the Bluetooth radio. The distinct sound of Kendrick Lamar fills the air. I nod and watch as he puts the car in drive, his muscles flexing.

His right hand extends across the console to rest on my left thigh and gives it a quick squeeze. I’m thoroughly distracted as I fixate on the hand that has now taken up residence on my leg.

“Hi, noona!” A chorus of two cries from the backseat. My body jolts.

“Ah! Stop, I could’ve dropped my coffee!” I steady my drink before turning to investigate the backseat that I had mistakenly (READ: tragically) thought would be empty. Taehyung and Jimin grin back at me from the seats beside Jin.

“Well, why didn’t you just bring everyone,” I drawl, raising an eyebrow at Namjoon, who just sighs in defeat.

“I mean… I kind of did,” he aims a glare through the rearview mirror, “I’m taking these losers, and Jungkook, Hobi and Yoongi are meeting us there. They refused to miss spending ‘quality time’ with you.”

“I’m going to kill someone,” I mutter under my breath, “Probably Taehyung.”

“At least wait until we exit the vehicle, please,” Namjoon chuckles, “I just got new seats.”

Habitat Worksite – 9:25am

When we finally arrive at the worksite, we step out of the car and head over to where Eddie is currently handing out tasks to different volunteers. I smile at a few familiar faces I see as we draw closer.

“(Y/n)-doll!” Eddie booms and walks over to greet us, “Came here with this one, did ya? And who are these boys?” He gestures towards my harem.

“Yes, sir,” Namjoon grins, quite unbothered by Eddie’s papa bear act, “A couple that carpools together stays together. Go green!”

I shake my head at his idiocy as Eddie splutters to come up with a response. “Don’t listen to him, Eddie. He’s full of shit. We are all just friends. Now, what can we help with today?”

“Yes,” Eddie clears his throat, shooting Namjoon dark look, “(y/n), I need you out front to help me orient a group of volunteers scheduled for one of those work retreat days…”

Fuck. The last group that I helped orient was a nightmare. They were supposedly here for a day of service and team-building, but all they did was fuck around and fuck up the siding. The men in the group refused to listen to my instructions on how to properly do things.

According to their mouthy ringleader, the fact that I had a pair of tits and a vagina made me incapable of knowing the tiniest bit of information about construction, whereas their dicks apparently came with an encyclopedia of knowledge on the subject.

I had almost decked him in the face, but I settled for placing a nice call to his place of employment later that day with an unsavory report on his behavior.

Eddie notices my glowering face and quickly looks away, “Namjoon, I need you to help out Matt and Paul inside to mix and pour some cement. The rest of you can follow me.”

The boys all give varying answers of agreement.

“Grab some gloves and glasses, you two. (Y/n), meet me back out front. Namjoon, Matt and Paul are already inside. They’ll show you the ropes.”

With that, Eddie beelines away from us before I can protest my assigned role. Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung trail sadly behind him, shooting jealous glances over their shoulders at Namjoon.

Namjoon ignores them and eyes my homicidal expression. He cautiously asks, “What’s wrong?”

“The goddamn patriarchy is what’s wrong, Kim,” I grit out through my clenched teeth and stalk towards the supply trailer.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he trails after me, “My mom says that toxic masculinity always ruins the party.”

“God, I love her,” My mood elevates instantly, “Please marry me so I can be her daughter-in-law.”

He laughs, looking through the bin of gloves for a pair large enough for him while handing me a smaller pair. “Where’s my ring?”

“You already have like seven rings. Pull an Ariana and give some away,” I hand him a pair of protective glasses, keeping one for myself. “Anyway, please don’t forget that you’re my ride and leave without me.”

“Forget? Babe, you’ve taken up permanent residence in my mind since Tae pointed you out last semester.”

“Oh, stop,” I dismiss him, waving the pair of gloves in his direction.

He suddenly steps into me. The my small of my back hits the edge of the makeshift work desk latched to the trailer wall. “You know, I’ve noticed you really don’t take some of our compliments seriously...” He looms over me, lips pressed to my throat, “I guess I'm gonna have to change that.”

Namjoon scoops me off the floor by my waist and balances my ass on the edge of the desk. My arms circle his shoulders on instinct and his grip tightens on my hips. When he glances down at me, he lets out a rough breath which sounds like I’m torturing him.

He kisses me, his tongue playing with mine, twining around it, enticing mine to follow. Gravity tries to drag me down off the desk and our mouths separate. Namjoon hoists me up higher with a firm hand on the back of my thigh.

