#anyway this is sort of a ‘water is wet’ post like it’s obvious but we don’t talk about it enough | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sluttywonwoo · 3 years ago

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something more || h.js x reader

Summary: it’s a tale as old as time- your roommate walks in on you masturbating and things escalate from there

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

additional warnings: additional warnings: masturbation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, lowkey spit play

“Joshua! Come look at this!”

There were a lot of things you liked about your apartment. Cheap rent, nice views, mostly functioning air conditioning… however the gaping hole in your bedroom ceiling was not one of them. It had started out as a small leak a couple of weeks ago, water dripping from some imperceptible hole in the plaster that had slowly turned into a trickle and then a steady stream, until finally the ceiling had collapsed in on itself, unable to hold the weight of all of the water any longer. You had filed a maintenance request when you first noticed the leak, but it had gone ignored. Maybe now, now that your bed was covered in drywall and pipe water, now that you could see into the apartment above yours, your concerns would be important enough to be addressed.

“What is it?” your roommate called back.

You heard him approach and waited for the gasp that would follow. “Y/n…” he hissed, one hand over his mouth, the other gripping your shoulder in shock.

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know.”

You sighed and took a tentative step forward into your room, wincing when your sock made contact with your damp rug.

“I’ll call maintenance,” Joshua offered and turned on his heel to grab his phone.

“I’ll… try and figure my shit out, I guess.”

His footsteps faded into the background as he retreated into his own room and you looked around your room with a frown, surveying the space for anything salvageable. You were surprised you hadn’t started crying yet. But apparently your brain hadn’t quite caught up with your eyes because all you felt was a numb sort of apathy as you gazed at the mess in front of you.

There was no way you could sleep in your room tonight. Even if you managed to dry everything and clear the debris, there was still a giant fucking hole in the ceiling. The mere thought of trying to fall asleep underneath it made you uneasy. You would have to crash somewhere else.

“They said not to touch anything-” Joshua shouted from the other room. You froze in place, afraid you’d already done something you weren’t supposed to and decided to join him in the kitchen instead.

Your socks left wet footprints against the concrete floor as you padded over to where Joshua was. He shot you a look of sympathy as you peeled them off and tossed them to the side, shifting his attention back to the notepad on the table in front of him to write something the person on the other end of the phone was saying.

The pen hovered above the paper momentarily, and Joshua rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tomorrow? Is that the earliest- yeah that’s fine.”

The little hope you’d had that the issue would be resolved tonight fizzled, and you blew out a breath of frustration. You pulled out your phone and began scrolling through your contacts, mentally making notes of who might let you spend the night at their place.

Joshua thanked whoever he was talking to and hung up, pushing the notebook away from him with a groan.

“They’ll be here tomorrow morning,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Seungcheol.”

Joshua made a face. “Seung- why?”

“I’m going to ask if I can sleep over.”

“You haven’t talked to him in months,” your roommate protested.

“He’ll say yes to me,” you assured him.

“That’s because he expects you to sleep with him.”

“I know.”

“Y/n! You’re not seriously going to have sex with him in exchange for a place to stay, are you?”

“Well when you put it like that…” you trailed off and sighed. “Whatever, I’m not above it. It’s been a while since I’ve been laid anyway.”

“Seungcheol couldn’t even last thirty seconds-” he paused when you gave him a look, “I know from what you’ve told me. Not because I slept with him.”

“You know saying that makes it sound like that’s exactly why you know.”

“Please, y/n, I have taste,” he said matter-of-factly, easily dodging a swat from you. “You’re not sleeping at Seungcheol’s,” he said as if he’d decided, as if he had final say on the matter.

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Joshua?” you demanded. “I can’t sleep in my own room, and you know I can’t sleep on the couch so what do you suggest?”

“Take my room,” he offered simply, shrugging like it should have been obvious.

“What?”

“You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. You don’t even have to fuck me for it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well what do I have to do for it?”

You could tell Joshua wanted to say ‘nothing’, but knew you wouldn’t accept his offer without feeling like you could give him anything in return so he settled for “fried rice”.

“You want fried rice?”

“I want your fried rice,” he clarified with a grin. “You know it’s my favorite.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Fine. Thank you, Joshua.”

He gave you a knowing smile and nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

Joshua kept his room colder than yours. Your wet hair from the shower only made the chill worse, but you didn’t want to mess with the thermostat and throw off how he liked things. You were even hesitant to touch the pillows on his bed. You knew Joshua wouldn’t care, but you still wanted to respect his space.

Joshua was literally the most easygoing person you knew, which offered a nice balance in contrast to your high-strung, perfectionist personality. One time you’d bled on his sheets while you were just hanging out in his room and he was completely unphased. He just threw the bedding in the wash like nothing had happened and mentioned that he’d been needing to wash them anyway while you practically cried in embarrassment.

“It’s okay, y/n. I’ve had girlfriends before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not your girlfriend!”

“We live together, close enough.”

To be fair, you knew that this kind of thing happened all the time, but you were still mortified. You didn’t even pay attention to the rest of the movie you and Joshua had been watching. To this day you didn’t know how the Lego Batman Movie ended.

“You need something to sleep in?” Joshua had asked on your way from the bathroom back to his room, having noted your state of undress.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to make the trips to and from the shower in nothing more than a towel, but he knew you wouldn’t be able to go back into your room tonight, and that most of your clothes were still damp from the ceiling anyway.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

He just nodded from where he was on the couch and gestured past you in the direction of his door. “You know where everything is. Pick out whatever.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You’d chosen an old t-shirt from a gas station souvenir shop, one of many in his collection of road-trip tees and a pair of panties you had managed to snag from your dresser before Joshua had yelled at you to get out of your room earlier.

You hung your towel on a hook attached to the back of his closet door and sprawled out on his bed, pulling the comforter around yourself.

It was late. It had been late for a while, but you and Joshua were night owls. You both kept busy schedules, so at night you liked to take some time for yourselves before bed. Still though, you knew you should sleep. But you couldn’t.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to relax your muscles.

If you were being honest, the idea of getting laid had been exciting and you were a bit disappointed it wasn’t going to happen for you tonight. It had been a while since you’d been with anyone, and you were craving the intimacy, even if it was coming from someone like Dylan.

Your skin was beginning to feel hot and sticky, and you pushed the covers off of you in your frustration. You had just been cold a few moments ago, and all it had taken to make you sweat was the mere thought of sex. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, and you knew it.

Your fingers inched toward the waistband of your panties almost unconsciously before you stopped yourself. You were in Joshua’s bed. You shouldn’t be getting yourself off in his bed. That was wrong. It wasn’t your room, there must be some sort of boundary for this sort of thing. Roommate code. What if Joshua walked in on you- no. You clenched your fists by your sides and sighed. The idea of your roommate walking in on you with your hand down your pants should not be turning you on. It should be having the opposite effect. But you couldn’t help it.

You had managed to suppress your attraction to him for this long, being in his bed shouldn’t be the breaking point. Maybe it was because his sheets smelled like him, or maybe it was because you were wearing his shirt…fuck, you wished you had your vibrator. The little pink toy was sitting in the drawer of your bedside table, likely water damaged beyond repair. God, hadn’t you lost enough?

“Forgive me, Shua,” you whispered hoarsely into the empty room as you resigned yourself to your pleasure.

Your pussy had won over your head and you’d given into your desire. Familiar sparks of arousal flickered faintly in your stomach when you brushed the tips of your fingers over your panties. You weren’t shocked to discover that the material was already damp from where your wetness had seeped through.

You tried to think about Seungcheol, about your celebrity crushes, about anyone other than the person behind the other side of the door, but your mind kept drifting back to your roommate. You thought about what Joshua’s fingers would feel like instead of your own. They were so much longer than yours… you stifled a moan as you curled a finger into yourself and let your thumb begin to circle your clit, imagining Joshua’s head was buried in between your thighs instead.

Getting yourself to the edge was usually difficult for you without the help of toys or a third party, but you surprised yourself when your thighs began to tense in anticipation as you worked your fingers over your g-spot repeatedly, orgasm just out of reach. You were trying to be as quiet as possible, but you kept letting quiet sighs and curses slip from between your lips as your focus began to blur.

You pictured Joshua pushing himself into you, pictured how his face would scrunch up in pleasure as he felt you clench around his cock for the first time, how he’d kiss your neck and praise you for taking him so well- you bit down on your knuckles to stop yourself from screaming.

The invisible string inside of you snapped right as the door to Joshua’s room swung open and you were forced to rip your hand away from yourself as you came and your pussy clenched around nothing.

The light overhead flicked on and you squinted, groaning at the sudden blinding intrusion.

“Sorry,” Joshua apologized sheepishly. “I just forgot a pillow.”

You used your dry hand, the knuckle-bitten one, to throw him one of the pillows from behind you. He caught it with ease and you thought that would be it, but he zeroed in on your hand, narrowing his eyes at it with a confused expression on his face.

You hoped he couldn’t tell that you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your ruined orgasm, hoped he didn’t question why you were so flushed and breathless.

“What happened to your hand?” he asked, tossing the pillow aside and taking your hand into his own to observe. “You’re bleeding.”

Damn, you hadn’t meant to bite your hand that hard.

“It’s nothing,” you said and tried to yank your hand out of his grasp, but he was holding onto you too tightly.

“I have some Band-Aids in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Shua you don’t have to-”

He was gone before you could finish your sentence, and back before you could protest any further. While he was in the bathroom you hurriedly wiped your other hand on your- his- shirt in an attempt to erase any evidence of what you had been doing just moments before he had interrupted.

“Give me your hand,” Joshua instructed, taking a seat on the bed so that he was facing you.

You outstretched your arm so that he could see the damage and watched as he dabbed a tissue at the specks of blood on your skin, applying pressure to stop the flow.

“It’s just a little scrape,” you insisted.

“Still, we don’t want it to get infected.”

“I guess,” you mumbled.

Once he was sure that you had stopped bleeding he dabbed a tiny bit of Neosporin onto your knuckle and wrapped a Spider-Man Band-Aid around your finger.

“Thank you.”

“Wait, I’m not done!”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to kiss it better.”

You rolled your eyes but gave in, lifting your hand to his face princess style. He pressed a gentle kiss to the Spider-Man Band-Aid and took a moment to admire his work. It was only when he was holding your hand closer that he noticed the indents in all of your other knuckles.

“Why were you biting your hand?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

There was no use in lying about it, the marks on your hand were clearly teeth marks. He would know you were bullshitting if you tried to play it off.

“I wasn’t.”

So much for that.

Joshua blinked. “Show me your other hand.”

“What? No.”

“Show me.”

“No!”

You grabbed the comforter and pulled it tighter to you while Joshua tried to wrestle it from your grasp.

“I swear to God, y/n,” he muttered under his breath.

You put up a good fight, but he was stronger than you and tugged it off of you within seconds of struggling. He pushed you back onto the bed and used his body to pin you to the mattress so that you couldn’t wriggle away. Now that you were stuck underneath him he was able to assess the hand that you had been trying to hide. You whimpered in embarrassment and watched in horror as he brought the hand… brought the hand to his…

“Joshua, what are you doing?” you breathed out.

He looked at you brazenly and then put two of your fingers in his mouth. You shivered as he sucked the arousal, the evidence, from your fingers to confirm his suspicion.

“You’re a liar,” he said finally.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stammered.

Joshua chuckled to himself and let your hand fall back to your side. “And a brat too.” You scoffed in offense but Joshua just leaned down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “I already knew that, though.”

“Excuse you, but I am fucking delightful!” you argued.

“I never said you weren’t!”

“You just called me a brat!”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

“I hate you.”

“So you… don’t want me to… give you a hand there?” he asked.

You paused. Was he really offering to-

“We’re friends, Joshua. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.”

You could feel your heart beating in your throat and in your pussy. Joshua was your best friend and your roommate… but was there something more? Right now you wanted him more than you had ever wanted anyone. This couldn’t end well.

“Joshua?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Joshua was back on top of you as soon as the words left your mouth, pressing his lips to yours while one of his hands tangled itself in your hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned softly into his mouth. You found yourself wishing the moment could last forever, but you quickly changed your mind when you felt Joshua pressing his thigh up in between your legs. Lazily making out was nothing compared to what he was doing now. He brought a hand to your hip and urged you to move. He guided you until you were rocking back and forth on his thigh at a steady pace.

“Feel good?” he asked.

You could only nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Your panties were the only layer between your pussy and Joshua’s leg, and although they were certainly ruined by now they still provided the means to create friction that went straight to your clit.

Joshua’s hands fiddled with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing and he tugged at the bottom of it, motioning for it to come off.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Another nod from you and he was whisking the shirt off over your head without a second’s hesitation. He was pulling his own shirt off next, tossing it into a pile on the floor with yours. His fingers found the waistband of your panties soon after, and he played with the elastic impatiently, eager eyes searching yours for approval. You lifted your hips off of the bed so that he could take them off, leaving you completely naked before him.

Joshua let his gaze travel down your body, shamelessly admiring every dimple, curve, and freckle that was now exposed to him. You shifted under him self-consciously, silently wishing you had shaved. If you had known you’d be fucking your best friend, you would have, but it was too late now and you could only hope he wasn’t bothered by a little hair.

“How are you real,” he murmured to himself, earning an eye roll from you. Joshua reached out and dragged a finger through your folds, smiling when you flinched. “So sensitive…” he noted. “Did you cum already?”

“Yes, but it was ruined,” you admitted.

“Poor thing,” he tsked in fake sympathy, bringing his hand back up to his mouth. “Just wanna nother taste. You’re too sweet to resist.”

“Shua,” you whined.

“What is it, baby?”

“I need you.”

He smiled down at you and took you by the chin, tilting your face up towards him. “You already have me.”

“You know what I mean!”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

You groaned stubbornly and twisted your head out of his grip, only to let out a yelp when he closed a hand around your throat.

“Stop being a brat,” Joshua spat as he forced you to look at him again. “I’ll give you one more chance to be a good girl, got it? Good girls use their words to tell me what they want. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out desperately.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

“I’ll be a good girl.”

“So what is it that you need, love?”

You swallowed your pride and opened your mouth to respond. “Your cock, please.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Joshua asked, cupping a hand around his ear as if he couldn’t hear you.

“I want- I need your cock, please.”

“Atta girl,” he praised and eased the grip around your neck. “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head weakly and watched as Joshua pushed his boxers down to his thighs, then onto the floor, letting his cock bounce up against his stomach. He was fully hard already and you wondered how long he’d been like that, wondered how he had so much self-control when you barely had any.

“We can stop whenever you want, okay?” Joshua said, face softening and hand gently cupping your cheek. “Let me know if it’s too much. Just tell me what you need, baby.” You nodded obediently and met him halfway as he leaned down to kiss you. He broke away from the kiss suddenly and held a hand underneath your mouth. “Spit,” he ordered.

You complied and sat up a little to spit into his hand. He worked that same hand over his cock a few times, using your spit to lubricate it before positioning himself over you.

“Is this a good idea?” you blurted right as Joshua was about to push himself into you, suddenly aware that you wouldn’t be able to go back from this as soon as he did.

You had shoved any feelings you’d had for Joshua down for so long and it would be impossible to keep doing after sleeping with him. But you had already come this far.

“Probably not,” Joshua answered with a shrug. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Great.”

A brief moment of silence lapsed while you both stared into each others’ eyes, not quite sure where to go from there.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Joshua said casually after thirty more seconds of silence.

“Yes, please do.”

You braced yourself for the stretch as Joshua pushed into you at an agonizing pace and sank your teeth into his shoulder to relieve some of the pressure. Joshua groaned at the feeling of you pulsing around his cock, a feeling which was only heightened by you nipping at his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“You’re… so big,” you echoed back.

He allowed you a few moments to adjust before he moved. You were already so worked up that he slid in and out of you easily and it wasn’t long before he was pounding into you at a fast tempo. He pressed hurried kisses to your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of hickies to remember him by.

You cried out each time his cock hit your g-spot, overwhelmed and still sensitive. Joshua kissed you to drown out your moans, clamping a hand over your mouth in his stead whenever he came up for air. His other hand was up against the wall for stability, though it wasn’t helping much.

“Joshua,” you gasped.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you choke me again, please?” you all but begged.

Joshua smirked. “Of course.”

He did as you asked and cursed when you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in closer.

“See what happens when you’re a good girl and ask nicely?” he teased, cocking his jaw arrogantly. “You get rewarded.”

You could feel your orgasm building in your abdomen as Joshua continued to thrust into you and wondered if he was close too. You guessed that he was from the way his hips had began to falter.

“Up,” Joshua commanded suddenly.

He slipped out of you and grabbed you by the shoulders, hauling you into a sitting position.

“On your hands and knees,”

“And if I don’t?” you challenged.

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Should I finish myself off, then?” he asked, pumping his cock lazily as if he expected you to call his bluff. “Leave you here needy, not let you cum?”

“No, please!”

You quickly got into position on all fours with your back to Joshua praying that he wouldn’t make good on his threat.

“That’s what I thought,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

You fell forward on your face when he shoved his cock back into you only for him to tug you upright by your hair. He fucked you like that in doggy for a minute or so before he snaked an arm around your upper body and pulled you flush against his chest. Being seated on his lap allowed Joshua the ability to touch practically anywhere on your body. He took advantage of the new position by grabbing your tits.

He was so fucking deep in you like this you couldn’t stand it. Every tiny movement brought you closer to the edge and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

“Shua, I’m close,” you warned through broken gasps.

“Don’t cum yet.”

“Why not,” you whined.

“You’re not allowed to cum until you answer this question for me,” he said breathlessly.

“What is it?”

“When you were touching yourself earlier, who were you thinking about?”

“I-”

“Was it Seungcheol?”

“No.”

Joshua’s fingers found your clit and began rubbing circles around it, making it that much harder not to disobey him.

“Fuck, Joshua…”

“Who was it?”

“It was you! I was thinking about you!”

“Do you always think about me?” he pressed.

“You only said one question,” you accused defensively.

Interrogating you while he had you on the brink of orgasm was not fair.

“Fine, cum.”

You cried his name as you finally came. He held you through it, your orgasm triggering his own as you clenched around him repeatedly. Your name tumbled from his lips too, while he lost himself in the midst of pleasure. You couldn’t see his face as he came, but you could imagine it, like you had hundreds of times before. The way his hair would stick to his forehead, the way he’d bite down on his lip and squeeze his eyes shut as he let go of control…

You couldn’t see him as he came, but you could feel him. You felt his entire body tense behind you, felt the warm spurts of cum fill you up, felt the way he instinctively grabbed at your throat to anchor himself.

Neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity as you both caught your breath. Joshua collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, cock still buried inside of you. He brushed your hair out of your face and turned your head so that he could look into your eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded sleepily and gave him a weak smile. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I wasn’t too rough?”

“No, you were perfect.”

He kissed you again without a second thought and you kissed him back. It felt familiar and warm, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Here let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, pulling out of you.

You winced at the empty feeling, but laid in bed motionlessly and let Joshua dote on you. He used a warm washcloth in between your thighs and wrapped a new Spider-Man Band-Aid around your hurt finger. He slipped back into his boxers and tossed you another pair of his to wear before fetching you a glass of water from the kitchen and making you drink it all.

Joshua returned to bed finally and snuggled up to you instantly. You nestled yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I thought I didn’t have to fuck you to sleep in your bed,” you said quietly once he had gotten comfortable.

“Shut up.” There was still a lot to discuss between the two of you, but nothing that couldn’t wait until morning. For now you were content to fall asleep in his arms and ignore all of the unanswered questions bouncing around in your mind. “For the record, I still expect my fried rice.”

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komfortkiri · 3 years ago

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HELP WANTED (PART 2)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 2,997 TW/CW: ABSENT PARENT MENTION (I know some people get really bothered about absent parents)

NOTES: No banner yet. And yes, I posted two parts in one day BECAUSE I’M LIVING FOR THIS. The next part I’ll include things from Kiri and Sero’s POV. I got tired toward the end of this one and wanted to finish and post it before going to sleep.

Your alarm went off at 6:45 AM, allowing you more time to actually get ready and look like a decent human being.. well, sort of. You laid there for a moment, though, thinking that if this really went well, you could be leaving within the next week. You’d have to tell your father and though he’d be hurt, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t come back to visit. With a deep breath, you threw your legs off the side of the bed, holding your arms over your head to stretch. The stretch was so good that you almost fell back into your mattress and went back to sleep but you shook your head and rose to your feet, proceeding to your bathroom to shower.

After you took your shower from Hell, you walked out of your bathroom and back into your room, making your way to your closet to browse over the clothes you had. You realized quickly that you should probably do some upgrading to your wardrobe but you’ll worry about that another day. Your eyes scanned over everything and nothing really stood out to you so you pulled out your phone to check the weather, seeing that it was pretty cold out— roughly 23 degrees. Coffee definitely sounded luxurious right now and that thought alone made you check the time to see that it was now 7:15 AM. You took a little longer in the shower but the scorching water felt like Heaven to you.

You sighed, taking a long-sleeved, burgundy turtleneck half-shirt off of a hanger along with a pair of black high-waisted jeans. You tossed both articles of clothing onto the bed then went to your small dresser in the corner of your room to open the top drawer, pulling out a white colored bra and a matching pair of panties to go with it. You closed that drawer then opened the second drawer, getting some black socks that rose to just under your knee. Once you had everything, you dropped your towel then threw your undergarments on, along with your socks.

During your dressing, you received a text message from the Kiri person so you rushed over to it, hoping they weren’t cancelling the get together. Relief washed over you whenever you read the message.

FROM KIRI: Morning! Wanted to send you a text to tell you that me and my roommate are getting ready and should be at the coffee shop closer to 8:30 AM. We still on?

You replied rather quickly, it was almost creepy.. like you were waiting for a text.

TO KIRI: Good morning! Yes, of course! I’m getting ready right now as well.. I may be there earlier than you both since it’s right around the corner from me!

Once the message delivered, you threw your phone back onto your bed then put on your shirt and pants, which had a special made hole just for your tail, then walked over to your full body mirror hanging on the wall. “Not bad.. Not bad at all.” It was almost like you were hoping these were men that you were meeting. You scoffed at your thought, nah. You walked back to the bathroom to grab your hair brush, one for the hair on your head and another for the fur on your tail. It was weird in a way.. you had to color coordinate what you used for your tail because the fur wasn’t as soft as your actual hair was. Once you finished grooming yourself, you put on a pair of flat-bottom, over-the-knee, black boots.

Time, what was the— shit! Your damned tail, taking so much time to brush through. It was now 8:05 so you had to rush a little bit if you wanted to be extra early and order what you needed so you grabbed your black trench coat off your coat rack, grabbed your phone then your backpack that held your wallet and other necessities that you may need throughout the day and booked it out of your room and out of your front door. Your dad must have had to work this morning, considering his car wasn’t out front but nonetheless, you expected as much from a police officer.

