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rivka-kopelman · 1 year ago

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Delivery Lemur Logbook : 14-B

January 1st, 3432

New Year's Day

Mocha?

Hot blue death sparkled in the night above. My jaw slackened. Lopcorn let Welker slide onto the ground.

“Miss Menosky,” I breathed. She can't be gone. My scalp tingles. Tears are blurry in my eyes; I rub them and watch the faraway lights blinking out. I stare hard at them. Every little pop is a massacre.

I really only care about my friend. Somewhere in that

Lopcorn was squinting, shocked and impatient. “What the hell is going on?”

“Oh wowza,” gasped Plum, gazing up in awe, as though at a fireworks show.

“Safe... Oh, finally...” the murderer was saying.

“What did you do? What did you do?” I'm screaming. I land on Welker and grab his head and scream right in his face. “What did you do? Why did you do that?”

He's serene, he's in bliss, he looks so relieved.

His demons will never get anyone else.

Lopcorn pulls me off him and holds me.

“What is going on? Text me. Type it out for me.”

I wipe my eyes and my nose. I take my phone out but I can't hold it steadily enough to type anything. The baby starts bawling and Plum tries to soothe it.

It could just be that, couldn't it?

I run away.

“Where are--?”

Lopcorn follows me.

It doesn't take a minute.

~Lemur~

Oh!

~Leeemur?~

I'm here, are you okay? Where are you, Miss? There's... a genocide happening, you have to get far away from the sanctuary

Lemur ~ What did the normies do?

Her voice is so tiny! She's so shrunken! It breaks my heart! It's so wrong! It's very wrong! Mocha is broken!

Why did they do this?

She feels my fear, and she opens her eyes to mine. She's at the conservatory; A tiny structure orbiting Febris. it wasn't hit.

It's a miracle, Miss Menosky

It's ~ murder. We were ~ only living ~ we didn't do anything

Like looking through a telescope, the feelings zoom in on me, and I perceive the grief, the sheer cold

Intellectually I know there are pockets of the psy population living outside the sanctuary or on ships and ZUD stations who must have survived, but 95% or more of her people were just culled.

She knows what I know

I was ~ listening to music ~ now, I don't know how it goes ~ the song is over

We can come get you. We'll be safe together. We can find the survivors. The perpetrator's been caught, and

Let's see ~ how the normies like it. Just ~ stop breathing ~ you monsters

Lopcorn coughed. He swayed and fell over, rubbing his neck around his throat. It was Mocha.

I knew it was the whole city, and beyond, and beyond, and beyond. She's in my mind and I feel her reaching out, inconsolable, insensible.

Stop breathing. Stop breathing.

It's everybody in the world

She's strangling everyone. The birds in the trees, snakes and fish and hens and old dogs and every horse, every lion, the humans, bats, cats, everybody. At home, asleep, and in the streets, and in the floating cities. All around me and tucked into aloof corners, everywhere in the distance, floating on rocks, every member of the out-of-sight far-flung universe-spanning society. She's suffocating them with pure pain, she's in their heads, cutting off the will to live. She's killing everybody she possibly can.

Not you

Stop that! Don't hurt my mom and dad! What are you thinking? Stop!

Everywhere in the 8 Galaxies they're dropping dead. Ships with strangled pilots crash into asteroids and into each other. Families slump over at the dinner table.

Numb fury is burning out the light of civilization, but I am untouched. Mocha wants to end the world

Lopcorn is fading. His face shows pure confusion. It's the most pitiful thing. I can only hold him.

Mocha stop right now! Look through my eyes and see! Look at what you're doing to him!

If only they left us alone ~ but they're too cruel ~ If only it was just us ~ I'll make us safe

You're cruel! You're worse! You have to stop!

No one stopped Welker

So kill him!

I can't find him ~ but you can

My head turns (against my will). A hundred meters back over the rubble, I saw Plum first and the others with her.

My arms let go of Lopcorn and my legs carry me back. I pick up a heavy chunk of concrete.

Kill them

Kill~

Her presence is scrubbed away. Sindla Syndrome. I'm near enough to the infant to be protected. I drop the concrete slab. What the hell?

Franz is there, leaning on Plum who's cradling the baby.

The Zag IX census; did Welker know there was a psy that could do this? Was he right all along?

Shit, I've got to get Lopcorn over here. Then he'll be able to breathe.