His mouth slams back over mine, and I swear the way he kisses can be felt all the way down to my bones. His wide palm curves around my waist, pulling me further into him. “Damn," he pants, resting his forehead on mine.

BANG. A knock sounds from outside the trailer, “You better not be up to no good in there, you two!” Eddie’s rumbling voice jolts us apart and my head snaps against the wall of the trailer.

A series of obscenities pours from my mouth as I grasp the back of my head. “You good?” Namjoon asks as he lifts me off the desk and back onto the floor.

“I’ll live… barely,” I lament.

He just shakes his head in amusement, “So dramatic, babe. Come on, let’s go do some service.”

a/n: a slight cliffhanger (but not really, hehe); also i didn’t have a beta read over this chapter bc i wanted to post ASAP so plz be kind if there are mistakes UWU

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @heterophobez @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @queen-of-astrology–roses @blu-butterfly69 @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerandomblog @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @toddsgirl27 @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @briannasthings @quotedcryptid @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @noonaduck @kookoo-kachoo

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quasieli · 4 years ago

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top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me.

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous.

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation.

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic.

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year.

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12).

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better.

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best.

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her.

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First!

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience.

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao.

#asks #ask games #floralprintshark #D&D #Flowers #Saube #Sauhety #SICL #Sparks #long post #thanks <3 <3

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years ago

Text

Day 2: The Haymitch Who Stole Christmas

And on this second day of Hayffismas, I give you some good old crack with steam and feelings on top! [FF] or [AO3]

Nobody Can Steal Christmas From Effie Trinket

“Haymitch.” Effie sing-sang cheerfully, impatiently tapping the top of her heeled shoe against the floor. “We are past fashionably late! Do hurry!”

She inspected her reflection in the mirror that faced the elevator, studying her golden and white dress critically. She looked like a magnificent bird. The skirt part was long and flowed down to the floor and the top part was like a sleeveless jacket made entirely of white feather adorned with golden paint. It was lovely. Exquisite.

And it would be the talk of the evening if they showed up before the red carpet was over.

She usually loved Christmas and its numerous parties but this year, she was stressed out.

Annie Cresta’s Victory Tour was a phenomenal nightmare. Not that it was official, of course, everything was all hush-hush and need-to-know only, but Seneca was so exhausted with the whole thing he had told her all about it the other night at dinner. The poor girl was so disturbed still they were forced to keep her appearances short and even Finnick Odair in all his glory couldn’t compensate the elusiveness of the new victor all by himself.

The solution to that problem had been to bring back as many victors as possible to the city for the duration of the Tour and the holidays as a decoy. And it was working. The Capitol was not looking at the expense to throw luscious parties every day, keeping the Games’ dream alive. Effie loved Christmas and she was having a lot of fun at all those themed parties.

But she was also tasked with babysitting a very grumpy Haymitch – who, as she had been told numerous times, hated Christmas, hated the city and didn’t understand why he needed to be there at all given that nobody wanted to see the drunk victor from Twelve anyway – and that was a constant source of stress. He seemed to be acting out even more than usual, getting drunk with Chaff at all times of day under the pretext of sampling mulled wine and being very vocal about his lack of love for the holidays.

Which had led to more than one fight and she had lost count of how many lectures and rants.

Earlier that afternoon, she had firmly and very seriously told him that she didn’t intend to let him ruin her fun that night. It was Christmas Eve and she wouldn’t let him spoil it for her. She had insisted he was to show up ready to celebrate and that she didn’t care where he would find it but that he better had summoned some Christmas spirit.

He had scoffed and told her to go to hell, of course, but she thought the part about her swearing to not let him touch her for a very, very long time if he didn’t had caught his attention.

Now if only he could be on time…

Finally, she heard a door slam down the corridor that led to the bedrooms and she rolled her eyes before checking that her right fake eyelashes were holding. It seemed heavier than the other one and the tiny golden stars on it kept flickering in her sight every time she blinked. Her reflection looked alright to her though so she supposed she would simply have to bear the discomfort.

“You look like a goose.” Haymitch grumbled as a greeting.

She pursed her lips and turned toward him to tell him in no uncertain terms that he was a ruffian with no sense of fashion but the words died on her lips.

She stared.

Honestly, what else was she supposed to do?

He was wearing antlers. Plushy brown reindeer antlers.