NO TIME TO THINK, you thought so you turned in the direction of the coffee shop and started walking. Your walking turned into walking fast then into.. running, which doesn’t affect you much considering it’s part of who you are. You thankfully had a bottle of perfume with you, just in case you smelt like a wet dog and you sprayed a few pumps amongst your coat and a few on your neck. You took a minute to catch your breath right outside Camille’s front door then walked in.

“My, my.. Look who it is! If it isn’t my dear Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, must be pulling extra shifts at the animal shelter, huh?” Camille practically rushed to you, bringing you into a hug. All you could do was smile and accept her embrace then return it. If you were being honest, you really needed the hug. “Hi, Camille! I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting like I normally do. I have picked up a few more shifts so I can save up for a place of my own.” You took a seat at your usual spot, right up close to where she made most things. There was a small little bar, in which, Camille practically saved your seat every morning when you started coming in. She was like a mom to you, which was nice in its own way considering yours wasn’t worth a shit.

Camille knew just about everything about your life so you felt awful knowing that you hadn’t been around in a few weeks but you had to do what you need to first. “You know, darling, whenever you stopped coming in, these two very handsome boys started coming in every morning. It was almost fate in a way. They kept me company while you were gone, but don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my favorite girl is back.” Boys? Was this elderly woman really trying to hint at hooking you up right now? All you could do was shake your head and laugh as she set your usual in front of you— hot hazelnut coffee, extra sweet. You lifted the glass mug to your lips, speaking from behind it, “Boys, huh? Camille, are you trying to set me up?” A smirk formed along your face as you took a sip of the coffee, humming softly in satisfaction, your ears falling back some. She always did make the best coffee, it never failed.

The older woman laughed then leaned back onto the counter opposite from the one you were at, “Now, you know I wouldn’t meddle into your love life, dear. All I’m saying is, they are complete gentleman.” She leaned forward on her elbow, whispering her next statement. “If I was year and years younger, I’d probably take both of them.” This made you snort then double over in laughter, “Camille! Shame on you!” All she did was shrug then before she could respond, her eyes lit up when she realized who was entering her shop. You noticed this look and raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee. Camille realized your eyes were on her and she nodded toward the door, mouthing that’s them. You tried your best not to make it obvious but you turned your head just enough to the side to peer over your shoulder and boy, she was not kidding. However, these were definitely not boys.. they were pure men.

You quickly turned your head before they realized you were ogling them, your insides heating up. All you could think of was how the good Lord above took his sweet time crafting both of them. Your heightened sense of hearing allowed you to listen in on what was being said between both of the guys and Camille so you just barely turned your left ear to the side, lifting your coffee again to take another sip.

“My boys! Where have you been? Fighting crime as usual?” Camille greeted both with a big hug each before one of them answered her. “Yes ma’am, you know us. We have to make sure nothing happens to your wonderful coffee shop.” Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Smooth. “Always such sweethearts, come. I want you to meet another regular of mine.” Please don’t, please don’t, plea— “Y/N?” Your face was probably as red as a beet at this point but you turn anyway with a smile that was semi-forced. You hadn’t much prepared well on talking to… very, very attractive men. “Boys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Eijiro and Hanta.” You shook each of their hands, your insides felt like they were being lit on fire at this point.

The man known as Kirishima smiled, “You can call me either Ei, Eiji or Kiri, though.” The fire was immediately put out by his statement. You were thanking all the Gods that you didn’t have your coffee in your hand because you would have dropped it. “D-Did you say Kiri?” You cleared your throat, scratching the back of your head nervously.

“Yeah, do you know me? I mean, I’m a pro-hero but do you know someone I know or—“ You cut him off, not meaning to, but you had to get it out. “No, I.. I inquired about the roommate ad you had put up. We texted this morning and last night?” Kirishima and Sero’s eyes widened and they looked at each other. Something tells you they really weren’t expecting the person they were meeting to be a woman, but you were in the same boat because you didn’t expect for the two people you were meeting to be two gorgeous piece of asses either.

Sero spoke this time as he looked back at you, “So you are looking to be our roommate?” You blushed a soft shade of pink, not really knowing how to properly answer that but you did anyway. “Well, I-I didn’t really plan on you guys being, well… guys.” Both men laughed then Kirishima sat next to you, Sero sitting next to him on the other side. Camille put their coffees in front of him, Sero’s was partnered with a bagel. She gave you a wink then rushed back to the kitchen, peering out the little window in the door. All you could do was shake your head with a grin. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you definitely don’t have to move in with us but we’d like to be your friend.”

You smiled at that but thought of the trouble you’d get yourself in just by being their friend. It was almost impossible not to yank both by their collars to the bathroom and— “Wolf quirk, eh?” Sero’s voice shook you out of your inappropriate thoughts. It’s almost like he knew where your head was spiraling to. “Y-Yeah. My dad is also part wolf as well.” You nodded, clearing your throat even though you really didn’t need to as there was nothing to clear.

“What about your mom?” Sero pressed, not knowing that talking about your mother was something you hated doing. You sighed quietly, eyes darting in front of you to a blank space on the white wall in front of you. Your ear fell back, tone filled with… hatred when you spoke, which you didn’t intend for, but your burning rage for her was not controllable. “Don’t know her. She left not too long after I was a baby. Just up and left in the middle of the night and nobody has seen her since.”

Kirishima looked at Sero, eyes saying way to go, idiot. He wanted to lighten the mood so he changed the subject quickly, “So, uh.. about your quirk..” You three sat there for what felt like hours just talking, having casual conversation. They asked about your quirk, showing high interest in every aspect of it. You reassured them that you didn’t shed hair so they didn’t need to worry about any of that. You didn’t realize that they were pro-heroes until they told you their hero names and you almost choked on your semi-hot coffee. You had heard of both but you never really are around the action to put a face to the name. They both do a lot of good work around your city, in which, you are thankful for with your father being on the police force. Without them, your dad would probably have been hurt or worse.

Your anger about your mother had withered away and you were really enjoying yourself with the two men next to you. Your tail was moving to-and-fro the entire time, meaning you were happy. It got silent at one point and that prompted to Sero clear his throat then bump his elbow into Kirishima’s own, basically trying to push on this conversation. Kirishima turned his body a little toward you, his tone was soft, “Um.. This roommate thing.. It’s obvious you aren’t a serial killer, unless you’re a really good actor. You don’t have to give us an answ—“ You held your finger up with a smile because it was clear he was about to start rambling on due to nerves and not wanting to overstep. “You don’t have to say anymore. I’m super down for being your roommate.” It seemed like relief washed over the both of them because they smiled at you. “Hell yeah, you can move your stuff in at any time. Just let us know when so we can help you.” Sero nodded in your direction and you nodded back with a smile.

Moving in.. with two insanely attractive men.. What could go wrong, right?

#Hanta Sero x Reader #Sero x Reader #Eijiro Kirishima x Reader #Kirishima x Reader #Hanta Sero #eijiro kirishima #mha x reader

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thedeliverygod · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Valentines Day! I’m posting this a day early out of both eagerness and the fact that there’s a big ice storm floating overtop of me right now that is threatening to knock my power out.

CULTURAL NOTES FOR THIS FANFIC: Valentines Day in Japan is a day when girls give chocolates to their romantic interests/significant others but also to friends. Obligation chocolate is what you would give to friends—affordable, non-pricey chocolate. Honmei chocolate is either homemade or expensive chocolate and is given with romantic intention.

On White Day (March 14th) the boys get to return the favor. And yes, I plan on writing a white day fic as well.

AO3

FF.net

Just as Sweet

Hiyori was nodding along and smiling as Yama excitedly discussed her plans for Valentine’s Day with her boyfriend as they walked home. Still, as happy as she was for her friend, her thoughts drifted to whether or not she should do anything other than obligation chocolate for Yato as she did for the rest of her friends.

“And you, Hiyori?” Ami’s voice knocked her out of her internal debate.

Blinking in confusion, she questioned back, “What about me?”

“What about that guy on your phone sensei caught you staring at? Are you doing anything for him?” She wiggled her eyebrows, intrigued.

Hiyori felt like her face had caught fire, unable to form words.

“That’s right! Who is that guy, anyway?” Yama immediately jumped in, moving closer as they slowed to a stop.

“H-he’s just a friend!” She managed to finally spit out, though she quickly felt herself growing light headed with embarrassment.

The two other girls looked at each other, clearly not buying it.

“Right.” Yama dragged out, “But! You do have a picture, right? Show us, just for the fun of it.”

“If he’s just a friend, it’s no big deal, right?” Ami echoed her sentiments mischievously.

“You two are…” Hiyori grumbled to herself, reaching into her pocket with a shaking head as she huffed, “Fine.” As they shared their squeals of success, she sighed to herself as she unlocked her phone and moved to photos. ‘Most of the pictures I have are selfies from him stealing my phone when I’m tutoring Yukine-kun…’

Finding one she deemed as relatively acceptable, she held out her phone and turned her head away, “Here.” Her ears were instantly filled with more high-pitched squeals and she flinched.

“Hiyori!”

“He’s gorgeous! Again, who exactly who is this guy!? How did you meet him?”

She took a breath and shoved her phone back into her pocket, not sure how to respond. “I, um. You know the younger boy I mentioned before that I tutor? They live together.”

Ami squinted, “So you mean he’s his older brother?”

Hiyori shook her head, “No, he’s more like, um… his guardian?”

“So older guys are your thing, huh?” Yama snapped her fingers as she came to her realization. She winked and elbowed Hiyori, “Wow, and I thought being a closet wrestling fan was your only rebellious trait.”

She covered her face with both of her hands, pleading, “Stop.”

Yama and Ami shared a laugh before Ami repeated, “So… are you going to make chocolate or anything?”

“I don’t know yet.” Hiyori only slightly moved her hand to answer her friends.

“Why not?” Yama tilted her head, frowning.

Hiyori lowered her hands but turned her head away, her voice soft, “I don’t think he would return my feelings.” Before she knew it, she felt both of her friend’s hands on her shoulders.

“You never know until you try!” Ami gave her a gentle pat, “I think you should go for it.”

“And I think the same!” Yama let go of her to give her a thumbs up with a wide grin, “Besides, wouldn’t it be so fun to go on double dates?”

Hiyori laughed nervously, answering, “Yeah, sure…” Taking another breath, she commented, “Thanks, both of you.”

“Of course.” They both flashed more smiles and continued forward.

She returned as much of a smile as she could muster, but her feelings were bittersweet. ‘It’s so much more complicated than I can tell you. I wish I could. And I wish you could meet everyone, but… even I’m not supposed to be as involved as I am.’

Now that dinner was finished, the time had come to go through with her plan. The only problem was she hadn’t quite figured out how to ask Yato how to come by himself and not bring Yukine. As much as she loved the younger boy, she very much did not want him to be present for what was essentially going to be spilling her heart out to his god.

After going through various scenarios in her head, she decided to keep it plain and simple. Her heartbeat so loud that it was ringing in her ears, she typed out her text on her phone.

Can you come over soon? And by yourself if possible.

She hesitantly hit send and held her breath as she waited. Finally, her phone beeped to signify Yato’s response.

Uhhh sure. Is everything okay?

She took a breath before answering.

Yes everything’s fine

After another brief moment of silence, her phone beeped again.

Just give me a few minutes

Her heart continued to beat erratically within her chest, making the time pass both impossibly slow and fast at the same time. So, when her phone eventually rang, she wasn’t sure if she felt ready or not. In her hesitation, the phone rang several times before she finally hit the answer button.

“I had to sneak away from Yukine.” He announced as he appeared in a flash of bright light, “And it wasn’t easy, so you’d better make it worth it, Hiyori.” He finished with a wide grin.

Her mouth already dry at the sight of his smile, she swallowed and apologized, “S-sorry.”

“You getting sick? Your voice sounds kinda off.” He tilted his head and took a step closer.

Hiyori quickly shook her head, “No, no. I just could probably use some water…”

“On it!” Yato volunteered excitedly, dashing out her bedroom door before she could even get a word in.

Exasperated, she collapsed backward onto her bed and took the opportunity to at least try and calm herself down. Of course, all progress she made vanished as soon as he popped back in the door.

“Here you go,” He kneeled down and held it out.

Sitting back up, she nodded gratefully as she took it into her hands and took a sip. Sitting the glass down carefully on her desk, she looked back up to Yato, “You can’t just wander freely around the house like that, Yato. What if my big brother had been home?”

“I would just say I’m getting a glass of water?” He shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Hiyori. He’s kind of a weirdo himself.”

‘You’re completely missing the point.’ She held her palm up to her forehead, “If you say so.”

“So, really,” Yato sat down on the bed, across from her, “What’d you call me over for?”

She met his eyes and let out slowly, “I wanted to… give you something.”

His eyes widened curiously as he repeated, “Give me something?”

Hiyori nodded before looking down to her lap sheepishly.

“Oh—that’s right. It’s Valentine’s Day. I appreciate the thought, but I don’t really need obligation chocolate or anything.” He gave a small, forced laugh, “Of course I’ll take anything to Yukine, Kofuku and Daikoku, though—”

“I-it is chocolate, but it’s not out of obligation…” She still didn’t meet his gaze, reaching to the drawer in her desk to pull out a white box with a red bow, “…I-I made it myself, so it may not be the best, but I think it’s okay.”

There was a brief pause but Yato started to call out her name, “Hiyori—”

“Just let me get this out, okay?” She forced a smile as she looked up and he nodded, clearly looking concerned. “I’m sort of just using Valentine’s Day as an excuse to say all of this because I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to.”

She slid the chocolate box towards him, while getting up from the bed and beginning to pace around her room as she explained, “I realized I was in love with you back when you were gone. Kazuma-san sort of helped me come to that conclusion even if… it wasn’t exactly in the nicest way, to put it lightly.”

“What? What did he do?” Yato asked, his voice sharp and dark.

Hiyori glanced back at him briefly, “Don’t—don’t worry about it right now. He’s apologized since then. Anyway, we’ve obviously had a lot of important things going on that needed your full focus. Especially helping Yukine-kun get settled again. So, I didn’t want to say anything about my feelings, because I don’t really know how you feel. I know you really care about me and sometimes go over the top with that… but I don’t know how you really feel.”

She turned back to him but kept her eyes low, her hands clasped together, “So I held it in, at least until now. I know there’s never really going to be a perfect time, but I also don’t think I can keep lying to myself. Or to you, either. I just hope… no matter what, we can still be friends. Because I can’t imagine my life without you. That’s why I’ve told you over and over that I don’t want to cut our ties and that I don’t want to lose you.”

Yato wordlessly slipped off the bed and stood up.

Just as Hiyori felt the tears start to drip down her face, all of the built-up emotions finally pouring out, she felt him wrap his arms around her in a tight embrace. His face buried against her neck, she soon felt his own tears wetting her skin.

She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or feel worse, “I’ve got you crying now, too?” She reached up over his shoulders to wipe at her own eyes.

“Well, yeah.” He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, adding a sniffle as he finished. He pulled back from her slightly, his hands lingering at her shoulders, “Hiyori, you… how do I even put this.” He let out a breath, “For so long I’ve been a minor god, no name, no shrine, nothing to hold on to. And then I met you and… you helped me with Yukine. You helped me understand him and become a better god so that I could take care of him like he deserved. You built me my first shrine. You’ve showed me time and time again that all my efforts to change aren’t useless. How could I not love you?”

Hiyori paused and swallowed, “I appreciate you saying that—but I’m not sure if you mean it in quite the same way.”

“Not the same way…?” Yato repeated, looking her over with a confused look.

“When I say I love you, I mean as so much more than just a friend. Kazuma-san and Tenjin-sama told me that gods—” She didn’t get to finish before he reached up to cup her face, leaning forward to press his lips against hers.

He only lingered for a moment before he pulled away, a small smile spreading across his features, “I have no idea what those two said, but I’m pretty sure I know what I mean.” He moved the hand that wasn’t resting against her face to her waist, pulling her ever so slightly closer to him, “But I can prove it to you if you need me to.”

Hiyori’s lips parted in shock and her voice caught in her throat before she managed to answer, “N-no, I believe you.” Her face was so hot she felt like her head was going to explode.

Yato pressed his forehead against hers, letting out, “That’s a relief. Although, I’ll admit I did sort of want to.”

“Of course you did.” She sighed in response before they both let out a round of laughter. “But in all seriousness,” She pressed her lips to his, “I love you.”

He answered her kiss eagerly when given the chance before giving his answer, “I love you too.” With that, he moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled her into a tight embrace again.

#noragami #yatori #noragami fanfiction #my writing

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obae-me · 4 years ago

Note

Hiii! May I please request headcanons of the brothers with a MC who has hydrophobia? Thanks sweetie 💖

I wanted to do a little bit of research into it before I even posted it, and I really hope I’m not getting Aquaphobia and Hydrophobia confused. This was something new for me so I’m sorry if it’s not the best. I hope this has enough of what you want, thank you so so much for submitting! 💜

Lucifer

He already knew this about MC, so he’d try to keep them away from large bodies of water as much as he could. Luckily in the Devildom there weren’t many. Not around RAD anyway. He knows about the large lake beside Diavolo’s castle, but there’s not too many times MC would be there.

The time did come eventually. Lucifer and MC had been invited to his castle to talk more about the program. Diavolo had taken them both outside since it seemed much more pleasant than his ‘stuffy castle’. Of course he had taken them both right near that open body of water.

This would be the first time Lucifer got to see how serious this was. It was one thing to know about and another to see it in action. He was aware of MC right beside him, starting to tremble, their hands fidgeting. Their skin has lost some of its color.

MC had never looked like this in front of him before, not even when any of him or his brothers were in demon form. They had always been too brave for their own good, a trait he had both found annoying yet endearing. He put a supportive hand on their shoulder, and as soon as the conversation was over, he led them away from the lake.

“MC, MC, breathe. You’re right here with me.”

He covered their shoulders with his coat and stayed with them until MC caught their breath. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. He’d have to take extra precautions to make sure they never looked like that again.

He’d ask MC to join him in his study when they got home so they could talk about it. He couldn’t make another careless mistake like this again, for their sake.

Mammon

He is as clueless as always, but he never ever means to hurt MC intentionally. He just thought it would be fun to take them to the RAD swimming pool after hours. After all he had taken a dare earlier that day, and if he got away with it, he’d earn some serious cash.

He read their body language as “I’m nervous to be here after hours, what if Lucifer find out” instead of “I’m terrified to be by this huge demon-sized pool” so he tries shoving them in for fun.

MC absolutely shrieked. They grabbed onto him with a death grip, shaking like a leaf about to be blown off a tree due to violent winds. So, in shorter words, intensely.

Mammon was stunned for the longest time, trying to come up with all sorts of answers in his head to why they screamed like that? Was it something he did? Did MC see something? Did they not know how to swim or something?

“Hey, hey, human it was just a joke, huh, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

He held them close and led them outside, leaving his fun plans and money behind to take them home. He won’t soon be forgetting the piercing sound of the scream they made.

Once MC calmed down back in the House of Lamentation, they explained the ins and outs of their phobia to Mammon. Of all the things...he didn’t really think of the possibility that humans could be afraid of water.

“Dummy, why didn't you say that before?! Man now I do feel kinda like a scumbag.”

Will become very protective now anytime too much water is involved, sticking by MC’s side constantly. Not like he doesn’t already do this already.

Levi

He first noticed MC acting strange the first time they were in his room, and took strange steps to be as far away from his gigantic fish tank at all times. If they stayed in his room, they would make fervent glances over at it, looking more timid than usual.

He didn’t think much of it, since MC was new and he knew nothing about normal demons much less normal humans. He noted it as quirky and forgot about it...till he tried taking MC to the beach. Their reaction was much more severe, not even getting anywhere near close to the water’s edge, almost being even to afraid to look at the vastness of it.

When MC finally confided in him, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was somehow part of his fault.

“Was it the gigantic sea monster I released?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Levi, I’ve had this fear for a long time.”

Levi loves water, he feels most home at it, he even sleeps in a bathtub for Diavolo’s sake. He’s always secretly waited to share that love with MC. If they’re scared though...he won’t force them.

He’ll compare this to a scenario in a video game, just like MC has not been coded to swim. There will be some sort of barrier for them around water. This helps him understand this a bit easier.

If MC is too uncomfortable to be around his fish tank, whenever he feels like it, he’ll bring his whole setup into their room.

Satan

He made an educated guess that MC had this fear. He may or may not have been able to see some information about them by breaking into Lucifer’s study. Since it wasn’t often that MC came across too much water in the Devildom, he didn’t chalk it up to too big of an issue.

He did however, reread one of his books containing all sorts of different phobias and fears, so he could at least try to be knowledgeable about it.

One particular day, MC came home much too late. Apparently, they had made a point to take a much longer route home, just so they wouldn’t have to come across the dark and deep foreboding pond that was settled on one of the paths home.

He admitted he may have underestimated how much of a problem this actually was.

He’ll give MC all sorts of different routes to take, ones that would do well to avoid any ponds or rivers. It was probably for the best anyway, this was the Devildom after all, and rarely were the waters free of anything that could potentially harm MC.

He doesn’t really like water either, he’s not afraid of it like MC is, but he’ll stay away when he can. He feels more of a connection to MC because of this and will make sure he has a list of activities they both can enjoy together away on dry land.

If he feels like it’s impeding their life, he’ll try to help them overcome it.

Asmo

He was completely unaware until he got invited to a special After-RAD beach party. With MC as his plus-one, he dragged them out to mingle.

MC doesn’t bother wearing a swimsuit, for obvious reasons, but he takes that clue in an entirely different direction. “Oh are you going to swim au-natural? So bold~”

He’s very in tune the body so he knows how it looks when it’s pleased, and how it looks when it’s distressed.

So at the party he notices that MC’s chest is rising and falling much more than normal. Social jitters? He keeps a careful eye on them while he goes to town on the flirting. When he comes back around to MC, he sees more symptoms, the sweaty palms, the fluttering eyes, and their breathing is much more shallow now.

Once he finds out he doesn’t stop smothering MC with attention. “Why didn’t you tell me dear? It’s okay, we don’t need the beach to have fun, we’ll leave right away, there will plenty of other parties. All the people here are lame anyway.”

He’ll take MC back home to treat them to a spa night, something much more relaxing than that awful party. He’ll massage their shoulders, telling MC how tense they were after being there. “Poor sweet darling.”

MC can have a spa day with Asmo whenever they want, it’s so much more fun than parties, if they were the one he was working on at least.

Don’t worry because MC can be afraid of water all they want, but there are still plenty of ways to get wet~

Beel

He was told much later than he would’ve preferred. Having a phobia like this seemed like something MC would’ve shared with him almost immediately. He only figured it out after they shared it with him after he asked MC to watch him work out.

He wanted to change up his routine a bit, and decided to swim that day in the gym swimming pool. With MC there, he would be able to push himself further under their support.

However, because he was so immersed in his workout, he didn’t realize MC was in the middle of a panic attack. He looked up from the water just in time to watch MC sprint out of the pool area obviously flustered. He followed them immediately, worried it was something he did.