I turn back. A step later and she has me again. Oh this is too much.

I'll need a good sharp stone, of course. With a good sharp stone I'll be safe / by killing them

I'm bedbugs. I'm that knife you're always thinking about (the end). I'm battery acid. I'm sunstroke, I'm your subdural hematoma. I'm dark gelatin caking the folds of your grey matter, caking it fatally, shiny slime congealing into opaque greasy dead blood in your living skull. You know I'm going to get you.

Kill

Yes, I'm the life-ending thing. That's it for you!

There's a little oxygen left in the red freeway tied around your vital organs. (drooling)(disgusting mouth)(shut up) There's a dwindling little bit of self that blows away like dust / she sees you and shes sweeping it up. You better avert your tiny bug eyes, hang your head, suffocate, stop your life, go to bed for today, so, even though I never realized it before, I'm the grim reaper, even though I like kindness and tried to fill my life with light, I'm really the killer.

(The scars won't matter if you actually do it)(stupid coward)(ugly coward)(you know you're actually worthless)(you know)

dont think about anything, just die, and go to bed, and burn in hell. This is just what you do, so get it over with already. Eat your own lips, I'm telling you

I turned back into myself. I dropped a long shard of glass. Plum and even Welker were gaping at me in terror. She's yelling something.

“Listen,” I pant. “There's a disaster going on. It's revenge. You killed the psys. Let me take that kid, just so I can go get Lopcorn, he can't breathe.”

“Never,” Welker vowed, quaking. “Plum, Don't let go of Nikolai.”

Plum held the baby close.

“Oh you bastards. Okay, I'll just carry him.”

I hurry back to where Lopcorn is motionless on the ground.

But now

I'm death.

I can't dance back and forth like this, get out of my head! Get out of my head!

I need to drag Welker away from his protectors. I'll fling him from the rooftop.

Lop's not moving. It's too late anyway.

Get out of my head. Give me back. You're disgusting. I wish I never met you, I wish I never heard your voice. I wish I could be someone that never knew you. You're the worst person I ever met. Leave me alone. You're a freak. Freak!

I bolt. My legs are mine again and I'm gone. Don't care where. The city's dead and so is the world.

The sky is dirty and oppressive. There's nothing but dead bodies up there now. The glittering sky is only a revolving graveyard now.

ghost towns rot away,

brick buildings full of skeletons, row upon row, town upon town, world upon world, star after star, forever dead.

There's no one to light it up again.

Roving over the debris of the battle, I see a tilted tower that half-collapsed into the pediment of Lugdunum's senate dome. I climb up and up through slanting stairwells. The highest storeys were mushed under the mostly-caved-in roof. From here I can see just how much of the city's superstructure had fractured off and been lost to the fog and gravity.

The tower shifted. I kept my balance. The last bit of standing wall supporting a section of the roof gave way. As the hunk of concrete dropped and rumbled down the gap between buildings, a bundle of braided steel cable connecting it to the crossbeam under me was snapping a strand at a time under the weight. When the last wire split, it sounded like a whip-crack.

I fell over for some reason.

I stand back up. actually I don't. I try to get up and I cant do it right. I laugh at how clumsy I am.

How hopeless!

ah I'm bleeding. it's my tail. my tail is gone.

cut off.

my beautiful tail?

Nahh

it's so cute. its fluffy, and, and, and my mom used to count the stripes with me when I was growing up, and even though I'm grown up now, i hope she'll count them again when I come home

so you can't take it away I have to find it

I go somewhere, I go real quick. I'm bumping into stuff. Ahah! This is too much today

I run for what feels like 40 miles. But it's not that far.

I think there's nowhere to actually go

Don't know where I am or what I'm doing.

Well, I can't run any more

I'm so tired

I just can't keep doing this

I want to eat something and have a hot drink.

I sit. And that's it.

The dome up above is bowing in on itself. The crushed foundation can't hold it up.

It's cracking. It's gonna flatten me.

I can't walk another step. My life depends on it, but I really can't.

If I had another chance I'd be better. I don't know why I could never muster the little bit of focus it would take to tackle my responsibilities. I don't know why I act so dumb. Maybe I could have been better.

I wish I tried. I should have tried while I still could.

I want to do stuff. I still want to fly. If I could just fly away from here, I'd start doing everything right.

I'm not getting out, though. The ceiling is going to land on me in a minute and turn me into a pancake.