And an awful Christmas sweater over his pressed shirt and tie.

Her first reaction was to be pleased he had taken her request to get into the spirit to heart. Her second was to try to find the diplomatic words to tell him to get rid of the whole thing because they were going to a party with cameras, not to someone’s Christmas brunch – and, then again, she wasn’t sure it would have been appropriate to wear that sort of things at a casual brunch anyway, they weren’t fashionable. Her third reaction was to look more closely at the sweater.

She forgot all about the antlers when she realized that what she had mistaken for an ugly – and yet seasonal – Christmas sweater was a fraud.

“Please. Do tell me this Santa Claus is not urinating the words ‘Merry Christmas’ on your chest.” she requested in a terse tone.

The Santa was fortunately turning his back on the world so nothing untoward could be seen. But the yellow spray was definitely supposed to be urine. She was certain. She supposed that made the white background snow.

How classy.

Not to mention typically male. Why they were always so proud of being able to urinate while standing up was beyond her…

“You said to gear up for Christmas.” he shrugged with nonchalance. “That’s me. All geared up.”

She narrowed her eyes at him – which had the unfortunate effect of making her almost blind on her right side because of those irritating fake eyelashes. “Where did you even find this?”

“Well, you also said I should learn to like Christmas shopping…” he mocked, pressing the elevator’s call button. As if she would ever allow him to leave like that. She swiftly moved between him and the elevator doors but that didn’t seem to disturb him at all. “Chaff and I found this little shop… You were right. Lots of fun. Wait until you see his sweater, sweetheart.”

“Chaff may do whatever he wants on his own escort’s terms.” she hissed. “You are not wearing this monstrosity to the party.” She pouted. “I will be nice and let you keep the antlers. It is appropriately whimsical, I suppose.”

“Whimsical.” he repeated in that mocking tone that meant he thought she was being condescending. “Can’t you say funny like everyone else? What do you’ve got to talk like a dictionary for?”

“To compensate your dreadful use of grammar.” she deadpanned. The elevator chimed behind her back and she hastily spread her arms when she heard the doors opening, barring his path. “Take the sweater off.”

“No way.” he refused. “I like it.”

“Of course, you do.” she gritted through her teeth. “Then, you can wear it tomorrow morning for Christmas breakfast. It will only be you and me and I will make the effort not to be offended. But tonight, you are taking it off.”

“Always so eager to take my clothes off.” he taunted, pushing past her and into the elevator.

She glared at him. “You are not going to this party like this, Haymitch.”

He defiantly pressed the ground floor’s button. “Looks like I am, Trinket.”

“I will murder you.” she threatened. The doors were closing and she sneaked between them before she could be left behind – she had no doubt he would leave her behind. “I swear. If you try to get into the car with this thing on your back I will…”

“Do your worst.” he smirked.

He wasn’t going to cave.

She had been Haymitch’s escort for eight years now. She knew him. This wasn’t just a simple case of pushing her buttons for the pleasure of annoying her but eventually giving in to her pleas. He wasn’t going to cave. This was probably a planned prank that involved Chaff and the two of them intended to show up with shameful tasteless sweaters come hell or high waters.

She wasn’t sure if she hoped Viola had actually managed to stop her own victor or not. She didn’t want those two idiots to get the satisfaction of pulling this out but she didn’t want to be the only escort unable to control her victor either.

It was harmless enough, she figured. People would laugh, Caesar would have them on air to talk about it, Haymitch would gloat and she would rant… Same old, same old.

But still… At the end of the day, she would be the butt of the joke because she was the one who was in charge of his PR.

“Why do you hate me so?” she pouted, tugging on the hem of the sweater.

“So many reasons.” he snorted. “You want a complete list?”

She deepened her pout, looking up at him from under her fake eyelashes in her best kicked puppy impersonation. She fingered the soft wool, inching it up slowly so she could run her free palm over the shirt he had underneath…

It was a nice shirt. The one that went with the tuxedo he had been supposed to be wearing.

There would be no jacket and that would be a fashion faux-pas but at least he would be presentable. Now if only she could convince him to take it off for a second… They might be too late for the red carpet then but priorities.

“You ain’t gonna fuck me out of this sweater.” he warned, more amused than turned on. “But I don’t mind you trying, Princess.”

She huffed and stepped away from him, her pouting turning into a genuine sulk. “I hate you.”

“Right.” he drawled out, taunting.