When he found them, they were gasping for air, tears streaking down their face. Beel wasted no time embracing them in a hug, petting their head and telling them to breathe in and out, to focus on his voice.

Once MC could speak, they apologized, briefly explaining their fear to him. Had he known, Beel wouldn’t have even gotten them anywhere near the pool.

He’ll fully support them, whether anyone says that their phobia is rational or not, it’s still something that terrifies them, and he doesn’t want them to feel like that ever, if he can help it.

Belphie

He still doesn’t know a lot about MC, since...you know. He doesn’t expect MC to tell him anything either because...well...

Found it out firsthand when he invited MC out to one of his favorite napping spots. A nice little place apart from the Devildom danger. Under a lovely weeping tree right near a wide river. This spot was perfect since the rapids rushing by canceled out the normal sounds of everyday demon life. Except it didn’t drown out MC’s fear.

He had fallen asleep as soon as they got to their destination, meaning that he left MC alone to their panic. They felt alone, ridiculous, and by the time Belphie opened his eyes to check on them, they were already in a ball, shivering.

The Demon of Sloth had hardly moved so fast to get to their side, giving them his special pillow to squeeze. When MC told him about it in choppy words, he let out a long sigh. He felt dumb.

“Let’s get you home then, you look exhausted.” Those were the only words he said, but he made up for it in his actions. He never once let go of them on their walk back to the House of Lamentation. He let them sleep in his bed since it was state of the art, he claimed.

MC never did discover that after they fell asleep, Belphie headed straight to Lucifer to chew him out for not telling him. Lucifer knew practically everything about MC, save for what Diavolo wouldn’t share. After he had said his piece, he went back to his shared bedroom to cuddle with them, making sure they were okay before he fell asleep this time.

Gee, he hates how MC keeps him restless.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie

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willadisastercry · 4 years ago

Text

Appendicitis in space...

tw: emetophobia, appendicitis symptoms described, surgery, anesthesia, anxiety.

Coran is secretly shitting himself when the scanner lets him know that this particular human condition requires actual surgery. Most serious injuries they sustained did, but most also could be mended in a pod. This one was an exception, though. Because nothing needed to be fixed, something needed to be removed.

Lance tumbled forward awkwardly as the simulator sputtered and powered down.

“What gives, Shiro? I had that round!”

“Oh yeah? Then that wasn’t me just watching you getting your ass handed to you? Right,” Shiro laughed and he began packing up the equipment that had been pulled out.

“That’s enough for today anyway. Good work, everyone.”

Lance couldn’t even find it in him to continue his protests as he leaned over on his knees to catch his breath while he waited for the cramping in his side to dissolve.

Training that morning had been rough for everyone. Shiro wanted to ensure that the lull in active missions did not leave his team thinking they could kick back. So they worked on hand to hand combat and trained on as hard of a level they could tolerate until they became proficient in whichever skill they were focusing on.

Everyone did pretty well. They all made varying degrees of progress, but progress nonetheless.

Well, everyone except for Lance.

And he was pissed.

So he determined not to quit until he improved from his navice standing with a short sword, running the simulation countless times but barely making a dent.

He fought sloppily, all desperation and no strategy. Actually he did have sort of a strategy if you counted fighting simply to survive and that was not how you were supposed to train, but Shiro gave up on driving that point home early on.

Because Lance was visibly off.

Shiro had chided him earlier for picking at his breakfast, that he would regret it once they began training, but he just shrugged.

Lance barely spoke the entire morning of which Shiro was very wary of given that he was usually the most energetic of the bunch in the mornings.

But he assured the older boy he was fine.

Shiro knew that he had been feeling crappy the last few days so at first he attributed the weird behavior to him probably still feeling gross.

So when he fought sloppily he knew it was because he was fatiguing much quicker than his teammates. That when he got hit by an obvious blow it was because his brain quite literally couldn’t keep up with the battle.

He’d start off okay only to spend the rest of the simulation narrowly feigning off every strike after the first few parries and getting properly clobbered by way too many.

Shiro was glad he was able to recognize his shoddy performance for what it was before he exacerbated the issue, making a mental note to check in on him later that day as he finished cleaning up.

The paladins stalked off to the showers, Hunk and Pidge engaging in a riveting conversation explaining to Keith how the castle’s ‘waste’ was plumbed and disposed of.

He was horrified to say the least.

Lance lagged behind, the exhaustion from the session making his limbs feel so very heavy. Not to mention the knot in his side had never gone away and the trek was only increasing his discomfort as the adrenaline high wore off.

But he resigned that he was just overly tired and that a hot shower would likely help.

And it did, for his aching muscles. But his abdomen was still taut, the steady pulse of discomfort making him a little queasy.

He detached the removeable shower head and held it on his side for a moment. The water was boiling and so the heat seemed to numb the spot, but the pain was still there.

He gingerly began probing the area as he tried to work out what exactly was hurting, thinking maybe he’d pulled a muscle.

His stomach had been feeling weird for the last couple of days, but it had never been a concentrated pain like this.

And as he pressed around he was able to pinpoint the exact spot that was smarting the most so he could rub out whatever the issue was.

But as soon as he put pressure on it he knew he’d messed up.

It wasn’t even the pressure so much as the lack of it because when he removed his fingers to work out the soreness he grunted loudly as pain erupted at the site.

He was so caught off guard by the sudden sharpness that took over the dull ache that he dropped the shower head and it clanged on the tile, just narrowly missing his foot when he hadn’t even made an effort to avoid it.

His vision went white for a second and he stumbled into the wall, mostly due to the intense fear that was now upon him, and it took a second for the blood rush to settle before he could hear his friends knocking on the door of the shower stall.

“—ance? Lance!”

“The fuck is going on in there...”

He took a shuddering breath and called out that he was fine, he was just tired.

“Are you like weak in the knees tired or what? Because if you pass out in there and we have to help you while you’re butt ass naked, I swear—“

“I’m not going to pass out,” he groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall with a hand hovering carefully on his side.

“Okay, you’ve just been in there forever.”

“And Shiro said to keep an eye on you for suspicious behavior.”

“He’s not a suspect, Pidge, he’s just stubborn.”

“Well I am very much okay, so you can tell Shiro that and leave me alone.”

“Jeez—“

“Damn, well if you take a header you’ve gotten your wish, you’re on your own.”

Hunk and Pidge started off and Lance sighed, about to apologize when his side twinged, stealing a more pained sound from his throat.

He leaned his head back and tried to breathe through it, the worst muscle cramp of his life, once again not really being able to pay attention to what else was happening.

The pain wasn’t spreading, it was intensifying. Twisting and burning under each harsh pant, like someone was holding a fire poker to him and moving it around.

It was making his head swim and his stomach churn. He had been nauseous all morning and hadn’t eaten, so he was very confused as to how he could possibly need to throw up now, but there was no questioning it when he almost choked on the saliva rushing to fill his mouth.

He didn’t know when he’d grabbed the towel thrown over the door and tied it around his waist or when he’d made a break for the toilets across the room, he just knew he was moving and that he wouldn’t make it there.

And then he was hunching over one of the many sinks heaving, his side in a fiery protest with each contraction in his stomach.

The blood rush was back in his ears, so he didn’t know that Keith was talking to him or that he was even there until he was hitting his back when he couldn’t breathe in between gags and almost choked on his own sick. The shock of the hit allowed his stomach to break its cycle of relentless clenching.

He spit up the last of the bile that made its way up his throat and ducked his head further between his shoulders as he leaned on the sink while he caught his breath.

His lungs ached and he was dizzy. Everything seemed to hurt from that, all temporarily dulling the bite of the worsening throb in his side.

“Ok, what the fuck was that?” he could hear Keith asking after a minute.

He started to speak, to give an explanation, but he didn’t even know what to say, he wasn’t sure what was wrong. But when he went to talk his side pulsed rather aggressively and he was instantly gagging again.

Not much came up this time though as his stomach had already divulged itself of all its contents.

After he calmed back down, he looked up at himself through the mirror.

He was really pale except for a splash of red across his cheeks, his muscles tight and straining as he suffered through his discomfort and the pain, skin glistening in a mix of sweat and water.

And then he found Keith’s pointed gaze in it.

“Should I get Coran? You look like shit.”

“Ah—uhyh huh...” he struggled to formulate his words through his ragged breaths but got there eventually.

“Ye-yeah, please...”

“Okay, you good here or do you need to sit?”

“I-I’m gonna put... something on,” he stated before pushing himself up from the sink uneasily. Once he was up straight he wobbled a little and Keith grabbed his arm, but he shook him off saying he just needed a second and waited for the swirling black dotting his vision to disappear before heading for his pile of clothes on the bench.

Keith stayed next to him the entire way, making sure he got there without splitting his head open, more worried now then he was when Lance was choking on his own puke.

But he hid it well for the most part, except when he was actually being really nice. That was his tell.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t try and get to the toilet if you need to yak again, wouldn’t want anything to happen to that amazing brain of yours—“

“Hey...”

“Kidding, i’ll be really quick though. And seriously just stay there.”

“Yup, not going anywhere...” he assured, returning his hand to hover over the fire that felt like it was burning a hole in his side, the other waving Keith off.

Lance pulled his hoodie from the pile first. His skin was covered in goose bumps from how cold he was and he didn’t have the energy to put his entire post workout sweat suit on so it would have to do for now.

He shrugged it on carefully, it took a while because lifting his right arm up aggravated his side, but once it was on he felt better. He was still really cold and his hair was still wet so that wasn’t helping.

Pants next. Well underwear first. He found his boxer briefs in the pile and got to his feet wearily. He was still really dizzy and so he decided to proceed with caution and moved over to lean against the wall for this.

He took a deep breath and leaned over to put his feet through. It hurt. The orientation made his head pound dangerously and he straightened up only to feel a twinge from his side.

Fuck, he remembered thinking as he leaned heavily on the wall. But he very much needed to have underwear on when Coran came back, so he tried again.

This time he just dropped his arms down in front of him, keeping his torso straight as he raised one leg at a time through each leg hole.

Success. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his towel then started for the sweat shorts but his body did not like that.

He was none too kindly reminded of how lightheaded and dizzy he still was in that moment and he staggered forward, his foot catching a wet spot on the floor and the momentum of the error took him to the ground hard.

He landed very much on his ass but the fall jolted through his side like he’d gotten shot. If he thought it was on fire before, he was very wrong. This heat was excruciating and nauseating and blinding and gosh it was hard to breathe.

He hadn’t known when he’d laid down but he was suddenly very aware he was writhing on his side, feet kicking and searching for purchase on the tile as he arched through the pain piercing his abdomen.

And then there was a shadow over him. It sounded like robots were talking over him, their cold hands gripping his shoulders and face and turning him to lie on his back.

He had just been so cold but their hands felt so much colder because he was not aware he had started sweating. That wasn’t the only thing coming back to him, so was the nausea rippling through his stomach just as intensely as the fire raged.

He tried to focus his eyes, tried to see the faces over him. It was hard with how everything seemed to be spinning but eventually he could make them out.

“C-Coran, please... p-please”

“I will my boy, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. What’s hurting?”

His hand moved from scratching at the tile to tug on his sweatshirt pocket.

“Where on your stomach? Show me,” Coran ordered as he lifted Lance’s sweatshirt up to his chest.

From the outside everything looked perfectly fine, aside from his abnormal parlor.

So Coran was dubious when he watched the sick boy move his hand cautiously over his side right beside and a little lower down than his belly button, his fingertips barely brushing the warm skin but producing a stiff breath anyway.

“Hm,” Coran mused, muttering a quick ‘forgive me boy’ before he pressed down on and around the spot.

Lance’s scream was drowned by his gag and then Keith was beside Coran, his hands tilting Lance’s face to the side and then pulling his torso that way as well. He thrashed and tried to wriggle out of their grips as he struggled, the pressure of being on the side that was on fire too much as his gut wrenched up nothing but yellow.

“Calm down Lance, you’re okay!”

“Breathe boy, you’re working yourself up and it’ll only make it worse. I think your appendix has ruptured, we’ll need to get you to the infirmary immediately...”

He wasn’t sure what was said after he that, his memory of getting to the infirmary was hazy because of how much it fucking hurt.

He was vaguely aware of curling up in a wheelchair, one hand clutching his stomach and another barely holding open a vomit bag up to his mouth. Nothing was coming up then except for saliva.

He didn’t even remember being lifted into a bed in the infirmary because the movement had unsettled his stomach once more, stealing his breath while he struggled against the vice wrapping around his empty stomach.

They had to put a cannula around his nose to get him extra air while he dry heaved, but he only calmed down after he quite literally almost stopped breathing and Keith ignored Coran’s protest to hit him on the back like before.

He was also sort of aware he had started crying at some point and was reminded of that when Coran was pressing onto his side once more.

At this point he didn’t even have the energy to struggle, he just continued to tremble violently under the touch as fresh tears spilled down his face.

“Hey, shh you’ll feel much better soon,” a new voice assured as they ran their hands through his damp hair. He leaned into the touch and saw that both belonged to Shiro.

“Shit, if I had known you had freaking appendicitis I would never have made you train today,” he laughed sadly.

He shut his eyes closed at that and tried to breathe through the waves of nausea against his pounding headache all topped off by the fire poker in his side.

“Coran what’s the estimated time in the pod for this, you think?” Keith asked as the others were just arriving.

“I’m afraid he cannot go into a pod just yet,” Coran said gravely, not once lifting his face from his tablet.

“Lance!”

“Woah, what the quiznak happened?!”

“He’s so freaking pale, oh my god.”

“It’s his appendix,” Keith offered.

“The scans show that the organ has completely ruptured and is leaking into his abdomen. It is something that can only be remedied with—with surgery.”

“Oh, Coran... is that—something we can even do here?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

The time between when Shiro explained what was going to be happening to Lance and when they were about to put him under went impossibly slow and too fast all at once.

He would gag occasionally but nothing came up with it. They had since attached a bunch of wires all over him and put an IV in his arm that was giving him pain medicine and antibiotics.

It seemed to help a lot with his discomfort and he eased into the bed after they finally kicked in, his body relaxing for the first time in a while.

“I’m n’gonna feel an’thing right?” He asked Coran, his words sloshing together from the mix of utter exhaustion and drugs.

“Of course not my boy, this will take care of that as will the pain medicine,” he assured as he held a weird altean breathing mask in his hands.

“I’m going to put it over your nose and mouth now, just breathe normally and we’ll do a little count down while you fall asleep.”

Coran motioned to place the mask on him, but he turned away from it.

Lance looked around wildly as if he couldn’t see the multiple friendly faces looking at him and the machines recording his heart rate began to pick up, and then was reaching for someone, anyone.

“We’re here! We’re all right here,” Keith said taking up his hand with a wire attached to his finger, Shiro was grabbing the other.

“I-I don-I don’t”

“You’ve got to buddy, you’re really sick,” Shiro soothed as he ran his hands through his hair once more. The touch calmed him only somewhat, his breath hitching once more as he continued to worry.

“I k-know, but I-I’m scared I w-won’t...”

He was crying again.

“Won’t what buddy?” Hunk asked tenderly as his hand fell to Lance’s leg.

“What if I d-don’t wake up,” he managed before his breathing took a turn and Coran rushed to go find a remedy for it, not quite understanding it was mostly him just being anxious.

Pidge was pushing past all the bodies looming over the bed and sufficiently blocking her from being able to help Lance, but once she shoved Shiro forward she was scrambling onto the bed and nuzzling herself against Lance’s good side.

He gasped at her presence but seemed to melt into it soon after he realized what she was doing. She pulled at the hand clutching Shiro’s and placed it on her back so he could feel her calm breaths and ground himself.

“Slow and deep, you’re okay,” she urged and leaned her head against his chest, his sweatshirt was still on but folded up under itself to expose his stomach, a circle had been drawn around the location of his appendix.

He leaned his head against hers and breathed slow shaking breaths.

“Coran it’s alright, he’s calming down on his own,” Keith urged just as Coran turned up with some strange altean herb that was purple and emitting some sort of low cooing sound.

“You’re going to be just fine, Lance. Coran would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah, and if you feel like taking an extra long snooze we’ll be here to rudely wake you up like we always do,” Pidge added and she could feel Lance relax under her weight.

“I’m s-sorry for being so mean earlier, guys—“

“Shh, no more saying ‘i’m sorry’. Just accept the cuddle and zip it.”

Lance could almost summon a laugh but the pain in his side prevented it.

“Let’s try again with the sleepy time mask, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

He reached for Shiro’s hand again and all of the other hands on him tried to soothe him as best they could as he tensed when the mask descended on his face.

“We’ve gotcha bud.”

“You’ll be just fine Lance.”

“Nothing bad can happen to when you’re being cuddled so viscuously.”

“Okay, let’s start counting back from 10.”

“10, 9—“

“Easy, count slower. You’re alright.”

A second hand was on his head, pushing his hair back and trailing behind his ear. He closed his eyes at the sensation, it was something his mamá would do.

“9... 8... 7...”

“That’s it number three, easy...”

Around 5 he stopped counting. He felt his body becoming heavier and heavier as he breathed through the strange mask, he could feel the gentle but firm touches of his teammates, the only constant as he breathed deeper and deeper, a pleasant haze falling over him.

He could feel the level in Pidge’s breath, and tried to match it, his eyelids feeling so heavy they were hard to keep open.

And then he felt light.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered shut was Allura and Hunk smiling while they said something that was lost on him.

He didn’t care though, he didn’t need to hear it to know what they meant.

He remembered feeling really safe in that moment.

He wasn’t scared anymore.

#vld #whump scenario #lance angst #vld lance #voltron fic #voltron whump #lance mcclain #sick boy #voltron sick fic #voltron fandom #lance whump #lance anxiety #keith helps #concerned keith

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guqin-and-flute · 4 years ago

Text

Are You Here to Stop Me? (Pt. 2)

[First post/Setting of Peony to Lotus]

[Part 1]

(TW for JGY having...JGY thoughts--violence and general bloody nastiness)

Jin Guangyao let himself slowly wander the Hall of Swords, hands clasped behind his back, one thumb worrying at the other as he waited. Waited for what was arriving on gilded swords, probably in force. He was not anxious, so to speak, but filled with the restless energy of a plan in suspension, ready for the next step to land. Alone--and the implications of that solitude sat oddly in his chest.

When Lan Wangji had flown them back through the freezing, torrential skies, they had tracked through the back halls of Koi Tower, avoiding his father, Madam Jin, and their personal servants in search of the Jiang contingent. After they had finally found them in their rooms and sent someone to clean the conspicuous trails of muddy water they had dripped everywhere, he shared what had happened and the plan that had begun its quick flourish into a many branched thing throughout his trip back. Their response had been shocked dismay, quiet panic, and...determination. It had taken startlingly little convincing to get A-Li to agree. Jiang Wanyin had taken longer, waffling about image, about expectations, about politics but, between the two of them, A-Li and Jin Guangyao had broken through his doubt enough for him to grudgingly agree to it.

After that, they had followed his every suggestion, up to and including leaving Lotus Pier to his lone stewardship while A-Li, Jiang Wanyin, and a few top disciples flew to meet up with and protect Wei Wuxian on his mad dash from Lanling to Yunmeng.

“We must still behave naturally--and you would be expected to try to find him,” he had reasoned, more than anything trying to convince A-Li that this was not some sort of strange Jin coup on her home. “If we are too calm, they will suspect a plot. I have the story straight and can cover from there. And it would be odd if you brought me along, considering how new I am to your clan--”

A-Li had laid her hand on his cheek, eyes wide with fear and fierceness. “A-Yao, you don’t have to explain. We trust you to watch our home. Just tell us what we must do.”

That had been...new. It had made it easier to slide around the dissonance this sleight of hand was causing him. Such blatant opposition to his father. It wasn’t that he objected to manipulating him--how else would he have secured a place in the Jin Clan had he not maneuvered himself to be too powerful of an asset to ignore any longer? It was just that, not so long ago, he had been prepared to do anything for the man, anything for his approval, his acceptance. In fact, he had. He had allowed himself to be blatantly discarded and married off almost immediately. It had...tilted him. The sudden shift in priorities, the derailing of his lifelong goal was disorienting to say the least and he was still sorting through the bloody, seething mess of it within himself. Foundations cracked. Absorbing information. Formulating. Deciding.

The still-leaking carnage of him was partially being soothed by the salve of A-Li’s gentleness and the easy acceptance of his presence in Lotus Pier, bit by bit, but….

He had covered A-Li's hand with his own, smiled, and neatly pared off that dissonance like an unwanted branch, tucking it out of sight behind a swell of protective warmth. Anything for her. Anything at all. This was simple enough.

Being trusted with the whole of Lotus Pier was still a different experience. In Lanling, Madam Jin hadn’t even trusted him to carry her tea. Here, the whole of the cove was laid in his hands without so much as a follow up question--the servants and disciples had hardly blinked. The strange weight of such faith did not go unnoticed, hanging from his shoulders like an unfamiliar cloak.

Far away, there came faint voices from the courtyard. Loud voices. Enough rumination. It was time. He needed to focus.

He had slept badly, mind churning with contingencies and when he had awoken, his lungs had been heavy with the cold and wet from their envoy pushing through the night on their swords to reach Lotus Pier with time enough to finalize their plans. It would distract and slow him, if he let it. Not for the first time, he had cursed his lack of spiritual power and ignored it. There would be time for such weakness later. Now, as light, quick steps came down the hall, he needed to be maneuverable.

He left his back to the door so he could jump a little when the servant opened it and poked her head in. “Gongzi? Jin Zixun-gongzi is here to see--” she bit off the tail of an indignant sound when the man himself brushed by her, not waiting for the introduction to be finished.

He was windswept and radiating an ill-contained temper as he slowly circled the room, studying it with deliberate disdain before coming to a stop before him. “Cousin,” Jin Zixun dripped as much malice as was socially ignorable onto the word and Jin Guangyao feigned an involuntary half-step back. “Let’s talk.”

The servant was still hovering by the door, eyes darting between them, her face hard, and Jin Guangyao could see the flashes of listening forms in the hall. The servants liked him, he knew--he had heard them murmur protectively over their new young master, heard whispers of their surprise at how well A-Li and he worked together, how much calmer things had gotten. He gave her a purposefully nervous smile and nodded. “You may go.”

Reluctantly, slowly, she obliged, closing the doors behind her. His obvious discomfort would not let them go far; listening, at the door as servants did. Good.

“So. Where are they?” Jin Zixun took back up his slow circuit of the room, intentionally moving around his back like a circling predator.

Jin Guangyao turned with him as if it made him nervous to have him at his back, face in a stiff and uncertain smile. “They are out looking for Wei-gongzi. He disappeared after the scene he caused at the banquet--”

“The Wen-dogs,” he cut across him irritably. "The ones he stole. Where are they?"