She refused to bite.

“I am not speaking to you again while you are wearing this thing.” she declared.

“Shit. I’m never gonna take it off now.” he chuckled.

The car trip was short but it felt endless. Mainly because he kept trying to make her break her oath not to talk to him by plucking feathers from her lovely dress. At least until she kicked his leg with the blunt of her stiletto – that made him stop, if only because he needed both hands to rub his now bruised shin.

It was immediately clear to her they were amongst the last to arrive and she distanced herself from him as much as possible, posing for pictures and waving at fans but being very careful not to be caught on camera next to Haymitch. His sweater and his antlers were getting him a lot of attention but it was the sort she could do without.

She didn’t find it as hilarious as everyone else.

The hotel the party was at was gorgeous. There were ice sculptures everywhere, a giant Christmas tree and fake snowflakes slowly pouring down from the ceiling… It looked like a winter wonderland.

Haymitch seized two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and handed her one. She took it but only because it was a necessary accessory at a party – not because she had forgiven him or was swayed by this rare show of manners.

It didn’t take her long to spot another pair of antlers in the crowd. She gasped when she caught sight of Chaff’s sweater though. She had thought he would be wearing a matching one to Haymitch’s not…

“Please, tell me those three reindeers are not doing what I think they are doing.” she begged.

“They’re not.” Haymitch replied. “Unless you think they’re having a threesome. ‘Cause… They’re clearly not dancing the rumba, sweetheart.”

“Oh my…” she let that sentence trail off, blinked and took a generous sip of champagne. “I need something stronger. Do not get wasted, Haymitch, I mean it. I am not carrying you back.”

She headed to the bar, allowing him to go join his friend and laugh about that prank they had pulled all their might. And laugh, they did. They were ridiculous. Like children.

“Your tasteless fashion sense has rubbed on Haymitch, I see.” Viola commented, sliding between her and the group of people next to her and signaling the bartender she wanted the same thing Effie had ordered. “Did he have to get my victor involved?”

“I rather think your victor is the real culprit here.” she scoffed. “He is always getting mine in trouble.”

Eleven’s escort eyed her up and down with disdain. “You look like a bird. What is even this dress?”

“The trend everyone will follow tomorrow.” she retorted with a charming smile. “What are you wearing? Last month’s outfit?”

Viola scoffed, grabbed the drink the bartender had poured her and disappeared in the crowd, no doubt to talk ill about her lovely dress. Effie smoothed her ruffled feathers – metaphorical and otherwise – and started mingling too.

Those cocktails were strong though and she felt tipsy before long. She tended not to drink when Haymitch was, so one of them would be sober in case some emergency damage control was needed, but it was Christmas and at Christmas she let loose. Still, when the room started swaying, she decided to quit for the night. She ended up perched on the armrest of the armchair her victor had commandeered, glaring at Chaff’s sweater in distaste.

“Face it, love…” Eleven’s victor joked, wriggling his eyebrows. “You wanna be the middle reindeer…”

She wrinkled her nose and Haymitch’s hand landed on her thigh, a not so subtle possessive declaration faced with that disgusting innuendo.

“Crass.” she grumbled, swaying dangerously. Those cocktails had been a little too much. Everywhere she looked, everyone seemed completely wasted.

“Careful.” Haymitch muttered, sneaking his arm behind her back because she had almost lost her balance. “Can’t you use a chair like a normal person? What happened to ladies don’t sit on furniture?” She confusedly admitted he had a point and she was too tipsy to trust her balance so she did the natural thing and slid down onto his lap. His arm immediately wrap around her waist in reflex. He scowled. “Great. Now we’re fifteen.”

Chaff, meanwhile, was laughing like it was the best joke.

Effie shifted until she was sitting sideway with a clear view of the urinating Santa. She poked it hard with her sharp nail, prompting a groan of pain out of Haymitch.

“I will not let you steal Christmas away from me, you grumpy bear.” she declared.

“Oh, you’re her bear, now, buddy.” Chaff chortled. “This keeps getting better and better. The boy’s gonna be sorry he missed it.”

Effie glared at Eleven’s victor. “Stop mocking me. Haymitch, tell him to stop mocking me. It is not nice. He is hurting my feelings, that makes me nauseous.”

“That’s probably all the booze you drank, Princess.” Haymitch teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I am less drunk than you are… I am always less drunk than you are. And do you know why? Because I am the responsible one.”