His smile widened uncomfortably, let it show in his voice. “I haven’t any clue. Probably with Wei Wuxian, wherever he is? Like I said, Jiang-furen and Jiang-zong--”

"Shut up," Jin Zixun snapped, wheeling on him. "You think you can talk your way out of what Wei Wuxian did? He killed our overseers and freed our prisoners, acting against our alliance with this backwater clan. We would be well within our rights to...respond."

They both knew that the Jiang Clan was still one of the major 4 after their reconstruction efforts. Jiang Wanyin had done an impressive job for one so young and inexperienced--and such an aggressive move would be seen incredibly unfavourably by both Chifeng-zun and Lan Xichen. It was an empty threat. A stupid one. He widened his eyes anyway. “I’m sure there will be no need to be so hasty--our Clan Leaders can talk, and we can straighten out this misunderstanding.”

He could see Jin Zixun looking him over, curling his lip. Men like him always thought they were smarter than people they deemed ‘lesser than’ and it was incredibly clear that he put Jin Guangyao into that category. There hadn’t been much time for Jin Guangyao to prove himself as an intellectual asset to his father before being married off, hadn’t been able to implement many political workings, and so he was virtually unknown to his cousin beyond ‘upstart bastard interloper’. Jin Guangyao saw the thought process ticking behind his eyes, deciding which tack to take. Saw his eyes narrow and his smile curve sharply predatory. Bully, then.

Alright.

“So they left you in charge while they look for him.”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, a quick jerky thing, looking away. “There wasn’t much I could do on such a search. I haven’t the strength yet to fly my sword and so….” he sighed like he was embarrassed and frustrated. “It’s all such a terrible mess.” Jin Zixun was silent and so he let it rest, let the tension build, let him think he controlled the flow of the conversation.

“And so what’s their excuse for their servant behaving so outrageously?” Jin Zixun finally asked coolly, hands behind his back as he slowly sauntered over to a tall lotus candle holder.

“He wasn’t--” He purposefully winced as Jin Zixun caught the base of it with his foot and, with a little jerk, knocked it over, spilling fast cooling wax all over the rich carpet. “...Supposed to do that.”

“Oops.” The idiot raised an eyebrow at him, as if he had done something clever. Waiting for Jin Guangyao to come over and pick it up.

Slowly, he did, tamping down the irritation in his gut with habitual ease. Such humiliation wasn’t new--and it would enrage the servants, who took pride in a clean home. Straightening the delicate ornamentation around the candle at the top, he turned his apologetic smile back to his cousin. “He just got overzealous--everyone is aware of his temper and how he views things he thinks are unjust. Wen Qing had just asked Jiang-zongzhu to look into the treatment of her people, as a favor to her, now that they’re--” he clamped his mouth shut as if he had misspoke and turned back to the candle, arranging it busily as Jin Zixun slowly tilted his head.

“Now that they’re...what.” My, he did like to think of himself as threatening, didn’t he? Certainly saw himself as the type that could pull off a quiet menace.

Unfortunately for him, Jin Guangyao had seen real menace. All he saw in him was a puffed up gentry brat.

“Married,” he said as if he regretted even mentioning it, threading a grimace through his wince of a smile. “It wasn’t supposed to be announced yet.”

Jin Zixun stared at him, a small, cruel smile of fury curling his lips. “Married. We haven't heard of this union. When exactly are you claiming this happened?”

Helplessly, he shrugged. “It wasn’t final until very recently, apparently--the Jiang, they marry for love when they can, and with the political tensions being so fraught, they wanted to wait until after things died down to announce it. And they thought it to be in poor taste to air such a thing before it was finalized.” He couldn’t resist the subtle dig at his father, parading A-Li around for so many years as a bauble for the future, only to be discarded. “But surely...surely it’s understandable for Wen-furen to want her family safe. It’s been months since the end of the War. Wei-gongzi was trying to be filial but overreacted….”

Jin Zixun smiled wide under rage filled eyes, slowly approaching and nodding, until he came within arms reach; then he all at once hauled him close by his collar, hissing, “You seem to think I'm an idiot.”

Jin Guangyao let his face fall into one of startled fear, shrinking in his grip. He indeed did think he was an idiot--but not an entirely stupid one, more’s the pity. The beauty of this excuse was that the Jin didn't need to actually believe it--no one truly did. The Jiang just needed enough plausible deniability to make an outright retaliation disadvantageous and protect the Wen remnants from future attack. He angled his voice to pleading. “This is all I know, Zixun, they don’t...they don’t confide in me for things like this.”

Jin Zixun gave a snort, shoving him away and off balance. Jin Guangyao’s hand itched to tug his robe back into place, but he simply patted at it ineffectually, as if anxious, keeping his head down. Let him see what he wished to see.

“At least they have sense enough not to trust you. Looks like you’re not fooling anyone, you snake; except maybe yourself. Did you know that Jin-zongzhu speaks of being rid of you often?”

Ah. So they were here already. Despite the curdling, vicious darkness that stirred in him, Jin Guangyao could have snorted. What an unpolitic moron. Spilling his Clan Leader’s private conversations for the chance to get a cheap jab. Perhaps it was true--it very well could be. But his father was still riding on the low profile waves of alliance this marital eviction had gotten him. Had Jin Guangyao not already been aware of the reason for his being married out, had he been pettier (and he how he sometimes yearned to be--but no, it was unwise to squander a pressure point so readily) this could have seriously damaged the relationship between the two clans. Having it known that he had given his treasured allies the dregs.

“He was right to get rid of you when he did,” Jin Zixun was continuing, turning back to wander again through the room. “Clearing the trash from the Clan. I hope you're not getting ideas above your station, here. I know they put up with more, but you should always remember what you are.” He turned around, lips curled into a smug smile. “Bastard. Son of a whore. The reject.”

It was difficult to know whether this was Jin Zixun’s attempt to strategically goad him as an interrogation technique or if it was simply venting his frustration--probably both.

And it was working, to a point. There bloomed a bright star point of rage behind his breastbone as the words pounded through him like poison, squeezing the breath from him and he forced himself not to smile in defense; he was supposed to be cowed by this, this was supposed to hurt. He swallowed and let his mouth tighten as his chin tucked in shame and imagined digging his thumbs into Jin Zixun’s eyes like so much overripe fruit. Bursting.

When Jin Guangyao remained silent, his cousin’s face twisted at his lack of reaction, before hiking back up into a sneer of a smile. “But that’s alright, because you two seem to make a perfect pair--the leftovers together.”

Something incredibly dark shifted within him and turned its attention to this conversation.

“Don’t.”

It left his mouth on a breath, a spark from the flint striking in his chest without design. He managed to dart his gaze to the ground before Zixun could see the flame of it within him.

“What did you say?” Jin Zixun rounded on him, close again, smile small and cruel, eyes gleaming with the prospect of a weak link. So it was calculated provocation, then. Searching for an excuse for violence and offense. Even more dangerous. He sank the nails into his palm.

It was possibly one of the hardest things he had done to speak evenly when the small dagger he had hidden at the small of his back seared into his skin, pulsing like an eager creature’s heart, calling to his hand. “Don’t talk about Jiang-furen in that manner….Please.”

Any other circumstance, and he could have protested--would even be justified as a husband to come to blows over such a thing. But there was a plan. And it was hard to seem weak and unthreatening in the midst of murder.

All Jin Guangyao needed him to do was leave. Take this filtered information back to his father. Tell him of the web of complications woven against them, Jin Guangyao’s manufactured outsider status in the Jiang’s--an open avenue for false information, exploitation.

All he wanted him to do was leave.

“Aww.” Blunt fingers suddenly sank into his jaw, forcing his chin up, trying to meet his gaze. He allowed the wince, squeezed his eyes shut because he knew his own limits--he knew where this is heading. He knew what he could and could not keep from his eyes. “Is the little whoreson actually in love with his pity-wife? The little wannabe-noble getting ideas above his station? You know the only reason you were paired with her, little filth, is because no one else wanted her, right?”

There was an approaching ringing in his ears, the tide of blood pounding louder and louder. Fire and water, drowning and devouring. His breath seared. Focus on the outcome. Focus on the fact that the servants are hearing this. The repercussions. The plan. Wei Wuxian. A-Li. It’s for her. Focus.

Focus.

“She’s a boring, talentless cow with the weakest golden core I’ve ever seen--”

Distantly, he was almost grateful for the throb coursing through him, that shook him in Jin Zixun’s grasp like a fish on a line, for it muffled his words to almost unintelligible garble, had him sinking his fingers into the bracer at the wrist of Jin Zixun’s imprisoning arm, as if he wanted to escape, as if he was afraid.

He did not want to escape. He was not afraid.

His palms prickled with emptiness, begging to be filled with a throat, a hilt, a heart. Soon, his own blood-heavy organ whispered from the crush of his chest, soon. “Stop,” he whispered, voice pressed thin by the weight of his rage.

“Or what?” Jin Zixun taunted, voice muffled, coming to him as if through water.

Or I will ruin the carpet of the Hall of Swords. Or I will lose my grip on this careful mask. Or I will have a blade through your gut faster than you can die and I will watch you writhe and shit yourself to death in far too short a time. And then I will have to find a way to make this work without you. Which would be tedious, difficult. Dangerous.

Almost worth it.

It’s for her.

Soon.

“I don’t know anything more, Zixun. You need...to leave.”

“Are you going to make me?”

It would be so easy to dart his head to the side and sink his teeth deep into his knuckles, to go for his throat. Slide the dagger neatly through his eye and into his brain. Like a keyhole unlocking such possibilities as blessed fucking silence.

Clearly disgusted with his lack of response, Jin Zixun shoved him away from him with a snarl. Jin Guangyao caught himself on a pillar and stayed pressed there, head down, hair fall masking his expression, feathering over the pulsing bands left on his jaw.

“I should have known it was useless to talk to you.”

Jin Guangyao stayed motionless as the doors slammed behind him, as Jin Zixun’s footsteps retreated. As the side doors flew open and the servants and the disciples they had clearly summoned rushed to his side, the exclamations of their indignant anger washing over him in shallow waves. Hands patted his robe, gripped his shoulder, raised his chin carefully and he managed to analyze his own expression, reassuring himself of its blankness. It would have to do. They might take it as stunned.

“--bastard! That--that--! I can’t believe he said that about Jiang-furen! I’ll skin him alive!”

“--alright? You’re so pale--”

“I always knew the Jin were pompous and selfish, but this is too much! To come here and say this in the heart of Lotus Pier--to Jiang-furen’s own husband, of all people!”

“The gall! That piece of shit!”

“Jin-gongzi, talk to us, are you alright?”

It took him a few breaths to be able to look up, to regain his voice, and when he did, he made no effort to steady it. “I am. I’m fine. We need--we need to prepare for Wei-gongzi’s arrival.”

There came more sympathetic hisses, more fretful tugs of his clothes--he knew from experience that it was nearly impossible to tell the difference between a voice shaking from fear and a voice shaking from barely suppressed savagery, if one's face was arranged correctly. His was. He made sure of it.

The tightness of his rage-lit chest did not abate when he went to the front courtyard to bow off the small glittering retinue of JIn, where he was, of course, ignored. Watching their receding backs as the clouds swallowed them up, he let his face drop entirely for a moment with only the ornately carved door ahead of him. Let his eyes burn.

When he turned around, he offered the crowd behind him a harried smile. “We should probably send a few of Yunmeng’s delicacies after them. As an apology for the imposition of their journey.”

This sparked muttered suggestions of what bodily fluids might be able to be included and what species’ feces could be hidden most easily behind heavy spices. “I could kill him for what he said about Jiang-furen,” one of the shimei’s said, eyes blazing.

Oh, Jin Guangyao did not say, shuttering his eyes as if regretful. You needn’t bother.

Soon.

Back in their room, in front of A-Li’s round, polished mirror, he impassively considered the bruises on his jaw, the heat in his gut at a low, murderous simmer. He would have preferred a black eye, but perhaps less was more, in this case--more subtlety meant more double takes, more chances for curious ‘what ifs’. The story was bound to evolve anyhow, to become more fantastical as the enraged servants gossiped with their friends, their waiters, their fruit vendors.

The noble Jiang, marrying for a love forbidden, taking beleaguered, harmless Cultivators under their wing and being threatened for it. Those villainous Jin, demanding back their spoils of war, treating Jiang-furen’s new husband as if he were still a common Jin servant. The indignity of it, the insult. Just like those star crossed tragedies. The Young Masters and Mistress of Lotus Pier were already folk heroes in the eyes of the common people--rising from the ashes of their slaughtered family to build anew, kind and just. This all would appeal greatly.

Ever loyal, the people would probably find a way to alert them if any Jin lurkers were to show up. Ingratiation of the Wen, alienation of the Jin, deification of the Jiang. Truly, this couldn’t have gone better.

There would be a more formal--not to mention informed--meeting later, involving Jiang Wanyin, Jin Guanshan, and possibly Wei Wuxian himself. This was probably supposed to have been a precursor to that, a scouting mission meant to gather information, meant to be secretive and unnoticed. What a pity.

His smile stretched thin and sharp at his own metallic reflection. His chest was still tight and full, and his fingertips still ached for the rust of someone’s pain, but he simply straightened his robes, slowly and deliberately. Time to prepare for their guests.

And figure out how slowly he wanted Jin Zixun to die.

#[Sings Zixun's Gotta Die to the tune of Earl's Gotta Die]#Peony to Lotus #my fic #my stuff #text

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thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

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KuraNeon Short Fic

Okay, this is one of my longer tumblr short fics, it’s 1000+ words.

Rated M because of lemon. Pairing: Kurapika/Neon

This is not the full length of the fic, the full version will be completed and posted on AO3 when I have the time.

Before anyone starts complaining about their age, Kurapika and Neon are born in the same year. In the current arc, Kurapika is technically 19 years old. I have had people complain about Neon being underaged (people deadass think she’s 12 to 16 tf), but then they go ahead and sexualise Kurapika because “he is an adult because he’s 19”. You can check it here.

Anyway, it’s fiction. Don’t take it seriously. I will just block anyone who tries to start a drama over drawings and fanfics.

Warning: sexual content, hate-sex, angry sex, angst, mentions of daddy issues

Here we go:

Kurapika wanted to stop this... Whatever they were doing. Yet his reasoning flies out of the window whenever he sees Neon in a flattering night attire.

Here he was, shirtless, with the woman sitting on his lap. Her spaghetti-strapped blouse was pushed down, her breasts exposed to him.

"I told you not to tempt me," he said. He licked her nipple and bit it lightly. Neon let out a small groan.

Kurapika had attempted to tell her that this dirty affair they had was inappropriate and unbecoming of them. Yet, for the past week, Neon had been giving him subtle flirtations and wearing clothes that showed off her skin (as compared to the baggy ones she normally wears).

The last straw was her talking about his Scarlet Eyes... while fondling the chains on his hand.

No.

That had to stop. For one, she was teasing him. Secondly, she recently found out about his Kurta identity - she was pissing him off on purpose to get "punished".

That woman should know her place, objectifying his clan's eyes like that.

He placed small kisses on her neck, then back again to her breasts. She shivered - it felt good.

"Are you happy now? You spoiled girl," he muttered against her breath sternly. She yelped when he slapped her ass.

Huh? That's weird.

His hands got underneath her skirt. Fuck. This girl wasn't even wearing a pair of underwear. She really wanted to get hate-fucked. By him. Again.

His fingers found her sex, all dripping in her arousal for him.

"So good," she mewled. She quivered under his touch.

Of course, she was satisfied, but never happy. There was a difference.

He inserted another finger.

Neon had always been like him - an empty vessel. Perhaps, even lonelier than him.

"M-more!" she moaned, demanding to be satisfied.

"Always wanting to be pampered," he huffed. What a greedy girl.

A father who exploited her fortune-telling, for fame and power; in exchange, he'd buy her all the things she wanted. The endless indulgence of material goods that she filled her heart with, yet it can never be full.

Ever since the Lovely Ghostwriter was stolen from her, the one thing that made her useful to her father... It was gone.

"You can never be satisfied, Neon," he said.

"Yet, you still do this with me," she countered, playing with his blond hair. She gripped Kurapika's hair and looked at his now-reddened eyes. Those eyes were beautiful... that held so much wrath and danger.

She had loved them when they were on a set of casing...but to see them on a deranged man when he takes her... it was... strangely exciting.

Kurapika said nothing, only kissing her in response.

Shut the hell up - he thought. He didn't like when she played mind games while they were doing this.

The kiss tasted sweet - so much turmoil in him, that he wished that a kiss could wash it all away. Wash away all his painful memories.

She snaked her hand into his pants. He hissed at the contact. Fuck. He needed this.

She giggled at his reaction, seemingly pleased, but her eyes said otherwise. Her father no longer paid attention to her, and it was obvious that she was trying to replace this by letting her head bodyguard (who was the same age as her) fill her.

She inserted his penis into her, squealing. God, Kurapika disliked her high-pitched voice whenever she complained. Yet, the noise that she makes during sex was what rubbed his ego - pleading, squealing, mewling, moaning as he rammed into her.

He halted for a moment, to lay her back against the bed. Then slammed himself again. Neon screamed, then covered her mouth alarmingly. He was enraged, she could tell. She really got onto his nerves, with her callous comment.

That disgusting hobby of hers. Collecting dead body parts that reflected her lack of sympathy towards the dead. Again, to fill that empty husk of her beautiful body. To treat people like objects because people see her as a predictive tool. A mere object.

She was her father's cash cow, the mafioso's crystal ball, another name in Chrollo's book and now, Kurapika's personal sex doll.

He removed her mouth. He wanted to hear her. She bit her lip, attempting to be quiet as possible.

He knew this. He wrapped her arms around her lower back, giving a new angle to ride her further. She yelped, in both surprise and ecstasy.

"Slow... Down..." she pleaded, her fingernails digged his shoulders. He said nothing.

"Papa... Papa might - ah!- hear us," she reasoned to him.

But he did not listen.

"I think - ah fuck!- he already... He knows," he said.

It was an open secret around the Nostrade mansion. It was not far-fetched for the young pair, who were equally lonely, to get caught into some odd agreement. She did expect her father to have some sort of reaction, though?

Neon's eyes watered slightly. Whether it was due to her being upset with her father's nonchalance, or Kurapika's roughness - Kurapika was unsure.

Kurapika did help Light recover from their financial slump by redirecting their mafioso business into something else. Perhaps it was some sort of sick reward Kurapika has earned when he chose to help them.

He brushed away the mascara-stained tears from her face. "Stop crying," he commanded, and gave a deep thrust that caused her to yell.

He did know she was going through a tough issue. But it can never be compared to him, his loss. The eyes of his clan gouged out just for people like her to enjoy them as displays. He should be the one crying, but there were no more tears left for him to shed.

He then remembered her hobby - why he was here in the first place. He began to incorporate his resentful energy into the form of pulsating desire, pounding into her mercilessly.

"Give it to me..." she begged, holding him tightly while her toes curled.

Her whole body started to shake.

So close...

Just a little more...

Then he stopped.

Neon immediately glared at him. It was one of his punishments again. To give her all the pleasures into a peak then abruptly crashing it into such a non-climatic disaster.

He laid on her side, brushing her messy hair off her face. They were both sticky, perspiring from their intimacy.

"Don't cry," he comforted and kissed her forehead.

Or I will give you something real to cry about, flesh collector.

She nodded. "Good girl," he said. He stood up.

He gripped her thighs, dragging her until her lower body was out of the bed. "Turn around," he commanded, and she obeyed him.

"Wait..." she protested, looking back slightly, "I want to see your eyes while you-" He gripped her hair. The audacity of this girl to still treat his eyes like a commodity... but in her eyes, he is the same. Another man in her life that sees her as an instrument.

"No. Not tonight, Neon. Look in front," he instructed.

If I catch you looking back, you're going to get it - he thought while he inserted his dick inside her again.

"I- ah!" she heaved, "I - hah - hate you..."

She managed to blurt out. He frowned. He didn't like that, be it she truly meant it or it was out of not getting what she wanted.

Because he couldn't resent her. He disliked her attitude, sheltered personality, her hobby... and worst of all, how she makes him desire her.

But it was never hatred. That was a feeling meant for the Phantom Troupe. She wasn't special enough for that.

He found her clitoris and rubbed it, all swollen and wet from arousal.

He noticed how she opened her legs slightly further to give him better access. Such hatred, huh.

"Yet... You're here," he replied. All he got was a repetition of her breathless curses and whimpers.

“Just… mmph! Turn me around…” she mumbled in the midst of the coitus.

“No-”

“P-please?”

No response. He only did her harder.

“I’ll… do anything,” she said. She looked back, rebelling against his rule. She kissed him before he could scold her. Neon stared at the glowing eyes, completely bewitched by them.

“Anything?” he questioned, and he withdrew himself out of her.

“Yes, daddy, anything-”

She pouted for an added-effect. She knew that was one of his weaknesses. Kurapika sighed.

“Okay-”

It was going to be a long night: he wasn’t done with her yet.

[A/N: I did not proofread this, so pardon the grammatical errors]

#kuraneon #kuraneo #kuraneon fic #kuraneo fic #kurapika x neon #kurapikaxneon #kurapika and neon #kurapika is drowning #kurapika is drowning in an indescribable emptiness #neon nostrade #kurapika

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semperintrepida · 4 years ago

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100% Relative Humidity

Kassandra had just finished inspecting the fenceline along the back forty when she saw the flash of red — not the orange-red of fire or the arterial red of blood, but the deep bright red of ripe berries, the kind that caught the eye and made the mouth water with imagined sweetness. The berries stood out against a backdrop of Kermit-green leaves the size of her hand, and she grinned with recognition: thimbleberries. Kyra's favorite.

Perfect. She'd been daydreaming about Kyra all day. Kyra, bent over the kitchen table. Kyra, pressed against the bookshelves downstairs. Kyra, splayed across their linen sheets, her skin dusky with arousal, whispering—

Soon. She'd have Kyra in her hands soon enough. She dug out a handkerchief and set to picking, despite the cloudy skies threatening rain, and she was careful to keep from damaging the fragile fruit as she placed them into the sling of fabric. All sorts of berries thrived in Oregon, but the thimbleberry had resisted all attempts at cultivation. Too wild, too graceful to tame, it carried its nature within its delicate flavor. All other berries paled in comparison.

A big handful was all she risked picking — too many in a pile and they'd crush themselves — and then she journeyed through the woods back to the house she and Kyra had built on a hillside overlooking a hollow in the Coast Range, in one of the last stands of wild forest left after the timber companies had clearcut every mountainside and replanted them with nothing but Douglas fir.

There were Doug firs here, yes, but also western red cedars, hemlocks, spruce, and pines, and she'd even found a few Pacific yews scattered across the acreage. After a career of trying to save forests from wildfire, she'd finally gotten some trees of her own.

Raindrops pattered the grass around her as she knocked the sides of her boots against the post at the bottom of the stairs up to the house. Even in Oregon it was rare to see rain so early in August.

Inside the mudroom, the door to the kitchen was wide open, and she shed her boots without making a sound. Kyra was standing at the kitchen sink, humming as she cleaned a paintbrush, and Kassandra crept up behind her, silent in her sock-covered feet. She carefully avoided the squeaky floorboard near the woodstove, then slid her body against Kyra's, pinning her against the counter so she couldn't turn around and deck her after being startled.

"What—" she gasped, then blew out a breath of exasperation. "Did you have to scare me?"

Kassandra smirked. "You'll forgive me, 'cause I have a present for you," she said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Kyra did. No hesitation. And Kassandra rewarded her with one of the thimbleberries.

A moment later, she turned around as far as Kassandra's hips let her, her face beaming with delight. "They're finally ripe?"

Kassandra smiled and nodded.

Kyra had a smudge of dark green paint above her brow and another under her chin. "We need to go picking."

"Yep." She held another berry to Kyra's lips. "Maybe tomorrow. Rain's starting up."

Kyra sucked Kassandra's finger into her mouth along with the berry, and she flicked her tongue against the pad of fingertip she'd captured, her warmth erupting into heat. Then she set Kassandra free, gifted her a silky smile, and turned back to the sink.

Kassandra's heart revved up, valves opening wide, the pump coming online. She set the berries on the counter. "Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah." Kyra flicked the brush, the water in the sink milky with paint. She'd spent all day working in her studio. It was once the old machine shed, and they'd knocked out the wall that faced the valley and put in floor-to-ceiling windows. If Kassandra knew mountains and forests by the miles she'd walked across them, Kyra knew how to capture them with paint, in large-scale landscapes of rocky crags and misty woods and still waters.

Ten years they'd been together, as Kassandra worked her way up from her first Hotshot crew to leading a crew of her own, and Kyra began making a name for herself with her paintings. Ten years, but they'd spent much of it apart for months at a time, as Kassandra's crew shipped out to fight fire from Washington to New Mexico. She'd even gone to Australia a couple of times.

There was nothing else like it, the way a wildfire moved like a living thing, how it could be benevolent when contained, or demonic when left to its own devices. And she'd loved her work: the camaraderie of her crew, the challenge of 16-hour shifts over days and nights, the satisfaction of a fire contained. She'd even loved the danger.

But a couple years back, when that deadfall had caught her and nearly taken her arm off above the elbow, Kyra had begged her to quit if her arm didn't come back right.

Her arm healed, almost good as new. She'd always been good at that.

But she still quit anyway.

The wildfires were bigger now, the terrain more rugged, the seasons longer. She used to work for six months at a stretch; now she could work almost year-round if she wanted to. But every shift was a gamble of life and limbs, and Kyra had already spent years waiting for her at home, dreading every phone call.

It was time. Her life was no longer hers alone to risk, not if she wanted to spend a good long chunk of it with Kyra, and she needed her limbs, to do things like slip her hand inside the waistband of Kyra's trousers, to slide along the curve of Kyra's ass, to find the source of Kyra's heat. She'd always been good at that, too.

Kyra was damp and only a little swollen. Disappointing. "You didn't think about me at all today, did you?" she whispered into Kyra's ear, a pout in her voice, milking it for all it was worth.

Kyra's ass pushed back against Kassandra. "I... had to focus." She'd been finishing up a painting, the canvas almost as tall as Kassandra, bound for some rich man's house up in the San Juans. The sale would pay their property taxes for the year.

She'd been working so hard lately. She deserved a reward.

That was something Kassandra could give her. "How about focusing on this?" she said, and she slid her fingers close to Kyra's clit, close, but not quite touching, and grinned when Kyra dropped the paintbrush into the sink and pressed her palms into the countertop.

"Fuck," Kyra said, her voice quivering, and soon her muscles were quivering too, as Kassandra's fingertip set a fireline around her clit and Kyra's body answered with wet, sticky heat.

"Patience, love."

Kyra's laugh was short and incredulous. "Patience? That's rich, coming from—"

She slipped two fingers inside and stole the rest of the thought, and Kyra gasped and rocked her hips in reflex. Kassandra leaned forward and pinned Kyra harder up against the counter, and she buried her face into Kyra's hair, breathing in the toasty scent of her, warm and familiar and perfect...

Then she heard Kyra's voice, saying, "How long can you hold out, really," the burr of it vibrating into her own chest and lodging there as Kyra clenched her muscles tight around Kassandra's fingers.

"Sounds like a challenge," Kassandra said, and her free hand brushed Kyra's hair aside to expose her neck, stroked across her solid shoulder and bicep and forearm down to her hand, and their fingers entwined as Kassandra bent and started branding hot kisses into the arc of her neck. And sometimes it wasn't a kiss — it was the sear of raked teeth, or the burn of suction, Kassandra's wants flaring against her surface.

Oh, how she wanted. The heat in her belly burned along her veins, like fire spreading through tree roots under the forest floor. She wanted to fuck Kyra hard until she came, then fuck her again and again. But the gauntlet had been thrown. How long can you hold out?

Now Kyra was trembling and panting as Kassandra worked her up with short, teasing strokes that climbed but never peaked. But as rarely as Kyra ever begged out loud, her body always did it for her, her mouth falling open, her thighs spreading wide to expose how fucking soaked she was.

Oh, how Kyra wanted, too.

She was so wet that she ran down Kassandra's fingers, pooling in the palm of her hand. Ready and willing. And so Kassandra smiled, flexed her fingers, and...

Stopped.

Outside, it was raining hard enough for fat droplets to splash in through the open window. Kassandra pulled her hand away, her heartbeat doubling up at Kyra's whimpers of frustration, and she reached across the sink and tugged the window closed.

Her hands on Kyra's hips, firm, pulling her around so they stood face to face. A kiss as she loosened buttons, tugged trousers down. And then she lifted Kyra up to sit on the edge of the counter next to the sink, and Kyra stared at her, breathless and flickering.

She ran her hand through Kyra's slick heat, eased the tips of her fingers inside. Kyra sighed and her thighs spilled open wider. Wanting more. God, she was beautiful this way.

Then Kassandra leaned closer so their foreheads touched, and Kyra lifted her arms and circled them around Kassandra's neck, and they breathed each other in, and Kassandra closed her eyes and listened to the surge and splash of her own blood.

"Kassandra?"

"Hmm?"

"If you don't do something in the next two seconds, you're sleeping in the studio tonight."

Kassandra played dumb. "Oh, was there something you wanted?"

Kyra rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" She always had an attitude when she was being done to.

"Something like this?" Kassandra asked innocently. And she stroked deep deep inside, easily, languidly, until Kyra tilted her head back and let out a moan in perfect counterpoint to the rain drumming against the roof.

Kassandra was retired now. She had all the time in the world, and she made sure Kyra knew it, knew that the stamina that had powered Kassandra up and down mountains while carrying fifty pounds of gear and a chainsaw was now going to keep Kyra right on the edge of orgasm as long as Kassandra wanted.

Rain on the roof, dripping from the eaves, soaking the earth, the air scented with dark rich soil and the musk of need as they moved outside of time. "Oh god," Kyra said at some point, as she wriggled on the countertop, eyes closed, arms a circle of tension around Kassandra's neck. She was close, too close. Kassandra pulled back. Slower now. Not so deep. Feel Kyra quivering around her fingers, feel Kyra want.

All Kyra had to do was say please. She knew it, always had. But she was stubborn, so stubborn that it gave her secret away.

"You love it when I do this," Kassandra said, and then she leaned forward and kissed Kyra, helping herself to that sumptuous mouth while her fingers kept moving in the rhythms of build-up and denial. "I haven't been taking care of you well enough, if you could go all day without thinking about me."

"'s not true."

"Maybe I should wake you up every morning like this." Her fingertips sought the deepest place, that soft, hidden spot, and she lavished it with gentle attention until Kyra was writhing against her. "Work you up so you're just about to come, and then... stop." And she stilled her fingers to match her words.

Kyra buried her face into the side of Kassandra's neck, shuddering into her in long, rolling waves.

"You'd think about me then, hmm?"

Kyra groaned into her skin.

"I like this idea."

Kyra lifted her head and stared at her, eyes dark as loam and filled with pure, naked wanting. Her lips parted, and her mouth moved soundlessly as she breathed, showing flashes of tongue that made Kassandra's clit burn. Later. They'd plenty of time for that too.

Kassandra smiled. "So remember this part," she said, and then she fucked Kyra for real.

It was glorious, the way Kyra arched her back in offering, the way the muscles in her neck and arms corded as she held on tight, the way she cried out with the fierceness of a hawk as she came. She rippled around Kassandra's fingers, her pleasure imprinting itself into Kassandra's skin, and Kassandra pulled her close, held her as she trembled and caught her breath.

"Fuck," Kyra whispered.

"I was planning to," Kassandra said, and she scooped Kyra up from the counter and carried her in her arms.

"Oh yes. More," Kyra said, smiling her slow, silky smile. "But this time in bed."

Kassandra was already on her way.

Part of the Heat Index...

#kyssandra #kassandra #ac odyssey #wildland firefighter kassandra #yes lol yes yes yes #shameless smut #plot what plot #distracting myself from this hell week by writing smut #*slaps the top of this fic* this bad boy can hold so much self-indulgence #this is what sellout was supposed to be before i screwed up that story #yes mom I'm writing smut now #heat index

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skdubbs · 4 years ago

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Let Love Find You

Chapter 1: An Awkward Introduction

Summary: Love has a funny way of finding you when you’re not looking for it. Commander Fox discovered this the hard way when a box arrived on base and pique his interest.

Here it is. I can’t believe I'm finally doing this. A huge huge HUGE shoutout and thank you to @detroitbydark for all of the encouragement, feedback, and listening to my ramblings about this story. You’re the best.

This story will be the first in a collection of three interconnected stories taking place at the same time. I hope you all enjoy!

It all started with a box.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard stared at the parcel currently sitting on his desk amidst piles of carefully cataloged holopads. The contents of said package laid innocently next to the box. He’d had part of it scanned and tested, twice. Absolutely nothing alarming to be found. And yet Fox was still unsettled.

In the year since taking up his post, he’d never been rendered speechless. Well, today the boys could mark it down in the books. Truly, the commander didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. The mental conundrum Fox found himself in was beyond exasperating. Sighing, Fox shook his head, then glanced at the flimsi note he held. Once more, he read the delicately written script.

To: Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard

Dear Sir,

I’m sure this package and its contents might cause alarm and confusion. Please don’t allow it to do either. This is simply a token to express my thanks to the troopers involved with the skirmish in the market district on Level 3 nearly four rotations ago. Their actions saved my life and that of my daughter. When we expressed our gratitude, my daughter felt the shock trooper didn’t think we were sincere. Hence, this small gift. I ask that you please see to it that the troopers involved receive this token and understand how grateful we were for their timely arrival. For there are citizens on this planet who are aware of the services the Guard provides to ensure our continued safety and peace. Thank you for your help in this matter.

Sincerely,

Arissa Blunt

Fox knew without looking it up what skirmish Ms. Blunt referred to, as well as the troopers involved. Reach’s report had made mention of the two citizens he’d pulled away from the fire fight, a young woman and child. Interestingly enough, Fox had also heard through the guard barrack’s grapevine that Reach spent most of that night crowing about a civvie thanking him and how pretty she’d been. According to Reach, her body was a man’s wet dream.

At the time Fox had scoffed and pushed the matter out of his mind. He had far more important matters to contend with than one of his trooper’s infatuations. All of the men would have one at some point or other. It was a natural result with overexposure to civilians after a lifetime of social isolation. Fox was one of the few he knew to never fall to such an affliction. That didn’t mean he hadn’t dabbled and explored his options. The commander had simply never experienced the magic of someone capturing his attention for more than a moment of a little physical pleasure. Until now.

Commander Fox was intrigued, all because of a box of homemade ginger spice cookies, a short note, and an infatuated trooper’s embellished description. Again, Fox sighed. Maker, he needed a drink. And it wasn’t even 1200 yet.

He commed Captain Stone, the squad leader there on the day in question.

“This is Stone,” came the greeting.

“Captain, round up the troopers involved in the skirmish on Level 3, I’m sure you remember the one,” Fox instructed. “They’ve got a gift waiting for them in my office. Apparently Reach’s story wasn’t completely fabricated.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. It was brief, but Fox knew it for what it was. Shock. “Right away, sir,” Stone replied.

Fox disconnected, then turned to inspect the baked goods still sitting on his desk. Ginger spice cookies. Homemade, no less. Damn, they smelled good.

Fox smirked. What the men didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He plucked one cookie from the pile, taking a small bite to test the flavor. A groan of delight broke past his lips. This was one of the best frekkin’ things he’d ever had the pleasure of eating, and that's saying something. After all, the position of Commander of the Coruscant Guard afforded certain luxuries and privileges that few other clones were allowed.

The commander took another bite, savoring the taste. What he wouldn’t give to have something this good to eat every day. His eyes found the note again, sitting on his desk in stark contrast to everything else. Arissa Blunt. One has to wonder what kind of woman she was. Fox had every intention of finding out.

-----

After giving the boys their gift (the looks of shock and delight on their faces had caused a grin on his), Fox decided to investigate. It took little effort to find the information he needed. Another perk to his position.

Arissa Blunt, single human female aged 22 standard years. Currently a member of the Republic military’s research and development division located here on base. His brows had raised at that. He merely needed to leave his office and walk across the facility in order to find her. Her focus was prototype military-grade weapons. So, she worked on creating better ways for his brothers on the front to do their job. While he didn’t know her, Fox felt a swell of appreciation for this woman.

He was shocked and intrigued to find she held her position with no formal training. Instead, Ms. Blunt came into the program through the recommendation of a member of the board. It was highly irregular. Perhaps some nepotism was involved? But that made no sense either. According to her file, Ms. Blunt had no living relatives, only a young daughter named Gemma. Cute name, he’d thought.

Out of curiosity, Fox looked her up too. Gemma Blunt, single human female aged 5 standard years. Currently enrolled on scholarship at a school for gifted young children located noooo in a more well-to-do area of the upper levels. So, the kid was smart.

A part of Fox was impressed. And even more intrigued, especially as he gazed at Ms. Blunt’s photo. Reach hadn’t exaggerated, she was quite pretty. Not in the glamour model sort of way. But you could see the potential lying underneath her cute veneer should she ever try to be one. And those eyes….well, they’d surprised him too. Most humans didn’t have violet colored eyes, at least not naturally. But on her they were stunning. They drew you in and spoke volumes. As if the secrets they held were more than just her own. She could know yours without you evening realizing. A fanciful thought perhaps, but there all the same.

And that is why Commander Fox found himself making the long trek to the R&D division on base a few hours later. Amazingly, he had an hour free. Plenty of time to pay Ms. Blunt a visit. He could convey the men’s appreciation and slake his curiosity.

He’d found a technician by the name of A’tron Rogers when he arrived. The man had the audacity to scoff at him when he stated who he was looking for. Fox wisely kept his helmet on, knowing full well what kind of person he was dealing with. It was rather obvious what Mr. Rogers thought of clones and about doing anything for them. One had to wonder why he was in a position that required him to help create weapons that helped said clones.

“Yeah, she’s back here,” he’d snapped. “Follow me.”

Resisting the urge to call the man on his insubordination, Fox followed. They made their way further back into the lab and came to a stop at what looked to be some kind of long range canon. However, the weapon wasn’t what caught Fox’s attention.

Fox froze, his brain gone blank. Before his eyes, bent over at just the right angle, was perhaps the most perfectly shaped ass he’d ever seen. His mouth watered while his blood rushed south. Mentally, he cursed. This was not a good way to start an introduction.

“Blunt!” Rogers practically screeched, trying to get the technician's attention. It certainly did the trick, albeit in a painful way. Arissa’s head shot up, caught by surprise, only to have it collide with the paneling of the prototype she’d been working on. A string of low muttered curses followed the loud clang. Fox winced in sympathy.

After a moment or two, Arissa straightened, seemed to take a steadying breath, then turned to face them. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second when they landed on him. However, she recovered quickly, her face becoming unreadable as she turned to her coworker.

Fox wished he could say the same. That beautiful shebs he’d been staring at not long ago should have warned him at what else he’d see. Because, by the maker, Reach hadn’t exaggerated. Not one bit. Arissa Blunt truly was a man’s wet dream. Her hair was up and covered, but he didn’t need to see the dark brown wavy locks again to know how it finished the masterpiece that stood before him. Even wearing coveralls covered in grease splotches couldn’t detract from that hourglass figure or the small waist. And her breasts. By Fett, they were a handful and more. So much more. Again, Fox was grateful he’d chosen to keep his bucket on. He’d have looked like a gaping fool otherwise.

Arissa addressed Rogers, her voice even and devoid of emotion. “Did you need something, Rogers?”

The shorter man huffed, obviously put out by her lack of response to him. Fox made a mental note of that. Maybe it wasn’t just clones the man had a problem with. “You’ve got a visitor. Commander Fox here needs to speak with you.”

The technician’s gaze swung over to him, that violet gaze holding him captive. Again, he noticed a moment of trepidation, as if she feared his presence. Fox scowled, annoyance flaring. Her reaction was classic for a citizen. They either looked at him and his brothers with fear or disdain. He wasn’t sure which pissed him off more.

“I see,” she replied. “Well, I’m due a fifteen anyway. If you need me, we’ll be in the conference room.”

Rogers snorted, then left. Yup, that chakaaryc really didn’t like Arissa Blunt. Fox focused his attention on the woman before him. As he looked closer, her nerves became more obvious. What did she have to be nervous about?

“Ms. Blunt,” he greeted, his voice stiff and formal.

“Commander Fox,” she greeted in return. Grabbing a rag, she wiped her hands off, then motioned for him to follow her. “Whatever you need to tell me, it’d be best said in the conference room. Otherwise, everyone else in the department will know about it before the end of the day. You wouldn’t think it, but the lot here are as bad as a bunch of gossiping housewives.”

Nodding, he followed. As they left the lab and made their way down the hallway, Fox couldn’t help his eyes from looking. The sway of those hips were going to haunt him. Another curse ran through his mind.

Soon enough they reached their destination, Arissa gesturing him inside. He took up a position further in, standing at attention while he waited for her to shut the door.

“Would you rather sit, Commander?”

“No thank you, miss. But please don’t stand on my account. Have a seat.”

He patiently waited while Arissa got comfortable. Once she seemed settled, he dove right in. “I assume you know why I’m here?”

That flash of trepidation was back. It was gone immediately, but still, he saw it.

“I think so,” she quietly answered. Her tongue came out to wet her lips. Despite himself, Fox felt a knee jerk reaction to the tiny movement. Maker, this needed to stop. Now.

“Then explain yourself,” he ordered.

That got her attention. Arissa straightened, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Explain myself? I thought the note I left was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Perhaps,” he hedged. “However, your reaction to my appearance here would say otherwise. I thought you appreciated what the guard does for the citizens of Coruscant. Someone who is appreciative doesn’t respond with fear in their eyes.”

Arissa’s eyes widened, first in shock, then in anger. However, when she next spoke, her voice remained even. “From my point of view, your sudden appearance here is rather suspect. Troopers, let alone commanders, don’t make random visits to this part of the base. Any fear you saw was my worry that I’d done something wrong.”

That made Fox pause, considering. Her words in the note had sounded sincere. And someone who feared or hated clones wouldn't have sent something in the first place, not without it having some sort of repercussion. Perhaps she had a point. Finally, Fox relaxed his stance.

“I suppose your reaction would make sense then,” he conceded. “I apologize for alarming you, Ms. Blunt.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known. I’m sorry I gave you the impression I was like all those ungrateful idiots out there.”

Fox stared at her. Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. Apparently Ms.Blunt lived up to her name. He cleared his throat. “Now that that’s settled, would you mind explaining to me why you felt the need to do such a thing?”

Arissa started fiddling with a loose thread of her coveralls. A nervous tick. “I already told you in the note I sent with the package. My daughter thought the trooper who helped us didn’t believe we meant what we said. I was helping to make him see otherwise.”

A scoff escaped him. “Forgive my own cynicism then. I’m used to people having ulterior motives. It’s my job to find them.” He shrugged. “So, it’s a little hard to believe there wasn’t something else behind your actions, appreciated as they are.”

While he knew he was being something of a di’kut, Fox needed to know. He wasn’t lying. Any civilian he’d ever met had some sort of ulterior motive, most often to the detriment of his men.

She didn’t speak for a while, sitting there in quiet contemplation. Then, those violet orbs caught the gaze of his visor and held it. She wanted to get this right, he realized. She wanted him to believe her. “Maybe because men who didn’t have a choice in choosing this life deserve something good once in a while.”

Speechless, that’s what he was. She said it so plainly and without artifice. Fox knew she meant it, every word.

“I see,” he replied, voice quiet and low. “Well, allow me to express my gratitude and that of my men. It may not seem like much, but those sweets were the first gift any of those men have ever received. It might be the only one.”

“You’re very welcome, Commander Fox.” Her voice was quiet too, her eyes soft and understanding. How Fox wished he could get lost in them for more than just a few minutes. It was time to go. Now.

“You’ll excuse me then, Ms. Blunt, for taking up your time. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’ll see myself out.” Fox made to do just that, not leaving her a chance to say anything in return. He was almost to the door when-----

“Commander, could I ask a favor?”

Fox stopped, then looked over his shoulder. Here it comes. “What is it?”

Arissa gulped, her nerves showing once more. Fox smirked. Already in such a short amount of time, Fox knew he’d enjoy setting her on edge on a regular basis. It was a shame their paths likely wouldn’t cross again.

“I know this may seem silly, but would you be willing to write a short note to my daughter? I know it’d mean the world to her to hear how much the troopers that helped us enjoyed the cookies.”

“Can’t you just tell her?”

“I could,” she allowed. “But she might think I’m lying. Sometimes she has a hard time believing things if she doesn’t have evidence. Finding out you came to tell me yourself just how much the gift was appreciated will be suspect without some kind of proof.”

“Is your daughter really that cynical?”

Arissa laughed, shaking her head. Fox had to admit she had a lovely laugh. Fett, he was going soft. “No, not cynical, commander. Just a child who needs encouragement that something is real when she’s had so many other disappointments.”

While Fox was curious as to what she meant by that statement, he didn’t ask. Honestly, what was the harm in writing the kid something? There was none. Besides, he was more than happy to do it.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.”

The smile she gave him made an answering one pull at his lips. Thankfully, his helmet hid the sight. Yeah, this was definitely not good.

------

“Mommy! You’re home!” Gemma squealed in happiness as Arissa stepped through the door. Arissa was barely inside before her five-year-old daughter wrapped her tiny arms around her torso and squeezed.

Arissa paused, soaking the moment in. A smile pulled at her lips while the hint of tears teased her eyes. This right here made everything worth it. The ridiculously long days. The demeaning remarks and catty behavior from her coworkers. This was her why, the reason she kept putting up with everything.