“Sure, you are.” he humored her.

“Hate to break it to you but you’re toasted, love.” Chaff chuckled, tilting his glass in her direction.

Effie decided to ignore him. She turned her attention to the antlers on Haymitch’s head instead. She brushed her fingers along their length, up and down again and again, humming in surprised pleasure at the plushy texture. “It is so soft… I could touch it all night.”

Chaff was laughing so hard he bent in two.

“Quit it.” Haymitch grumbled. “Seriously. She’s got a point, you know. You act like you’re five sometimes.” But a smile was tugging at his own lips and he took off his antlers to plant them on her head. “Here, sweetheart. You keep the soft stuff on your own head but don’t touch it like that, yeah? You’re gonna give someone a boner.”

“Thank you.” she beamed at the gift, thanking him for his generosity by pressing a long peck on his cheek. It landed close to the corner of his mouth, which was really a big no-no in a crowded room. She wasn’t drunk enough not to realize that. She immediately bit down on her bottom lip, glancing around guiltily.

“Okay.” Haymitch snorted. “Time to call it a night, yeah?”

She nodded sheepishly. “Perhaps I am a little bit drunk.”

“Yeah. Just a little bit.” he teased, reaching out to clap Chaff’s shoulder. “You want to ride back with us?”

“Do not offer him to ride with us.” Effie protested. “He will think you mean it like those reindeers of his. He has a dirty mind, you know.”

“Thought it was rude to talk about people in front of them or some shit?” he rebuked, eyes twinkling with mirth, giving his knee a little shake to jostle her.

She pouted. Both because he was right and she didn’t like being scolded about her manners and because her stomach didn’t feel that good.

“That’s fine, buddy.” Chaff refused, clearly not offended since he was still laughing. “I’m gonna try to find a bird to pluck.”

“Charming.” Effie commented under her breath.

“Come on. Up.” Haymitch demanded jerking his legs again. That was directed at her, she figured, and she stood up, surprised by the suddenly tilting world. Haymitch’s hand was at the small of her back before she could fall though, his other one gripping her forearm tight. She wasn’t sure how he had moved so fast. Or maybe it was her who was slow. He didn’t look so amused now. “You know I hate those role reversals, right? Let’s go, sweetheart.”

She let him stir her away toward the exit and usher her to the car. There were a few flashes but there weren’t as many people outside as usual. It was Christmas after all, people had other things to do than stalk celebrities.

She curled up against his side in the car, manhandling his arm until it was wrapped around her. He sighed with clear annoyance but let her cuddle him – to her absolute delight. Well, the delight lasted until the car started moving, then she buried her face in that awful – but surprisingly soft – sweater.

“I feel sick.” she complained.

“Try not to puke on me.” was his only request.

“You would deserve it.” she mumbled against his sweater. “You tried to spoil Christmas.”

She didn’t need to look to know he was rolling his eyes.

She was a little sleepy by the time the car arrived at the Center and she refused to move when he tried to get out of the car.

“Are there people outside?” she asked.

He glanced out the open door and then shrugged. “Just the Peacekeepers.”

“Good.” she declared. “Then you can carry me.”

He did a double take at that and then snorted. “Like hell. You’re walking.”

“No.” she sulked, moving away from him just enough to outstretch her arms. “I am tired and drunk and it is all your fault.”

“How is it my fault you got shit-faced?” he scoffed.

“You urinated on my Christmas.” she retorted, pointing at the guilty Santa on his chest. “It upset me and I drank to forget.”

“You get upset over the smallest stuff.” he dismissed, getting out of the car before she could make a grab for him. “Get out of here. It’s freezing outside.”

“Carry me.” she repeated.

He pursed his lips in annoyance. “I hate when you’re acting like a spoiled brat. You walk or I’m leaving you here.”

“You would never leave me here alone!” she gasped.

“Wanna bet?” he challenged.

“Fine.” she snapped, dramatically flopping down on the car bench seat, letting her legs dangle out the door. “Leave me here for any passing ruffian to do what they want to my poor drunk body.”

She was confident there were enough Peacekeepers around that she was perfectly safe. She might even convince one of them to carry her up to the penthouse. After all, she wasn’t without charms. Haymitch was simply impervious to them.

“Alright, then.” he shrugged. “Night, sweetheart.”

He turned and left. He actually strode away toward the Center’s doors. Effie lifted her head to watch him go and then dropped it back down, staring at the ceiling of the car and trying to force herself to move. But she was drunk and tired and her feet were hurting her.