She wrapped her arms around Gemma and squeezed back. “Hello to you too, Gemma. Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” Gemma pulled back, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing in her excitement. “Did you miss me?”

Arissa chuckled, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Welcome home, Arissa. Long day?”

Arissa glanced up, making eye contact with the teenager lounging on the lumpy pale green couch in the apartment space that served as a living room. She barely withheld a grimace, thinking back over her day. “Just the usual, Trix.”

Although it really hadn’t been. Not when a certain unsettling clone commander decided to pop in and pay an unexpected visit. Gods, she’d thought for a moment there she’d done something wrong, that somehow the gift Gemma had practically begged her to make was illegal. Panic had filled Arissa, assuming the worst. But then he’d thanked her. Thanked her. Like a box of ginger spice cookies was the best gift his men had ever received. That wasn’t really too far off the mark, though, was it? And that black visor. When he’d held her gaze, Arissa had felt as if she were naked. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her fell that way. Definitely not something one wants to feel upon meeting a commanding officer of the GAR.

Shaking her head, Arissa focused back in on the present. “Did the two of you eat yet?”

Trix suddenly appeared uncomfortable, a look of guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah, we did. I, um, thought it’d be nice to treat Gemma to something. We went to Dex’s Diner and had the works. Saved some for you, too.”

While she knew why Trix might feel guilty, Arissa couldn’t fault the teenager for spending the money instead of eating the leftovers in the fridge. A year of being homeless and dodging traffickers and drug dealers had done a number on Trix. The kid’s useless father had abandoned her just days after her mother passed away. And the lower levels of Coruscant were not kind to the young and innocent. Arissa knew this fact quite well. Trix was finally getting back on her feet, working at a local bakery to make some money while attending school at night to finish her primary education. She lived in the third bedroom and watched Gemma when Arissa had to work late. And Trix positively adored her. So if Trix wanted to spoil Gemma with a night of burgers and shakes, Arissa wasn’t going to complain. She was far too grateful for the help to even think of chastising the teenager for splurging.

“That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks for thinking of me,” She smiled at Trix, hoping the teenager understood she wasn’t mad. “I can’t remember the last time I had Dex’s. Is it as good as I remember?”

Gemma giggled. “Even better! Oh, and we got to meet Dex. Did you know he’s a besalisk? I’ve never seen one before. He answered all my questions, too. Didn’t act like I was a bother or anything.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Because he realized right away what a bright and inquisitive mind you have, sweetie.” Arissa’s heart warmed at the kindness the diner owner had unknowingly extended her daughter. Gemma truly was inquisitive, wanting to know anything and everything. And amazingly she remembered it all. However, there were some people who found the girl’s nearly constant questions an annoyance and something to discourage. It was why she’d done so poorly in school until transferring into a private academy. Thank the maker for that scholarship. She bent over and lifted Gemma up, holding the young girl as she made her way to their small kitchen table. “Now spill. How was your day?”

Asking Gemma that question was all the kiddo needed to start regaling her mother with the events of the day. Arissa listened attentively as she went about putting her dinner together. She laughed when Gemma explained how a boy in her class had water come out of his nose during lunch and praised her when told how she’d received perfect marks on yesterday’s exam. Trix stayed with them for a while, interjecting comments here and there before retreating to her room to start on her school work. They wished the sixteen-year-old good night as mother and daughter both knew they likely wouldn’t see the teenager again until morning. Arissa was done with her dinner and working on a mostly thawed nerf milkshake by the time Gemma asked how her day went.

Arissa had thought long and hard how she wanted to present her surprise. She pulled the note from her back pocket and slid it across the table’s surface. “I had an unexpected visitor today. He asked me to give you this.”

Curious, Gemma carefully unfolded the note. Even at such a young age she handled everything with a great deal of care. Violet eyes scanned the note, then widened in shock. When Gemma finally looked back up she was smiling from ear to ear. “He wrote a note. He really wrote a thank you note!”

The smile breaking across Arissa’s face almost hurt. Seeing her daughter’s happiness at something so small was beyond precious. Mentally, she filed the image away to remember when the moody teenager years hit. “I was told not to read it. That it was top secret until your eyes saw what was inside. Think you could read it to me?”

Gemma nodded enthusiastically.

“It says: Dear Miss Gemma. Thank you for the lovely gift of ginger spiced cookies. I have shared your present with the troopers involved in the skirmish four rotations ago in the market. They were very surprised and grateful for your thoughtfulness. They rarely get a thank you for their work. Your mother tells me you are a bright student and love to learn new things. Did you know that members of the guard love uj cake? I highly recommend trying it. Please continue to do your part as a good and loyal citizen of the Republic.

Sincerely,

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

The excitement radiating off of Gemma was contagious. She truly was happy from Commander Fox’s words. Arissa sent a silent thank you to the commander for taking the time to fulfil her request. Maybe she could find a way to let him know how much his note meant. But he must be very busy. Why would he care about any of this?

If he didn’t care, why would he bother in the first place? He could have said no.

“Do you think I could write a reply, mommy?” Gemma asked. “Maybe we could make them some uj cake since they like it so much and leave a note with it like before.”

That made Arissa pause. “Perhaps. But don’t you think the rest of the guard might get jealous when only a few of them get to have some?”

Gemma’s brow furrowed as she contemplated that possibility. “I guess you’re right. I know I wouldn’t like it if only a few of my classmates kept getting something and I didn’t.” Then her face brightened. “Maybe we could make some for everyone! That way no one felt left out. Oh but,” Gemma frowned as she realized something. “That wouldn’t work either. There’s so many of them, aren't there?”

Arissa hmmed, feeling her heart squeeze with regret as her daughter’s face fell. For someone so young, she truly had a compassionate and giving nature. She wanted everyone to be happy. “I’m not sure how many there are, but yes, there are a lot of men in the guard. Far too many for us to make enough for everyone. I’m sorry sweetie.”

The evening wore on, the hours passing as the world outside transitioned from day to night. Despite her disappointment, Gemma managed to recover. They played a few games, took care of Gemma’s bath, and cuddled on the couch to watch a silly holomovie before Arissa announced it was time for bed. Arissa read a story of her daughter’s choosing, sang her a song, and kissed her good night. Once Arissa left the room, she’d make a cup of tea and curl up on the couch with a book, losing herself in the passionate romance of her current novel before heading to bed as well. It was like so many other night’s, this ritual their evenings had become. But tonight would be different.

“Mommy?”

Arissa paused, turning back to face her daughter. Only the top of her head and her eyes were visible above the fuzzy purple comforter she’d cocooned into. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Will you please tell Commander Fox thank you for writing me that note? I really did like it. And I think he’d like to know that, too.”

The breath whooshed out of Arissa’s lungs. She hadn’t expected this. But how could she refuse? “Of course, Gemma. I’ll tell him tomorrow. Now, get some sleep. You have a big day at school in the morning.”

“Can you make rainbow berry pancakes for breakfast?”

Arissa couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, Gemma’s tone was just too hopeful. “I think I can manage that. Now, sleep little one.”

Gemma giggled, happy at her mother’s answer. “Okay, okay. Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gemma.”

Arissa closed the door and made her way to the kitchen. She tinkered around the small space, getting things ready for the morning while her tea water boiled, then steeped. Once finished, she grabbed the old and worn romance novel off her caf table, the flimsi pages yellowed with age. She happily made herself comfortable on the couch as she dove into the world of high passion…..

Five minutes later, Arissa was back in the kitchen, a notepad open to a clean page while her holopad came to life. She scrubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” As soon as the piece of technology was up and running, she began bringing up Republic military records, trying to get an accurate head count of how many men filled the ranks of the Coruscant Guard.

------

Now, while Arissa was toiling away at the kitchen table trying to work out a plan to fulfill her daughter’s wish, said daughter was busy working on another matter instead of sleeping.

Gemma waited for her holopad to boot up, reading the note from Commander Fox almost obsessively. She’d never thought in a million years her mother would come home with any kind of news about the gift she’d begged her to make. Instead, she’d brought home a note. A note! Gemma very quietly giggled, pressing her face into her pillow to better muffle the noise. She was in the next star system from how happy that little piece of flimsi had made her. The five-year-old sent a desperate plea to the gods, asking them for the chance to meet this Commander Fox. Yes, she’d asked her mom to thank him, but she wanted the chance to tell him herself how much his note meant to her. And she wanted to show him just how much she could learn when she set her mind to it.

Finally the holopad came on and Gemma brought up a search engine. Adults were always so surprised when they saw how well she could navigate tech at her age. For whatever reason, it was astonishing. Gemma didn’t pretend to understand why. Carefully, she typed in uj cake, then hit search. She skimmed over a promising article. It did sound rather yummy. Perhaps she could convince her mom to help her make some after school tomorrow and she could share it with the class. The kids would probably like that. Maybe it’d help her make a few friends.

The article said the recipe came from Mandalore. Intrigued, Gemma decided to search the planet, not knowing what she was getting herself into. What she read fascinated her. Hours went by and Gemma refused to sleep, far too invested in learning more about this old creed of warriors. She had only nodded off when her mother came to wake her, far earlier than usual.

Gemma’s groggy eyes met her mother’s. “What is it, mommy? Is something wrong?”

Arissa shook her head, a hint of mischief lighting her eyes. “No, sweetie. I just needed your help with something. How would you like to help me make some uj cake this morning? I think a certain clone commander would appreciate it.”

It took a moment for Gemma’s sleepy brain to understand exactly what her mother was saying. When she did, she shot out of bed so fast she almost knocked her mother over. Excitement took care of the exhaustion she’d felt just moments ago.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, then dashed out the door to the kitchen, her mother’s laughter following after her.

What neither realized then was how their actions that morning would come to shape the rest of their lives.....and those throughout the galaxy.

#commander fox #commander fox x original character #original female character #clone x ofc #I am so freaking excited this is finally up and going

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transientwordsmith · 3 years ago

Text

Stuck in My Mind | Part 1

Hello all! So I know that I’m in the middle of a series right now and also that I don’t get much support on my tumblr but that’s okay! I’m going to keep going anyway! This one is called Stuck in My Mind (to be explained in the summary). I am going to post in in a few parts but it’s divided differently on ao3 if you decide to read it there. I will also be uploading all of the parts within 15 minutes of each other so you will not have to wait! Summary: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, and Peter Parker (aka Captain America, Iron Man, and Spiderman) get hit with a spell that causes them to relive memories of good times with friends and potential romantic partners. | Word Count: ~1500 | Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, May Parker, James “Bucky” Barnes, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Original Characters | Link to ao3!

“I need backup over by the 7-11.” Peter heard Tony’s voice come through the coms. Peter started making his way over to him.

“On it,” Peter and Steve said in unison. They made eye contact as they both arrived at the same time.

“Watch yourself, Spiderman,” Steve warned Peter as they rounded the corner.

“Right back at you,” Peter replied.

Peter only caught a glimpse of Tony before he was knocked off his feet by some kind of explosion.

He blacked out.

When Peter woke up, he was alone. He was wearing different clothes and in an unfamiliar place. Peter was sitting on the edge of a field; and was wearing a light blue tshirt and jeans instead of his Suit.

Wait a second. No he wasn’t. He did recognize this place. This field was near Albany, where Ben’s parents lived. Peter looked to his left and saw a small playground a little ways away. There were some children playing there with their adults watching them. Peter made his way over.

As he approached the park, he noticed a little girl with black hair and a pink shirt. She looked sort of familiar…

“Did you find a good stick?” she asked Peter.

“What?” Peter was confused.

“A stick. For mixing our potion?” The girl said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Peter realized he knew her name; a fluke, really. Her name was Chloe. Peter had only met her twice, and both times were at this exact park. He remembered this day now.

“A stick…” Peter looked down at his hands and there he saw a rather large twig in his right hand. “Here’s one.” He offered the stick to Chloe.

“Perfect,” Chloe said. She took the stick from Peter and led him over to a small hole in the ground filled with water, leaves, and rocks. She shoved the twig in and began to mix the sludge around.

“Peter!” Peter heard someone yell from behind him. He turned to see Aunt May standing at the edge of the park. She looked a lot younger than he remembered. “Peter, it’s time to go, sweetheart.”

Peter sighed. “But I don’t wanna go!” he called back.

“Don’t make me come over there!” May told him. Peter put his hands up in surrender. He turned back to Chloe.

“I have to go,” he explained. “I’ll see you next time.” Peter realized he had said that without thinking--it’s what he had said when this event had really happened. He hadn’t had any idea that there would be no next time. The next time Peter came up to Albany, Chloe’s family had moved away.

Peter gave Chloe a quick hug anyway (sort of awkward from his perspective as he was very tall now and she was not) and ran to join Aunt May at the curb. They started walking back to the car which was a little ways down the road. There was a line of bricks laid on the ground which Peter decided to walk on (while holding May’s hand, of course).

“Hey, Peter, what do you say we pick Ben up from Gramma and Grampa’s house and then we go out for dinner?” May suggested. Peter was more focused on his footing than what May had said, but he vaguely registered it.

“That sounds like a great idea,” he said and jumped off the last brick. But when he looked up again, May was gone. He was not in the field any longer. He was somewhere new. Somewhere he didn’t recognize at all, no matter how hard he tried.

---

“I need backup over by the 7-11.” Tony’s voice came through the coms. Steve finished tying up one of the little thugs he was fighting and tried to figure out where the 7-11 was.

“On it,” Steve and Peter said in unison. Steve saw Peter swinging on lamposts and decided to follow him. They made eye contact as they both arrived at the same time.

“Watch yourself, Spiderman,” Steve warned Peter as they rounded the corner.

“Right back at you,” Peter replied.

Steve saw Tony backed up against a wall for just a moment before he was blasted backward by an explosion. He hit something hard.

He blacked out.

Steve awoke to find himself sleeping on a bench. He sat up and looked down at himself. He was no longer wearing his Suit, but instead a light green button down shirt and gray slacks. His top 2 buttons were open and his sleeves were rolled up--for a good reason. It was too damn hot for anyone to be able to function.

Steve surveyed his surroundings. They looked familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it…

“Steve!” Steve looked toward the sound of the noise. There he saw Bucky (looking considerably younger than he remembered) wearing a similar outfit to his, holding two popsicles. He was walking away from an ice cream truck.

“Steve,” Bucky said again once he got closer. “Here, I got you a cherry flavored one.” He handed Steve a red popsicle.

“Thanks…” Steve said hesitantly. Then it dawned on him where he was: a block away from his old apartment. He remembered this day. It was two weeks before Bucky signed up to fight in the war.

“Scoot over,” Bucky all but pushed Steve over on the bench.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve scooted over to the edge of the bench.

The two of them sat there, enjoying their popsicles for a little while, the sugary water dripping down their hands and staining their lips. When they were both done, Bucky took his and Steve’s popsicle sticks and pocketed them.

“What are you going to do with those?” Steve asked.

“I’m gonna add them to my popsicle stick model of the White House,” Bucky explained. Steve could see it in his mind’s eye: a small model of the White House in Washington D.C. made of popsicle sticks, painted white with dried paste sticking out between the sticks.

The two of them stood and began making their way back to their apartment. They passed by an empty lot where some children were playing, a bird’s nest on some low hanging branches, and a brick wall. Steve ran his hand along the brick wall. He watched as his hand caressed the rough clay and mortar.

When there was no more wall to touch, Steve looked back at Bucky, but he was gone. Steve behind him, expecting to see Bucky a bit farther down the road, but he was not there either. In fact, nothing that had been there a moment ago was there anymore. Not even the brick wall.

---

Left, right, left, right, left--Tony blocked attack after attack from this space-wizard dude. They both kept moving backward, and Tony knew that eventually he would be cornered with nowhere left to go.

“I need backup over by the 7-11” he called into the coms. Right, right, down.

“On it,” he heard Peter and Steve say together. Down, up, left.

He kept taking small steps backward, trying to give himself more time before he was completely cornered, but it didn’t work. He felt his back hit the wall.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Steve and Peter turn the corner. At the same time, he watched as the space-wizard dude created a glowing orange ball and threw it at the ground. It exploded and Tony’s head snapped back against the wall.

He blacked out.

When he came to, he was outside. And he was wet. What? Tony looked down at himself. In place of his Suit was a pair of blue and green boardshorts and a grey tank top. He looked around at his surroundings and found that he was at a pool. Whose pool? His father’s pool at his childhood home.

“Wow, a little bit of water and the great Tony Stark is speechless!” came a voice from the pool. Tony looked and there was Rhodey--with hair?--standing in the pool, arms akimbo.

Tony suddenly remembered this day. It was an unusually warm day in April, so Rhodey and Tony had decided to swim for a bit, seeing as they had the week off and they had nothing better to do.

“You wish,” Tony echoed himself from his memory and jumped in the pool, effectively spraying Rhodey and everything in a 10 foot radius of the pool.

The two young men (they had been young at the time) splashed around for about a half hour longer, having the time of their lives. When they were all tuckered out, they laid on the side of the pool, heads in the grass, feet in the water. They soaked up the sun, hoping they wouldn’t burn in this extreme heat.

“D’you want some ice cream?” Tony asked.

“Is the sun made of hydrogen and helium?” Rhodey responded. Tony shoved him.

“No need to be rude. I’ll be right back.”

Tony stood and turned back toward the house. He followed the brick path from the pool area to the back door. Tony crossed the threshold and glanced back at Rhodey only to find that he wasn’t there anymore. Neither was the pool. He was standing in the doorway, but now he wasn’t sure which out of the millions of doorways in the world it was. He had no idea where he was.

Part 2 | 3 | 4

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fic #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #irondad and spiderson #tony stark has a heart #may parker #bucky barnes #james rhodes

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maidenof-thesea · 5 years ago

Text

Snakes & Butterflies | Part XII

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (in the future)

Words: 5k (WHEW!)

Warning: minor swearing

Note: Yall I tried posting this earlier but tumblr was not cooperating with me! UGHH! Anyways here’s part 12 for those who have been waiting! This time it’s extra long! I didn’t realize lol. Hope you enjoy <3

Reminder: * conversations in Korean *

Jimin

“I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Y/N stammered, her face flush and she waved her hands nervously. “I just wanted to see how the snake may look since you are a lot older now..”

Wait

“You know what my Mark looked-looks like?” I said feeling my heart drop to my stomach. “I don’t remember showing you my Mark when we were kids..”

“That’s weird,” Y/N said as she tilted her head in contemplation. “Maybe it really was a dream but I could have sworn that you had a snake and Jungkook had a hawk.”

How does she know this?

Ever since I could remember, our parents told us that we were never supposed to reveal our Marks to humans...because they were so completely different from our soulmates. Hoseok and Yoongi hyungs’ Marks don’t match at all..just like mine and hers never matched either. Was I too perhaps having issues with my memory?

“Now that I think about it…” Y/N muttered deep in thought. “I don’t think I’ve seen any of the guys’ Marks…”

Shit

I opened my mouth to say an excuse or anything as to why none of us had shown her our Marks but I only stammered for words. I never really thought as to what we would say, I don’t think any of us have honestly.

“Oh!” Y/N said in realization. “Jungkook mentioned that you guys took a pact. Similar to wearing a purity ring..but like the opposite..”

If it was even possible her face was even more red but this time she looked like she was on the verge of tears from embarrassment. She’s so cute. I go to pat her stroke her cheek but she stops me by grabbing my wrist and she’s refusing to make eye contact. Maybe it's not from embarrassment.

“Y/N, are-”

“I’m gonna take that shower now,” Y/N says abruptly as she hops off the counter and swiftly exits the laundry room, leaving me all alone.

“Similar to a purity ring but like the opposite”

“Why would Jungkook tell her that?!”

But it was true at the time. You were quite busy during college.

“That was probably her first kiss…” I muttered softly to myself as I sat on the couch. I could hear music coming from her room and the sound of running water. “She must think I’m some sort of player or something..”

“Why would she think that?” Seokjin hyung said from the hallway. His arms are full of groceries. I quickly got up to help him. The rest of the guys following him in a line, their arms full of groceries.

“How are you guys back so quick?” I ask, ignoring his question. What time was it? I lost track of time!

“We did online ordering, we just went to pick it up basically,” Taehyung said, wiping his forehead from the sweat. “Man it’s hot.”

“I still don’t think that lady gave us good cabbage,” Hoseok said with a slight frown as he placed the said vegetable on the counter.

“Hyung said it was fine babe,” Yoongi replied. “Trust the chef.”

“Where’s Yuki?” Namjoon muttered already heading to the porch.

“Namjoon!” Seokjin yelled. “Don’t think of escaping! We need to make 3 months worth of kimchi and side dishes! We need everyone to help!”

Namjoon does a 360 spine and heads straight into the kitchen, his expression sheepish. The hyungs start chit chatting and whatnot. I sat down on the couch once more and I found myself listening, water was still running and her music was still playing. I was hoping they would be gone a little longer so I could have a chance to explain myself

“Noona in the shower, hyung?” Jungkook asked, carrying a huge bag of rice without so much as sweating.

“Yes,” I answered feeling my face turn a bit red. “Did you tell her about our pact?”

“Umm..” Jungkook said nervously. “I did...should I not have?”

“Don’t worry,” I sighed, pushing my hair back. “I’m not upset.”

“But?” Jungkook asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“I just didn’t want her to think I’m a player..”

“Trust me,” Hoseok said from the kitchen. “I’m sure you didn’t made it obvious yesterday.”

Yoongi and the hyungs laugh and I shove my face in the nearest throw pillow, sighing in frustration.

“Did something happen?” Taehyung asks and I could tell he was genuinely curious but his mischievous side was showing once more. “Why are you so worried she thinks you’re a player?”

“Yea,” Seokjin said also. “Why Jimin? And don’t avoid the question again!”

“I-“

We all hear the music turn off and her door open. Yuki darts for the nearest exit and from the expression on Y/N’s face, I could tell she wanted to do the same thing. Her eyes looked a little swollen and her cheeks were flushed. Her lips...were swollen as well.

“Hello Princess,” Hobi said with his signature sunny smile. “Are you ready to make kimchi?”

She smiles and nods and I could tell it’s genuine from the way her eyes spark. Will she ever smile like that for me again?

Taehyung

“Jimin and Y/N have been avoiding each other,” Jungkook says as he fills another bucket with water to soak the napa cabbage.

“It’s more like she’s avoiding him,” I mutter as I wait for him to finish, so I could fill my bucket. Why did we have to make so much kimchi again?

“Oh,” Jungkook says as he glances once more at Y/N, who is cutting the cabbage while Namjoon sprinkles kosher salt and massages it. Jimin, who is on the other side of the island, is helping Seokjin hyung make sigeumchi namul which is blanched spinach that is seasoned later on. Both Yoongi and Hoseok are making kongnamul muchim or seasoned soybean sprouts.

“Do you think he made a move?” I asked and Jungkook almost got whiplash from how fast he turned. “What’s with that reaction?”

“Do you think hyung would do that?” Jungkook said, his eyes unreadable. Not really answering my question.