And he wouldn’t leave her.

Would he?

Deep down she wasn’t sure and it upset her even more than the urinating Santa. Her lips started wobbling and she hastily blinked away the tears that suddenly burned her eyes, making the uncomfortable right fake eyelashes even more problematic. He would leave her to be possibly assaulted. He would. And on Christmas Eve too! He was horrible and she hated him. She did. And she didn’t have feelings. Not at all. Because that would be bad. And…

Someone brutally grabbed her legs and pulled her out of the car. She shrieked in fright because for all her talk about possible danger she had never thought…

“You’re fucking impossible.” Haymitch spat, tossing her over his shoulder like a caveman. “Fucking impossible.”

She shrieked even harder. “That is not a proper way to carry a lady!”

“You’re not a lady, you’re a drunk mess.” he riposted. “Quit that screaming or I swear I’m dropping you here and I won’t come back this time.”

But he had come back so she stopped shouting.

The position was making her face burn as blood rushed to her head though. And the pressure of his shoulder digging in her stomach… “I do not feel good.”

“You don’t say.” he grumbled. “Like I care.” But as soon as he had pressed the call button of the elevator, he put her back down on her own two feet. His grey eyes studied her, concern replaced by irritation when he realized she wasn’t about to be sick. “You’re a spoiled brat.”

It was the second time he had accused her of that tonight.

“You tried to ruin Christmas.” she hissed back.

“Fuck, you’re a broken record tonight, ain’t you?” he scowled. “What’s so important to you about Christmas anyway? I swear you’re like a kid.”

She pouted and tried to step into the elevator gracefully once the doors opened but all she managed to do was stumble on the long hem of her dress and fall. She didn’t break her neck but she hit her knees hard and she looked up with eyes full of tears when Haymitch burst out laughing.

“Shit, it’s almost worth not being completely wasted.” he commented.

She sat down and sniffed, both in pain and bruised pride, letting him push the right button as she bundled her dress to her waist to inspect the damage. She didn’t care if he could see the white lacy thong she had on underneath – or maybe she did a little and she was doing it on purpose, it was punishment because he certainly wasn’t going to touch it or take it off now.

“You’re not hurt, yeah?” he asked.

Far too late in her opinion.

She didn’t think she was hurt.

“I told you I did not want to walk.” she pointed out. “This is your fault.”

“Sure. Blame it on peeing Santa. Makes sense.” he deadpanned, crouching next to her to take a look at her legs. His palm was warm when he rubbed it against her knees and shins. “You want me to kiss it better, Princess?”

She tossed her dress back over her legs with a huff. “No.”

He chuckled but didn’t insist.

She busied herself taking off her shoes, wriggling her toes as soon as they were free to get rid of the ache in her soles. Her ankles were a little swollen but she didn’t think that was from the fall, more likely it was from being up on those tight stilettos all night.

The elevator eventually chimed when it reached the penthouse but she wasn’t sure she knew how to get up without falling again. Haymitch took pity on her and grabbed her under the armpits, lifting her up like a child. She thought he had only aimed to pull her to her feet but she took advantage and locked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, clinging to him like a monkey.

He sighed but didn’t protest, carefully exiting the elevator, arms locked under her ass to support her. He was walking toward the bedrooms and she started struggling.

“No! We have to go to the living-room!” she protested.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Because it is Christmas and I want to see the tree.” she explained.

“The tree’s still gonna be there in the morning.” he argued. “You’re wasted and you need to go to bed before I strangle you for being such an irritating little shit.”

“I want to see the tree.” she ordered and she would have stomped her foot, had she been standing.

“You know… Try to pull a temper tantrum on me and I’m gonna dump you in a cold bath. We’re clear?” he threatened.

She pouted and unlocked her legs from around his waist, letting go of his neck once she was on her feet. “I will go by myself.”

He didn’t let go of her.

“You’re gonna fall and break your neck with this fucking dress.” he denied. “Stop being such a difficult bitch. I’m being nice here, yeah? I’m even gonna help you take that wig off if you just…”

He had a point about the dress and she stopped listening after that. Her clumsy fingers found the zipper hidden between feathers on her side and the fabric flooded down to her feet. She hadn’t realized how heavy it had been. She felt much lighter in only her thong.

Haymitch was suddenly very quiet.

Then again, he always tended to grow quiet once faced with her bare breasts.

“Ain’t gonna lie…” he said eventually. “Never though those antlers could look so hot.”

She patted her wig, having completely forgotten about the antlers perched over it. She shrugged and carefully stepped out of the fabric of the dress pooled around her feet before heading straight for the living-room. Or trying to, at least. Straight was a relative concept when the floor wouldn’t remain steady.

She was aware Haymitch was hovering behind her, ready to break a possible fall, but she was a woman on a mission and she wouldn’t get distracted.

The living-room had been entirely decorated for the holidays, of course, and the tree in the corner was impressive. As were the wrapped boxes underneath but she wasn’t after the gifts for now.

“Alright, you saw the tree.” Haymitch grumbled. “Now let’s get you to bed…”

“I want to watch the lights!” she argued. “I always watch the lights on Christmas Eve. It is tradition.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” he frowned.

Without paying him any more mind, she pushed a few of the gifts aside to make room for herself and lied down with her head right under the tree, grinning in bliss when she saw the twinkling lights overhead.

Haymitch waited for a moment but when it became clear she wasn’t going to do anything else but stare at the fairy lights, he headed to the liquor cart in the corner and poured himself a drink. She heard the ice clicking against the glass.

“I do not understand why you hate Christmas so.” she remarked.

“’Cause it’s fake.” he sneered. “Just another excuse for you lot to party and give gifts.”

“Gifts are important.” she nodded, missing the point. “You will love mine.”

She had bought him a gold pocket watch engraved with his initials. He would grumble and rant and swear he hated it but it was the type of fashionable accessories he actually loved and she knew he would like it.

“Shouldn’t have bought me one.” he retorted. “Told you I didn’t do Christmas. Don’t go thinking I got you something.”

“You got me a darling pair of shoes actually.” she hummed, patting the red gift with the golden ribbon to her right.

“What?” he frowned.

“You cannot not do gifts when you are in the city, Haymitch.” she sighed in a long-suffering tone. “Of course, I had to purchase gifts for you. I sent Chaff bourbon on your behalf. I trust he will enjoy it. As for myself, I chose shoes.”

“With what money?” he growled.

“I have your checkbook.” she reminded him.

“Oh, so you just forged my signature and stole my money, that’s it?” he scowled. “Tell me, sweetheart… How are you gonna like getting your tongue cut for theft?”

She laughed because he would never report her. And also she had been doing him a favor. He would have felt stupid when he would have realized that Chaff had sent him a gift and he had nothing to give back. As for her herself… She liked to call it compensation for all those years of hard work. And it hadn’t been that expensive anyway. And this way she was sure to get something she liked – because let’s be honest if she had given him the watch and he hadn’t had anything to exchange for it, he would have made a fuss about her buying him off or something and it would have ended in a fight where he would have eventually gone to buy something at random to make it even.

“I love Christmas.” she sighed happily.

“You like free shoes.” he accused.

“That too.” she smiled, peeling the annoying eyelashes off her right eye and taking off the left ones too for good measure. She blinked a few times, glad to be able to see properly again. “I am cold.”

“That happens when you lie naked on the floor in the middle of winter.” Haymitch remarked, amused.

She heard the clicking of ice coming closer and she patted the spot next to her before he could sit on the couch. “Come watch the lights with me.”

“What’s so special about watching a bunch of lights twinkle anyway?” he scoffed.

“You are a regular Grinch.” she complained.

“What does that even mean?” he asked.

But he did come closer.

Something dropped on her lap and she looked up to find his offensive Christmas sweater on a heap on her thighs. She wasn’t sure she was that cold but since he did sit down next to her, she made an effort and pulled it over her head.

“If you tell anyone I wore this I will deny it and destroy your reputation.” she warned, wrinkling her nose at the Santa that now paraded on her lower stomach.

“Don’t think I have much of a reputation left to ruin.” he mocked.

The sweater was warm from his having worn it and it was really soft so she just lied back down, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt so he would to. Their sides pressed together, the twinkling lights overhead, the smell of pine she always associated with Christmas tree… Effie was in heaven.

“I’m still not getting it.” Haymitch declared after a couple of minutes.

She sighed.

Her brain was slowed down by all the cocktails she had drunk earlier and now that she was warm and comfortable… It was difficult to keep track of her thoughts.