This kid...does he really have feelings for her?

“Isn’t that part of the plan?” I ask nonchalantly, carefully watching Jungkook’s expression. “I mean I know none of us care that she’s human..but the council won’t be as forgiving. Nonetheless we still want a happy ending for them right?”

“Yea,” Jungkook sighed and grabbed my bucket to fill it. “I guess I’m just worried about how she would react...this whole time she thought-she never imagined having a Soul-”

“YAH!” Jin yelled, making all of us jump. “Does it take two of you to fill buckets with water?”

“Sorry!” Both of us answer and I immediately head back with one of the buckets, almost tipping the bucket in my haste. Y/N sees this and her eyes widen in surprise.

“Careful!” She says running towards me. She quickly grabs the bucket and we both maneuver it to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry Noona,” I say with a lopsided grin. “I didn’t mean to almost wet the floor.”

“What?” She replies. “Oh! I don’t care about the floor, you could have slipped if it spilled! You’re okay right?”

Instead of replying I simply nod, I really didn’t know how to reply honestly. Her eyes were filled with concern and honesty. I’ll admit a part of me felt pleased that she was concerned, almost like a doting mother. She smiles in return and quickly heads to Jungkook, warning him not to fill the bucket too much. Unable to help myself, I smile to myself biting my lip in the process. When I look up, Jimin is staring at me with a piercing gaze, almost as if to say ‘what are you so happy about?’. I shrug and it seems to annoy him even more.

“Hyung,” Yoongi asks, mixing the sprouts in a ceramic bowl. “Why are we making so much again? I mean I know there’s eight of us, but it’s not like we’re gonna eat Korean food all the time.”

“I’m making some for Y/N too,” Seokjin replies. “She’ll have plenty after we leave.”

“W-What?” Jimin stutters and almost loses his footing. “Leave?”

Both Jungkook and Y/N walk back in and both of their smiles disappear quickly after hearing Jimin’s panicked tone. Jimin’s face turns white and he looks back down at the bowl of spinach in front of him.

“Just thinking about the end of our vacation makes me sad!” Hoseok sighs and he wipes a non-existent tear from his eye. “You’ll miss me right Y/N?!”

He runs to her and rubs his cheek against hers. She laughs and pats his head, cooing in the process. I glance at Jungkook who is staring in concern at Jimin, who seems to have regained his composure. Yoongi pats his back to comfort him.

“Let’s not think about the end,” Namjoon says as he places the cabbage to soak in the water. “Let’s enjoy what we have in this moment.”

“Yea!” I say cheerfully. “Hyung are we gonna make jap chae too?”

“Oh!” Y/N exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “I want to learn how to make those glass noodles! Jennie never got her mom’s recipe for me..”

We all laughed at her eager expression and her and Jin hyung came to an agreement to exchange recipes. Hyung was curious about how to make tamales and posole. After a couple of hours, Jin and Y/N had successfully made not only jap chae but also Korean macaroni salad.

“All this is gonna take time to ferment..” Jimin mutters rubbing his stomach. He must be hungry. “What are we gonna eat for lunch?”

“How about Noona’s famous pasta?” Jungkook suggested with his dimple smile. Jimin looked hopeful at Y/N and she nodded and proceeded to pick up the dirty mixing bowls, Jimin and Jin proceeded to help her but she shooed then away.

“Rosa is on her way,” she explains. “I told her to come a little late because we tend to clean at this time.”

“Plus,” Y/N said, clasping her hands and pulling her phone out. “And I quote, ‘Tell those boys that if they don’t give me their dirty laundry to wash, that I won’t show the handsome one how to make flan or arroz con leche’”

“YAH!” Jin yells with a bit of blush. “Bring hyung your laundry! I need those recipes!”

And just about all of us scramble up the stairs, racing to our rooms, not one of us wanting to get between Jin hyung and his recipes.

After making the creamy alfredo sauce from scratch, I was about to put the pasta to boil just as Rosa made her way into the house. Both Jungkook and Jin are following her like ducklings. Jungkook was smiling his signature dimple smile and Jin was slightly pouting. What was this tactic called again? Ago? Ego?

“Aegyo?” I questioned myself. Both Jungkook and Jin both glanced at me with the same expression: shut up!. I chuckled and threw my arms up in the air. “¡Doña Rosa! ¡Ya llegaste! ¿Como estás?” (“Madam Rosa! You’re here! How are you?”).

“Bién míja.” Rosa replies with a slight chuckle, fully aware of what we were all doing. “¿Estás concinando?” (“I’m good my daughter. Are you cooking?”).

“¡Sí!” I say with a smile as she pats me on the head. “¡Estoy concinando pasta!” (Yes! I’m cooking pasta!”).

“¿Me puedes salvar un plato para mi?” (“Could you save a plate for me?”).

“Claro que sí Doña.” I reply and she smiles and puts on gloves to start washing dishes. (”Of course Madam”).

Both Jungkook and Jin’s eyes were wide in surprise. Jungkook was stammering and Jin’s mouth was open wide in shock.

“N-noona you can speak Spanish?” Jungkook asked. “Why don’t you speak it more often?”

“I am half latinx Jungkook from my Mom’s side,” I answered, sticking my tongue out and he smiled a sheepish smile.

“What was that?” Jin said curiously. “Was that a latinx version of aegyo?”

“Something of the sort..” I say with a slight smirk.

“What did you say to her to get her to smile?” Jin said with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Listen closely my padawan,” I said, causing Jungkook to laugh and Jin to be confused. “Latinx women love to be called ‘Doña’ which is basically equivalent to ‘Madam’ or ‘lady boss’.”

“So respect?” Jin asked with a tilt of his chin. “I guess I understand that…”

“Plus you have to be cute,” I reply with a smirk. Jin gasps dramatically and Jungkook almost rolls on the floor with laughter. Then Jin grabbed the nearest towel to whack me with, making me run out into the living room, with him right on my heels. “Yoongi save me!”

“Wha-” Yoongi says sleepily. “You’re on your own Princess!”

“Wah!”

“Come here and admit I’m cute!” Jin says climbing over Yoongi and the couch.

“Listen!” I say hiding around Namjoon who was reading something on his phone. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for!”

“You can’t hypnotize him Y/N-ie,” Hobi says from the ottoman clutching a plush pillow to hide himself. “Trust me I’ve tried!”

“Once someone calls hyung ugly,” Namjoon whispers. “He won’t stop until you admit he’s not.”

“ADMIT IT!” Jin yelled.

“But I didn’t call you ugly!” I yell desperately, jumping over the couch almost tripping over Yoongi. “I just said you weren’t cute!”

“THAT’S THE SAME THING!”

“Oh god this is almost as bad as when Jin and Taehyung were arguing over who was more handsome..” Yoongi whispered to Hobi who nodded in agreement. Just then both Taehyung and Jimin-a shirtless Jimin- came in through the porch, Jin taking full advantage of me being distracted threw the towel straight at me.

“JIMIN!” I yell as I run to him for security instinctively. “Save me!”

Without hesitation, Jimin met me halfway and stood in front of me protectively.

“W-what are you doing hyung?” Jimin says with slight fear in his voice. “We could hear you from outside..”

“She said I’m not cute!” Jin explains trying to reach around him.

“But you aren’t cute hyung.” Jimin says.

And almost everyone in the room was quiet and Jin looked as red as a tomato. The only sound we could hear was Rosa humming as she swept the kitchen.

“Do you want to die?” Jin said quietly. I had no idea what he said but I felt Jimin’s heartbeat increase. Jin took one step closer and I heard Jimin gulp. From the shadow I could tell Jin raised his hand-

“Oppa!” I say clutching Jimin’s arms, who froze. “You’re too handsome! You ooze sex appeal! I mean ‘cute’ doesn’t define you! You’re more than that!”

Once again the room went quiet. Jimin was as still as a board but I could hear his breath. He was breathing deeply as if he was angry, but before I could ask, Jin’s attitude was completely different.

“That is very true!” Jin laughed obnoxiously. Clearly what I said was going straight to his head. He was completely unaware of everyone rolling their eyes. “I am very handsome!”

“Yes hyung you are,” Namjoon said sitting next to Yoongi. And they all began to talk like normal, leaving me and Jimin to gather our bearings. Once I unclutched my hands from his arms, I realized that what I was actually clutching a tattoo sleeve cover. Jimin then turns around and looks at me with unreadable eyes. I gulp nervously and attempt to walk away but he catches me by the collar of my shirt.

“Did you get my text?” Jimin whispers. I look at him in confusion and he sighs.

“Sorry I left my phone in the kitchen..”

“It’s okay,” Jimin says with a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “I’m hungry, can I have some pasta?”

“Yea,” I say, not being able to meet his eyes. “Do you want shrimp or broccoli?”

“Shrimp!” He says excitedly and almost as if it’s natural for him he clutches my hand and leads me to the dining room.

“¡Míja!” Rosa says from the kitchen. “The pasta is ready!”

“Coming!” I reply. “I’ll be back with a plate for you.”

“Me too Noona!” Taehyung and Jungkook both yell sitting down at the table.

Jimin

“Yah,” I say with annoyance. “Can’t you guys eat later, I’m trying to talk to her here.”

“Ah,” Namjoon says entering the dining room as well. “Sorry I’m hungry too..”

“Oooh is Jimin trying to have alone time with Y/N?” Hobi says tugging a disgruntled Yoongi into the room as well.

“Jimin,” Jin says seriously. “Don’t yell at her too much, it’s not her fault she finds me attractive!”

I glare at him while everyone else rolls their eyes and yet again he is oblivious to his own obnoxious self. Y/N then enters the room balancing two bowls in her hands. I get up to help but Jungkook beats me to it and places the two bowls in the middle of the table.

“I’m gonna get some paper plates,” she says. “Oh and I also made a quick salad earlier and I didn’t have time to bake garlic bread but I have some Hawaiian rolls if-”

“That’s fine babe,” I say following her into the kitchen, ignoring the way Jungkook’s eyes widened. I grabbed the plates from her and she quickly grabbed the bowl of salad and packet of hawaiian sweet rolls. Once she places the stuff on the table, I quickly grab her and make her sit next to my chair.

“But the dri-”

“I got it,” I say smiling. For some reason her catering to the guys is pissing me off. I grabbed the lemonade and water bottle. Rosa is now in the living room vacuuming. I wave hello and she smiles and waves back. I see that Y/N placed a plate aside for her.

“I love her pasta,” Rosa says. “My son loves it too…”

“Oh,” I said. Her son? “It’s that good?”

“Yep,” she sighs. “One year he only wanted to eat her pasta, nothing else. Kids huh?”

I nod in agreement and bow to her in goodbye. Silently relieved that it was kid and not some other punk. By the time I got back everyone had started eating without me.

“This is delicious Y/N!” Hobi says and Yoongi nods in agreement. “Best pasta ever!”

She smiles and grabs a plate to serve some shrimp pasta, then she places a roll on the plate as I sit next to her. With a slight blush, she passed me the plate and I felt a little pleased that she served me herself.

“Do you want water or lemonade?” She whispers and I quickly look at her, but she isn’t looking in my direction. “Hm?”

“Water,” I reply and she serves me a cup and hands it to me. Before she could serve herself, I grab the bowl of broccoli pasta out of Namjoon’s hands and put a big portion on the plate. “Here, you like broccoli right?”

“Yes,” She replies with a blush. “Thank you.”

“Here!” Jungkook says, causing us both to jump. “You like lemonade right Noona?”

This little shit.

“Thanks Kookie,” She replies with a smile. There it is again. That smile.

“Do you still like avocado with hawaiian rolls?” I ask and she glances at me in surprise.

“You remembered that?” she asks with an embarrassed smile. “Yea I do.”

“Do you want me to go get some avocado?” I ask and she waves her hand and tries to stop me from getting up. Namjoon tugs me down also.

“It isn’t a competition,” He says and Y/N glances at me in confusion and I smile and gesture for her to eat and she does. “You don’t need to compete when it’s clear you already won.”

I gulp and nod. He’s right, technically I already won. She’s mine. She’s mine right? I look at her and I can’t help the feeling of peace that overtakes my being at seeing her eat. The way she twirls the pasta onto her fork, they way her throat moves as she swallows. On second thought, I think I was feeling everything but peace at this moment.

Jin pulls out a bottle of wine that both Yoongi and Jungkook are excited for. Y/N gulps nervously and I grab her hand under the table and I feel her relax. She then accepts the glass of wine from Jin and sips curiously. Her face scrunches and she shakes her head. I laughed at her expression along with my brothers who were also watching intently. But slowly throughout dinner, her glass of wine was slowly becoming empty and she was laughing along with Jin and Taehyung’s antics. Once more the feeling of peace overcame me. This must be what Jungkook was feeling. The feeling of home.

“Y/N,” Taehyung asks, his cheeks flushed. “Who was your first love?”

A little taken aback by his question, Y/N stammers cutely and looks everywhere but me. Cute.

“Yea,” I say playfully. “Who was your first love?”

“Why do you guys want to know?” I say feeling a slight buzz from the wine. Knowing full well I’m slightly tipsy, these guys are fully taking advantage of my state.

“It’s a simple question!” Taehyung defends himself. “Fine! I’ll tell you who my first love was!”

“Oh this is gonna be interesting,” Jin says with a slight chuckle.

“My first love was a manga character!” Taehyung says and almost everyone laughs “Hey don’t laugh at me! I’m serious!”

“Which manga character?” Jungkook asks.

“Sakura!” Taehyung says cutely. “She was soo cute!”

“Oh my god,” Jimin says. “From Naruto?”

Taehyung then cheers and flashes us his box-like smile. Then he turns to me and gestures for me to go next. If we’re talking manga characters…

“Kazehaya Shouta,” I reply with a content sigh. And almost all of the guys stayed quiet and were confused.

“That’s really specific..” Jimin mutters from next to me. His expression is solemn. “I don’t remember anyone by that name..how about you Jungkook?”

“Neither do I hyung,” Jungkook replies. “Who is this Kazehaya guy Noona?”

“Are you serious?” I asked with a giggle and almost all of them were really confused. Only Namjoon seemed to be deep in thought. “You guys don’t know Kazehaya-kun?”

“OH!” Namjoon says in surprise. “From Kimi Ni Todoke?”

“Yes!” I say excitedly. “I thought we were talking about manga characters so he’s the first that came to my mind!”

“What anime is this?” Taehyung asks in confusion. “A romance one? Cuz I swear I’ve seen all of them!”

“It’s called From Me to You,” I reply. “I watch that anime and read that manga every year and I still love it!”

“So this Kazehaya guy is the main character?” Jimin asks and he looks somewhat relieved but also a tad bit annoyed.

“Yes!” I giggle. “His characteristics were so good, he was so pure..”

“I don’t think Taehyung meant man-” Yoongi laughs.

“Y/n?” Rosa says with a small smile. “I just finished cleaning the rooms, do you mind putting the clothes to dry for me?”

“Of course!” I say getting up quick, only to lose my footing. Jimin reaches over my chair and grabs me by the waist and forces me to sit down.

“I’ll do it,” he says with a small smile. “Thank you Rosa!”

All the others also thank her and Jin walks her out and thanks her for her recipes that she wrote down for him. My phone then pings a message from Kakaotalk and Jimin’s name is on my screen.

Jimin [7:32pm]: hey can we talk?

Jimin [9:04pm]: meet me at the beach in 5.

Jimin [9:04pm]: bring a jacket.

I gulp nervously. Of course he wants to talk, we kissed and everything. I asked about his Mark, and it was clear that he didn’t want to show me, then I remembered Jungkook mentioning the pact but really I was just conflicted about how I felt.

Then I should just tell him how I feel..everything…

The rest of the guys are watching Family Guy in the living room, so I take my chance to dash in my room to find a jacket. Yuki stares at me from my bed that has a fresh set of sheets and comforter. I rub her head and she starts to purr.

“Yuki?” Jungkook calls for her and I hear the bag of treats shake and she quickly darts out of the room. I remembered that Jungkook wanted to teach her some tricks.

“Teach her how to sit!” Taehyung says.

“No,” Namjoon says “how about a handshake?”

And they continue discussing different tricks and this is my chance to dart out but as soon as I step into the kitchen to use the back door, Yoongi and Hobi both appraise me with knowing eyes.

“I thought you guys were watching Family Guy?”

“Jin told us to wash dishes,” Hobi asks with a smirk. “Going somewhere princess?”

“I wonder where Jimin disappeared to?” Yoongi asks Hobi too with amusement in his tone. I rolled my eyes and opened the back door and they both whistled and laughed. Once I’m outside, the ocean breeze is quite cold for the summer, but it feels good. I head to the path that leads to the beach and my phone buzzes, the security app detecting my movement. I duck once I hit the bay windows and I laugh at myself. Why am I hiding?

Because you want to be alone with him

I stop once I realize that is exactly what I wanted. I wanted no interruptions, no Jungkook or Taehyung for that matter. Feeling my heart pound in my chest, I gulp nervously and continue down the sand path towards the beach. There Jimin is once again, shirtless but wearing tattoo sleeve cover and once again I stop in my tracks. I look down at my simple outfit and I start to feel self conscious. How does he look so majestic just standing under the moonlight? It's not fair. I feel like this moment should be preserved. I take out my phone and I take a photo of him...feeling a little guilty for not asking for permission.

“Can I take a picture of you too?” Jimin says, looking over his shoulder with a slight smirk. I feel my face turn white in horror at being caught. “It’s okay I don’t mind.”

“I’m sorry I should have asked first,” I said with a slight blush, hoping that it was too dark for him to notice.

“I guess we’re even,” he says ruffling his hair. “I didn’t quite ask you for permission to kiss you earlier..”

“Oh…” I say lamely.

“I really am sorry…” Jimin says not meeting my eyes. Who do I feel like he wasn’t quite honest about that? “I can’t promise it won’t happen again though…”

“What?” I said in shock. “Jimin-”

“I know you think I’m a player because of the pact and with what happened with Melanie,” Jimin continues. “I’m not going to lie to you that I do have that reputation but-”

“Jimin,” I interrupt him and I step closer. “It’s okay… I don’t care about all that.. I mean I’m not one to judge, I don’t know your circumstances and it’s your life, as long as you're safe and happy..I’m okay with it.”

“But?”

“There’s no but..”

“You walked away from me earlier Y/N,” Jimin sighs, also stepping closer. “There is a but.”

“It’s embarrassing..” I say covering my face. “Because I know you aren’t like that…at least I hope you won’t be like that to me…”

“Like what?” Jimin says grabbing my arms from my face, and pulling my chin to meet his gaze.

“I’m not okay with being another conquest,” I whisper, feeling tears pool in my eyes. I hear his slight gasp and I see his mouth open but I continue. “But I can’t ask you to take me seriously, it wouldn’t be fair to your Soulmate. I don’t have the right...I’m just a childhood friend even if you were my first love..”

“What?”

SHIT

I felt my legs become wobbly but almost as if I was possessed, my voice came out strong.

“You were my first love,” I say meeting his eyes. “I don’t want to be just a summer fling, although everything feels intense with you, I probably wouldn’t be able to say no if that’s what you wanted.”

Jimin stares at my face intensely and I feel my heartbeat through my ears. Why isn’t he saying anything? Was I misreading him? Does he really only just want a physical relationship? Am I emotionally ready for something like that? Let’s be honest though...if that’s what he wanted..all he wanted from me, I would do it even if it would bring me a world of hurt later on..I know I would regret it if I didn’t.

“Okay.” Jimin says with a brilliant smile. “I want to be with you Y/N.”

It was at that moment my legs gave out and I let out a wavering breath, as if I was holding it all day. I probably was. Jimin crouches in front of me and caresses my cheek. It felt like fire followed his ministrations.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask.”

And for the second time that day, our lips met once more and like the waves behind us, they moved in sync, almost as if they were meant to. Hours...days could have passed us but all that mattered was the man clutching my face with tears running down his cheeks.

I knew that one day he would find his Soulmate and it hurts whenever I think of that but I couldn’t let him pass me by. For once in my life, I felt greedy. I wanted this man, all of him even if he isn’t mine.

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#jimin #jimin x reader #my work #reader insert #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #soulmate au #soulmate!au #bts smut #park jimin #jimin smut #namjoon #hoseok x yoongi #jungkook #taehyung #kim seokjin

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late-to-the-sexy-party · 5 years ago

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Half a Pint of Sex

A little AU that takes place during S2 E1. What if Rae didn’t leave after she saw Finn in the shower?

Also posted on AO3.

Thank you as ever to Lil, my beta reader from another mother: you are exacting and wise and very exciting to work with.

@madfatty @burnnmyhearttout @thatfunnygirllauren @hellothisismebye

Rae was in a tizzy as she walked back from the lingerie shop. It was all well and good to bare everything in front of Chloe and Izzy and the baps-expert bra lady, but…ugh…who was she kidding? Even that was horribly uncomfortable. How could she ever do this with Finn? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. “He likes me,” she reminded herself. “He’s already touched my lady bits and he wants to go camping and he knows we’re getting three tents. Relax, idiot! He likes you. He really likes you.” She repeated the affirmation, though suspected this could all change once Finn really saw all of her. But the pep talk and the teal underwear in her shopping bag gave her a surge of confidence or maybe it was just hope. Whatever propelled her, she found herself heading to Finn’s house. Maybe to show him. Maybe not.

Meanwhile, Finn was in his attic, waist-high in boxes and sorting fairy lights from Christmases past. Most of his thoughts were preoccupied by the camping trip and how not to let on that he was preoccupied. Being attentive to Rae was work but the best kind. It felt good to be in this deep, to care this much. Anyway, their first time would not be in a tent, that was not how he’d pictured it, hence ten calls to arrange the surprise caravan and a whole morning in the attic. He was glad she’d been busy earlier because he was crap at making excuses. He was covered in dust from his efforts, but now he just wanted to see her. Fuck it, he was going to go over to hers even if he had to wait around until she got home. He headed to the shower to wash up.

Rae’s feet automatically slowed as she approached Finn’s house; much had changed since the first time she’d walked up to his door. When she was with Finn their chemistry was obvious and magnetic, but when they were apart the whole thing still seemed impossible. If she could get back in the same room with him, the rest should take care of itself. She needed to trust in the strange magic of them. She pushed herself forward with the memory of Finn’s reassuring smile, his promise of “to be continued.” Gary welcomed her inside amidst a haze of Dire Straits. Rae prayed her own straits were not so dire.

Finn’s thoughts were racing in the shower. Was he putting too much pressure on her? He was pretty sure the whole thing had been Rae’s idea. It was a sleepover and she’d asked for three tents. And she had let him touch her the other day in her room, but then Linda had barged in and it just didn’t feel right to continue. He’d run off to footy practice even though he’d planned to skip it. But now it was all he could think about, how ready she’d been for his fingers. The hot water across his shoulders was starting to remind him of that warmth and how it had spread to her wickedly soft inner thighs. He rubbed at his stiffening cock but glanced up to find the door open, and his dad didn’t need to see that. He turned the water a little colder–he would wait until he was in his room to finish that thought.