“Christmas is all about colors.” she tried to explain. “Colors everywhere. I love colors. It’s all bright and shiny… Happy… Pretty… Ice skating in secret… Hot chocolate even if I am not supposed to because I am a little princess and princesses are allowed hot chocolate even when they are on a diet…” Memories from long ago made her throat close up and she blinked, focusing on the lights. “I love colors…” she whispered. “They look so happy… Mother hates colors the rest of the year… Almost everyone does… They say they love them but it is all pretend… They wear colors out… Pretty bright colors… It is not their fault the world is so dull… They get washed out… They fade… And then everyone is angry with them for not being as bright and they toss them away, get new ones… But at Christmas, everything is color… Everything is happy… I love colors… So pretty…”

She reached out but before she could touch the fairy lights – and either make the tree crash over them or burn herself – he grabbed her hand. He had turned on his side at some point during her little slurred speech and he was watching her, studying her like he sometimes did, like he could see down to her soul, like the necessary masks she always put on didn’t fool him for one second…

“You’re so fucking bright, you’re blinding.” he offered quietly, squeezing her fingers. “You’re too bright to let them wash you out, sweetheart.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant but it sounded important somehow. She felt small and fragile like one of the glass ornaments on the tree.

“Do you promise?” she asked, a bit anxious even if she didn’t really understand.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheek and she let him turn her head toward him, she let him press a kiss against her lips. It was chaste and it wasn’t a promise because he never made promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

“I promise I’m never gonna try to ruin Christmas for you again.” he muttered against her mouth instead. “How’s that?”

“Good.” she grinned. “I love Christmas.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I think I got that.”

“I love my antlers too.” she added, reaching out to touch her soft plushy antlers. “Thank you.”

“You’re so gonna regret tonight in the morning…” he teased, his hand trailing from her cheek to her throat. It coiled loosely around the side of her neck. “No blaming me for you putting the peeing Santa on, yeah?”

“I have to go to my parents’ Christmas brunch in the morning.” she groaned, rolling on her side to curl up closer to him, pushing a knee between his legs so she could take advantage of his body heat.

“Skip it.” he shrugged.

“Mother would kill me.” she complained.

“I’ll be your bodyguard.” he smirked, clearly finding her drunk self hilarious.

It was tempting, truth be told, because brunches at her parents on Christmas were always tedious – brunches at her parents were tedious as a rule.

“What would we do instead?” she hummed, snuggling closer when he rolled on his back so she could use him as a pillow. She was tired and she wanted to sleep now. She didn’t mind if it was on a bed or on the floor. Her body felt so heavy…

“Fuck each other brainless?” he deadpanned.

“That does sound more fun.” she granted thoughtfully.

“Right? I’ll even add some hot chocolate to sweeten the deal.” he teased.

“Do you know how to do it right? With whipped cream and cinnamon?” she hummed sleepily.

“I know how to boil milk. You can teach me the rest.” he declared.

“Oh, but I cannot have hot chocolate with whipped cream…” she lamented, remembering too late. “The calories…”

“I’m gonna fuck the calories out of you.” he promised. “Besides, you’re a princess, yeah? Princesses are allowed hot chocolate. Seems like it’s a rule or something.”

“I am your princess, that is true…” She nuzzled his shoulder a little, stifling a yawn. “I think I will sleep now.”

“What? You mean you’re falling asleep on me?” he asked in a faked shocked voice. “Fucking didn’t notice.”

“Language.” she mumbled. “What will you do while I sleep? You will not leave, will you? You cannot leave me. You are my pillow.”

“I’m gonna watch the colors.” he said, a bit wistfully.

“Oh good, then.” She felt something being pulled off her head and she gasped a sleepy drunk gasp. “Do not steal my antlers! I love my antlers! You said they were a gift, you cannot have them back now.”

“Ain’t stealing them. Just putting them aside so you don’t crush them. Safe keeping, yeah?” He was rolling his eyes at her. She was sure he was rolling his eyes at her. “I’m gonna take the wig off too, alright? You hate sleeping with that stuff on, remember?”

She did. And there was a couple of pins digging in her skull. And she loved the way he ran his fingers in her hair once it was free.

The petting lulled her to sleep.

It was the best Christmas Eve ever, as far as she was concerned. Nobody could steal Christmas from her. Not even a grumpy Haymitch or an urinating Santa.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #hayffismas week #my hayffismas week #games time #crack #teapot #cuddles #fighting hayffie #coconuts friends #tipsy effie #chaff #viola #haymitch with feelings #holiday themed

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