Rae climbed the stairs with a distracted smirk on her face and heard the water running as she reached the top. Was Finn in the shower? Was he showering with the door open? Who showered with the door open? “Oh,” she thought, as she saw his wet and flawless frame turning away, “people with perfect bodies.” And there it was, the arse she coveted, bare as the day he was born, as peachy as she’d ever imagined.

Suddenly, she was struck with a huge choice: run out of this house straight to the airport and jump on a plane to the North Pole to live in a cave and raise polar bears and never again see a human arse that would remind her of what she couldn’t have OR literally put on her big girl pants and meet her own life head on. Seeing as she’d spent her last pound on the pants, air travel was out of the question. She walked halfway down the stairs and back up three times before finding herself in Finn’s room. The next set of events was a blur, as she ran to the window and yanked the curtain over to block out as much light as possible, raced into her new underwear while holding the door closed and finally dove under his duvet and slid herself all the way to the wall.

Lying in Finn’s bed, Rae was shocked by her own actions, completely out of breath and utterly grateful that Chloe had explained what she meant about preparing for “naked time” with Finn. That morning, Rae had shaved her legs, continuing above her knees which she hadn’t even realized was a thing, and she’d smoothed out her underarms and even tidied up her unruly thatch of pubic hair. As she awaited the inevitable, she tried to make herself as small as possible, but her flesh refused to cooperate and kept falling around her in the most hideous of ways. Every time she angled herself to smooth one area, another rolled up and out, and she was quickly getting itchy and hot in all the places where her skin was rubbing against itself, and this was all a very bad idea, and her head was pounding and she thought she might throw up. Her fevered train of thought came to an abrupt halt as the freshly-bathed scent of Finn Nelson burst across her senses and then he was there in the room, in his boxers and running a towel over his head. He didn’t see her at first, as he was taking in the closed window curtain with mild confusion.

“Don’t be scared it’s just me!” Rae blurted out as she pulled the duvet up to her nose. “Hiya.”

Tracking Rae’s voice, Finn found her wedged in the corner of his bed. Her position was almost comical as if she were trying to disappear into the wall, but this did not diminish the salient fact: Rae was in his bed. She was under his duvet. She was hiding something, possibly nakedness. His body was reacting faster than his mind and he quickly moved the towel down to hide his excitement. He was turned on; he was touched, and he was stunned by the boldness of her gesture. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could see that she was terrified.

“What are ya doing under there, girl?” He asked in a tone he hoped was both non-threatening and affectionate.

“Oh nothin’,” Rae responded. “Just thought I’d make sure you had sheets under here.”

“Oh, and do I?” Finn couldn’t help but flirt as he moved slowly towards the bed. He was still having trouble processing what was happening, but whatever it was, was very good.

“Yes, comfy sheets.”

“They’re comfy, eh?” Finn was fully loving the dynamic now. He felt a little bad for torturing her like this, but he knew this would all work out even if she didn’t seem to. “Can you feel them especially, ‘cause maybe you’re not wearin’ anything?”

“Oh, I’m wearin’ something…some…things…” Rae was biting her lip, rolling her eyes and blushing to her toes.

Finn was standing right up against the bed now. His curiosity was beyond piqued, but he knew Rae was regretting her actions and he needed to get her back on board. He was always most confident expressing himself from his arsenal of smiles, and he carefully chose one for her that conveyed sympathy, encouragement and understated joy. When he saw the muscles around her eyes relax, he spoke, “I’m really glad you’re here.” Then even more gently, he added, “Would it be okay if I joined you under there?”

Rae nodded, and Finn slipped cautiously onto the bed, keeping a respectful distance and his eyes on her face.

“So, what are these… things…you’re wearing?”

Rae huffed and rolled her eyes, “Chloe took us to a lingerie shop and I wound up buyin’ this stuff. But they’re totally impractical and I don’t think they look good on me. And I mean, I’m not even sure if you like my boobs, because they’re too large and they’re not made for lacy-”

“Rae…Rae!” Finn was struggling to get Rae’s attention and she finally stopped babbling long enough to look at him. “Do you not know how I feel about your boobs? Guess you hadn’t noticed me looking at them all the time when we first met? Archie and Chop had to tell me to stop!”

“Nah… I hadn’t…” Rae attempted a nanosecond of mental acrobatics, trying to immediately recall all the times this could have happened. It was new information and she couldn’t help but smile and then laugh, “Chop had to stop you?! But Chop looks at them all the time!”

“Yeah…” Finn winced “Now he says if I get to touch’em, then he should at least be able to look at’em.” He scrunched his face and waited for her to punch him.

“What?! Oh thanks for that! Really defending my honor, eh?” The banter was so normal, that for a minute, Rae forgot they were in a bed and half naked. “You know Chop needs to watch himself or Izzy’s going to get seriously insecure. I know she already feels—"

Suddenly Finn was kissing her–his version of oral sparring was not really fair, because he always won.

Finn was glad she was back to form, because he was addicted to transforming loud opinionated Rae into quiet, yielding Rae. Kissing her was like unlocking so much sweetness, and it was all for him.

When she stilled, he spoke quietly, “Anyway, I told Chop, that was bullshit and he had to stop.” Finn continued with a playful pout, “But can we not talk about Chop anymore? Besides…I haven’t really touched them… not really…”

Rae was pleasantly transfixed by the recent kiss and his current gaze. This back and forth between humor and seriousness, teasing and affection, of her knowing him and his knowing her was the alchemy she needed. She bit her bottom lip as she slowly lowered the duvet to her waist, revealing all the cream and teal she’d been hiding. Finn gasped and stared, and Rae felt like she was on fire. His hand instinctively reached out to touch her, but he stopped himself.

“Can I?” His breath hitched on the words and Rae felt a sense of control that she had never known. She could feel how truly sexy she was in that moment with her hair flowing around her face and her lips parted. She looked at him from beneath her lashes and knew how completely she had him. All of time seemed to slow down in that astonishing moment.

When Rae finally spoke, “Yeah,” was all she said. He reached towards her hesitantly and ran his finger along the top of her shallow bra cup, tracing the entire seam where it met the soft flesh of her right breast. Finn’s eyes were on hers, as he slid his finger below the edge, lowering it inch by inch until her whole breast spilled out. They held each other’s eyes with half shock and open mouths. Gradually his eyes lowered to take her in, the fullness, the large dark areola, the perfectly protruding nipple; the sight drew his tongue forward. Then, just as slowly, Finn freed her from the left cup and felt woozy with the vision that lay before him.

Rae smiled as she watched Finn’s reaction and relaxed into this new sensation of feeling like the best thing he’d ever seen.

“They look so good, Rae…” Finn was nearly stuttering, “better than I imagined.”

Finn was consumed with looking, just feeling her with his eyes for a full minute before finally sweeping his fingers around the outside curves of her and his thumbs against her nipples. He kissed her then, pressing his whole body into her, knowing she could feel him hard against her leg.

It all turned hot and heavy quickly as they licked and sucked at each other’s lips and tongues. They were grinding against each other’s thighs and her hands were grasping at his hair and his hands were full of her breasts. Things were escalating and their hearts were racing, when Rae put her hand between them and pushed him back.

“Are you okay?” he panted, concern registering in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she panted back. “So, so good… I just don’t think I’m… ready…”

“Oh, Rae,” Finn smiled. “We don’t have to…there’s so many other things we can do… I mean…if you want to…”

“Yeah…I want to…” Rae smiled, and Finn remembered she had her own arsenal, and this was the one–so wide and genuine and beautiful–that lit up his heart.

“Honestly,” he added, “I’m just chuffed to see you in your underwear.”

“You really like it?” She asked, pretending the question was not rhetorical.

“Yeah, I really like it,” he answered, as if she didn’t know what an understatement that was.

“Do you think your dad might…?

“Nah.. not if my door’s closed.”

“So he’s not makin’ hot pot or anything? Maybe needs some ingredients?”

“He won’t bother us,” Finn grinned as he spoke. “He knows you’re up here. And he totally loves you.”

Rae smiled to herself wondering how many Nelsons might love her. Finn shifted out of the bed to put on some music.

Rae teased him, “Oh, let me guess…”

“Oi!” Finn shot back, “I’ve been waiting for this. You can’t deny me it.” He pulled out his album of decidedly not crap reggae and lowered the needle. “Plus now my dad will really know to stay away.”

As she watched him return to bed, bopping his head suggestively to the music, Rae giggled and felt her whole body melt and tingle in anticipation. “So, where were we, girl?” Finn asked as he crawled in next to her. He looked into her eyes and ran his fingers through her hair, and Rae was very happy to remind him.

#mmfd fanfic #mmfd #rae earl #finn nelson #finn and rae #rae and finn #my mad fat diary

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iam-kenough · 4 years ago

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Will you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them.

Authors notes: It’s another chapter and you can find the rest of chapter on my blog if you want to read more of my fanfiction. I decided to post all parts I have at once so the fic could catch more attention.

Word count: 1576 Chapter 4 - Arthur...Mr Morgan. I can't...I can't hide what I think anymore. So I'm gonna tell it, once, but I make you sure once is gonna be too much anyway. - I'm gonna listen to ya whatever you wanna say - his brows furrowed at her words and he sat next to her. Iris raised her head, showing red frame around deeply green eyes. She bit her lip as her hands was fidgetting on the wet tissue. And then she leaned in, placing gentle kiss on his lips, making him jump up as he opened his emerald eyes in surprise. Iris's lips were soft, little bit wet and salty from tears and she smelled like honey and flowers and her hair was soft too, tickling his face. Then he pushed her away, waking up from weird sensation that started devouring him. Iris wasn't surprised, when Arthur's strong hands pushed her away, touching her naked arms. She did what his actions were asking for. She smiled at him sadly and putting lock of hair behind her ear. - Listen, um - he began - I don't know what to say except fact I ain't expecting that...- Arthur scratched his chin. - No, don't say anything. I...I know what you think about it. Discovered weeks ago when I heard you talking with Hosea. - It's really nice but I ain't man to meddle with your heart after a heartbreak. I'm not even good friend for you. Not good enough - he stuttered, searching for any right words - Whoever hurt you today isn't worth you doing things you would normally regret. - Aren't you the most oblivious person I know, Arthur Morgan - she got up quickly, losing her temper. She pressed cold bottle of bear to her temple and collected her thoughts. He didn't understand, not at all. Oblivious? - No one broke my heart - she said finally - and I thought it's gonna be clear once I kiss you. - No one broke your heart, eh? Then what was it all about? You were sulking for weeks and now you kiss me, you crazy woman like I would mean anything in all that. - Y-you mean a lot, you blind fool! But you don't get it at all! No one ever was with me, Arthur! First time you asked me what was wrong I-I couldn't tell you for real that I love you since the day I saw you because I just heard what you told Hosea! You are the friend who doesn't see me the way I see him, you! And I didn't want to talk with you about it, especially when you and Mary started to get along with each other...You kissed her today, I saw you. And I decided to never tell you anything but I'm drunk and you pushed me! She was shaking, looking directly into Arthur's eyes. That's it, this is the end. Arthur opened his eyes in shock and surprise and he wanted to say anything but he couldn't so he was catching air like fish without water. - I said it will wreck my friendship with this person - she whispered weakly, looking at him. -I don't know what to say, kid... - Don't call me like that! - she bursted out. Her eyes was glossy again. - You don't have to be more obvious, really - she continued - I got it when you told Hosea I'm just a kid who likes your company. But don't call me that, not now, when I try confess to you - tears flushed on her cheeks. - I am sorry...- was all Arthur could say - I told you I ain't no good with words and I-I am really sorry this turned away like that. - You sorry - she whispered, looking at her feet - So...you reject me? - I ain't no match for you, that's sure - he reached out for her to at least cuddle her and make her more calm but she made a step back and shaked her head with agreement. - I get it. It's me who should be sorry for putting you in situation like this, Mr Morgan. Thanks for listening to me, though. It means a lot that you did. She turned around and ran away from him, leaving him with thoughts about her. When Mary-Beth noticed her she knew something was off immidiately although she didn't manage to ask, because Iris grabbed another beer, downed it and crashed bottle on the floor. - What ya think you doin' ya crazy? - Micah look at her with disgust. The same way he was looking from the start. - And how does it look, ya moron? I'm breaking the glass and getting drunk. - Ya won't speak towards me this way! - Make me - she almost whispered, rolling up her sleeves. And then it happened. Micah jumped on her, completely ignoring any curtesy about not beating woman up. He tried to grab Iris's throat but she dodged. She was small, really small and she planned to use that as a weapon. Everyone around fire started yelling and laughing. If Micah's attempt to hurt Iris would be succesful Dutch or John would probably stop him, but it was almost like watching wild bull dancing a ballet with a cat. So instead of tearing Micah and Iris apart, they were waching. He tried to grab her, but he couldn't, alcohol and anger giving her swiftness. Every punch he directed towards her was hitting only air. And then she snapped. Iris grabbed Micah by his collar and knocked him out with her head hitting his nose. ''Ooooh!'' said everybody, tone of voice different according to every person. - You'll wish you were dead when I'll got you - man said, removing blood from his face with sleeve. - If you will got me - she laughed at him - All you do is those weird attempts, clumsy boy! - You are the worst nightmare I ever saw, no wonder no one consider you woman! - Oh, shut it - it was probably the beer, probably the anger and deep sadness, but mostly fact he was right that made her grab a chair and break it on Micah's heard. Poor bastard were out. Iris dropped a piece of chair on the floor, took a deep breath and said: - Bless him and his soul, thank you very much. And with that words she turned around and walked away.It was late night when she heard Arthur entering his half of tent. He breathed heavy and she could see his silhouette on piece of cloth that was spliting those two tents as he undressed himself. She looked into small mirror wondering why she was born ugly and not loved. But it was all clear between them two now, wasn't it. Everyone disappeared in their tents and the only light there was was Arthur's oil lamp. Iris assumed he had fallen asleep, she heard Arthur's snoring. She got up and jumped above trunks to get to his half, almost tripping on this cloth hanging inbetween. He was sleeping, drunk and calm, his face seemed so nice now. He...looked kind like someone, who you could call home. But she couldn't. He and Dutch saved her few months ago and it was time to become something on her own, without help of girls or Dutch. Iris went and packed all she had and threw it on one of horses, the one she was usually using. She was feeling bad about stealing it but she promised herself she will put it back, someday, on night like this, even if they gonna move their camp. She also decided not to steal the tent she was using. She entered Arthur's tent again. She noticed him having goosebumps so she covered him with some blanket and was standing there, looking at him. She noticed his journal and she picked it up. First thought there was to read it but it wouldn't be right. Iris didn't need to know what's inside Arthur's head, she knew already. I don't know what to say, kid. She borrowed a piece of paper from journal and a pencil and she begin to write. She writed long letter but it wasn't meant for Arthur. It was letter for Dutch, explaining him that she's going and thanking him for all he's done for her. She also apologised for stealing one of his horses and the fact he and Molly was apart, she wrote that she wished them all the best, no matter what. And then she borrowed another piece of paper. But it wasn't a letter any sort, just small text. I'm sorry and thank you - it said - you are really good friend, no matter what you think about yourself. You are not stupid, ugly or old either. I need to go now, maybe we gonna meet someday again. Goodbye and sorry again. I.R. Night was warm and nice, when she was wondering on her horse, now far enough from camp. It's the way it should be, she said to herself, you knew it's gonna go down, didn't you. Crickets were singing their songs and she smiled faintly. She was thinking about his eyes. And she felt ashamed, all those months she spent with everyone in the camp was mainly for Arthur and Mary-Beth. Now she remided herself she didn't write anything for Mary-Beth, but she knew Dutch will tell everyone anyway. ''I ain't no match for you, that's sure''

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #smutt #fluff #angst

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ufonaut · 4 years ago

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Icemaster/Sportcicle prompt: Larry’s POV: Larry cares, at least a little... not that Jordan would believe it. An attempt to steer Jordan into a healthier mindset is rebuffed. Maybe post-Brainwave in coma, or immediately before or after the season 2 finale?

immediately after brainwave’s coma/wizard’s death. based heavily around this neil jackson interview

---

It’s the mention of ice that has Larry glued to the TV until midnight, enduring Denise Zarick’s tears and Sharpe’s stumbling statement on behalf of the American Dream with a decisive sort of bored indifference. It’s only a step above mindless channel surfing, a habit Larry’s never had and isn’t about to fall into now. Still, a fighting little thought compels him. They’d said, somewhere between all the whining about Councilman Zarick, that little Joey had slid on ice when he’d been hit head-first. A slip of the tongue, maybe, but Larry’s heard of weirder things than snowstorms in September and he knows a certain someone’s expected into town.

By the time Larry crawls into bed and wraps an arm around Paula, he’s convinced himself of the obvious. “Pretty sure Jordan killed Wizard,” he mumbles into Paula’s shoulder and gets a kick for his trouble.

---

With the ISA, it’s often been a matter of novelty. Larry’s dedicated the vast majority of his time to the pursuit of seeing how it all plays out and he’s yet to regret it, even if he ends up speeding through his morning routine and runs a couple red lights on the way to drop off Artemis at school. He’s excited. There’s no other way to put it.

Henry’s out of the game for the foreseeable future and while Larry’s not about to pack up and take off at the first sign of disaster, he’s got an inkling of what it might mean for Jordan. For the plan, too. It’s nothing good. The inevitable carnage strikes him as invigorating. Beyond that, it’s been a little too long since Jordan’s graced Blue Valley with his presence and Larry has grown very nearly enamoured with the notion of his nonsensical plan, the way he seems intent on moving past impossibility on the stupidity of hope alone.

It’s adorable.

In Larry’s world, Jordan’s idealism ranks somewhere between kittens and the picture of Artemis, aged three and dressed like Jason Voorhees, he keeps in his wallet.

The drive to the Mahkent house drags on like never before, though the town’s frustratingly small and easily traversed blind. It’s not the enthusiasm of a hunt but it’s close enough to count, thoughts of Zarick’s death at the hands of a man Larry’s never once known to lash out swirling around his mind. Jordan is not a puzzle to be solved nor full of surprises but, every now and again, he manages to impress.

Larry parks in the middle of the driveway, almost certainly blocks any approaching or departing cars and, past awkward greetings exchanged with Jordan’s parents, takes the stairs two at a time. Blue Valley, located in the vicinity of nothing and nowhere, presents few means of entertainment. It’s only right to seize whatever opportunity comes his way, Larry’s even willing to settle for a second-hand look at all the gory details. Wizard has barely been considered a colleague, let alone a friend, and with nothing to mourn, Larry likes to think he’s opting for the next best thing.

Ultimately, there’s no need to hurry.

Jordan’s bedroom is a dismal affair that carries the distinct impression of having walked into a darkened freezer to the bitter end. The minute he steps in, Larry’s greeted by the sight of his own breath in the chilled air.

“Hey there, bud,” he says, bright because he’s capable of little else, as he slams the door shut hard enough to knock some ice off. It’s hardly his intention, unaided by the cold. Somewhere underneath the frozen covers, Jordan stirs in bed. He’s perplexingly normal, a little worse for wear than Larry’s last seen him and passably in need of a shave but-- not tinted blue, for a start. “What, it just starts snowing when you’re moping around?”

For the longest time, Jordan seems to consider that. He makes a deceptively pretty picture in the midst of this snow-angel spectacle. “You didn’t call,” he decides, at last, hoarse with disuse.

In hindsight, the thought should’ve occurred to Larry much sooner. Jordan gets like this, disappears into the vacuum of a hole that’s been gnawing at him for nearly a decade now when he forgets to stitch his life together the best way he knows how. It’s guilt or remorse or a sadness that’s never been familiar to Larry. For convenience’s sake, it’s easier to wrench him out than see it through. Larry wouldn’t call it a great concern of his but he wouldn’t be running Ripped City if he didn’t harbour some passion for seeing people improve. He’d like that for Jordan, he thinks.

“Aw, Icy, I’m real sorry,” Larry says and clears a space for himself in the snow, sits close to where Jordan’s peeking at him owlishly from his frosty cocoon of tangled bedsheets, “we all just thought it’d be for the best if Sharpe broke the news. Y’know, so he could book you a plane ticket on the spot an’ all that. You wanted to come home right away, didn’tcha?”

Jordan nods, only slightly hesitant, and Larry takes it as permission to brush a hand through his hair. The cold mellows out.

“Listen, sure, Brainy’s out of commission just now but it doesn’t mean he’s gonna stay that way! You think a bump on the ol’ noggin is gonna take him out? C’mon, he’ll be back to annoying us in no time.” Larry chuckles and nearly believes it himself, though his grin’s all real at Jordan’s wet little laugh.

He props up a pillow and settles back, fingers still carding absently through Jordan’s hair. Larry hasn’t forgotten what he came here for, as much as it’s taken a backseat to the abrupt despair Jordan’s sunk into. “Hey, what’s the deal with Wizard anyway?” Maybe it’s the timing that’s all wrong, though Larry likes to think he always gets it right. Jordan stiffens and makes to turn, stopped only by the grip Larry’s got on him.

Eventually, he relents.

“I didn’t want-- I can’t lose Henry, Crusher, not after--” Christine. It goes unspoken. Jordan’s breathing picks up like he’s fighting through an abrupt sense of panic. He pushes through it all the same. “The plan wouldn’t work without him. If William isn’t-- wasn’t with us, then he was against us. Sacrifices had to be made for the mission, he was-- he had his wand pointed at me, I-- I had to do what’s right.”

Larry wants to laugh. Almost does, really. Jordan’s spiel must’ve been rehearsed a thousand times before, justifications upon justifications because he’s never quite learned not to let it get to him, because Zarick was a friend to him, because-- he’s himself.

“Sure you did, champ,” he says, just nice enough.

On days like these, Larry’s all action. Not that it differs much from the norm. He takes a moment to pad into the en-suite bathroom and get the shower running. “Alright, Icy, here’s the deal,” he calls out from the bathroom, making sure the water’s all nice and hot, “I’m gonna get you ready for the day and you’re gonna put up with it. How’s that sound?”

“Crusher, you don’t have to--”

“Nah, I think I do.” Larry smiles and, as he makes it back to where Jordan’s sat up in bed, he offers a hand. There’s always a sense of accomplishment in the face of progress, be it out in the field or at the gym. “You just gotta shower and I’ll take care of the rest, bud. Hell, I’ll even dress you up, if ya need it.”

Something tells him it might just come to that.

He does yank Jordan out of bed then, a firm grip and enthusiasm to match. “C’mon, bud, you got this!” Larry says and slaps Jordan’s ass as he pushes him into the bathroom.

It’s a start, if nothing else.

#SPORTCICLE #JORDAN MAHKENT #LARRY CROCK #SPORTSMASTER #STARGIRL #FIC #I REALLY HOPE THIS ISNT OOC #anon #ask

4 notes · View notes