If I could just pause and gather my thoughts, I think I'd feel better. Or if I could eat something.

I check my pockets. Got nothing.

I wish the ceiling would just fall and give me a quick end.

Oh. I don't mean that at all. I don't want to die.

I try to stand but I can't even wiggle. I must have lost tons of blood. I think about my poor tail, lost somewhere, probably getting full of dirt. I'll never see it again. Or my ship or my beanbag chair, my toothbrush

Lemur ~ may I whisper with you now

It doesn't matter. Uh, I mean, I don't mind.

She thinks of holding my hand and I feel hers there.

I'm so sorry ~ for everything

I know. Miss Menosky? Miss? I'm about to die.

Lemur ~ You are the only one who ever made me feel safe. My dearest ~ is there any dream you want to see now? I can show you something if you want ~ anything

The obvious first impulse is for Lopcorn and my parents, and the world given back. Renewal. And your sweet face. But that makes my heart ache.

Show me something nice please. I don't know.

The dome came down. I had a vision. Before the ceiling touched me, it turned into the viewport. My control board lit up. Reactor's hot and ready to go.

There's my starry open road. I press the

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gingersnaaps · 4 years ago

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untouchable

keishin just can't stand the thought of anyone else being your first.

wc: ~2.5k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, alcohol, corruption of innocence, virgin!reader, mild misogyny, possessive ukai, masturbation, fingering, teasing, friends to lovers but fucked up, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @seita and their collab! also i probably fucked up the characterization but oh well

i don't want minors interacting with my content

To Keishin, you’ve always been untouchable.

He’d grown up alongside you - seen you go from your pretty pigtails to your grown-up bob, watched you turn from a schoolgirl into a woman. And through all those years, he’d always thought you were beautiful in the way that spring flowers are, all soft and sweet and dewy, your expression dripping innocence.

You’re pure. Unblemished. Perfect.

But that doesn’t mean he’s never admired from afar.

He almost hates it, these urges he gets. Keishin sees your stupid Instagram posts, your Facebook updates - in fact, he’s practically inundated with photos of you. He can’t escape the pictures of you in your summer skirts, grinning cheekily and holding up a peace sign, or the ones of you in your sundresses, the fabric lightweight and loose, cascading over your body in ripples.

And sometimes, after spending a few hours with you in person - maybe at a concert, maybe just catching up with you as friends - these urges he gets are too much for him to control, too much for just a cold shower to tamp down. He’ll lay his head back against his pillow, groaning in relief as he palms him cock, guilt gnawing him raw as he strokes himself to thoughts of the soft swell of your breasts, the barest brush of your hand - every exposed bit of your skin that he can conjure from his memory.

He always gets this empty feeling in the pit of his stomach after.

Keishin will reprimand himself, muttering about how creepy it is, how wrong it feels, how he’ll never do it again, but soon enough, he’s seeing your pictures all over his feed again, and you’re inviting him to some new outing.

He knows it’s not right, but he can’t really stop himself, either.

So when you call him up just days later, giggling and chatting his ear off about some new amazing discount at this local bar - look, Keishin, I promise it’s not far - going on and on about how he should join you in celebrating your latest raise at work, a wave of nausea sweeps over him. He should say no. He should make up some vague excuse, awkwardly laughing, brushing off your invitation while promising to make it up to you.

But it’s just been so long since he’s seen you.

He clears his throat, and his voice comes out dry and a little unsure on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah - I can go. See you there, [y/n], okay? Take care.”

Keishin hangs up the phone with a click before you even get a chance to respond, his hand unsteady and trembling.

He gets there before you do.

His fingers drum nervously against the tabletops, eyes scanning above the sea of overdressed, garish bargoers, looking around for any sign of you. It’s hard to make out faces among the crowd, all finer features clouded by the smoke and mirrors that dim lighting creates, but he’s looked at you enough times to be able to tell you apart with his eyes closed.

“Hey,” your voice greets, pressed close to his left side. “Never been to a bar before or what? Just relax, Keishin. We’re here to have a good time, right?”

He startles at your sudden appearance, flinching slightly. “Right,” he responds, a smile tugging at his lips.

He beckons the bartender over, ordering a few drinks, and you get settled into a routine of easy conversation. It doesn’t take long for you to get woozy, alcohol flooding your system as your cheeks flush and vision blurs. It loosens your tongue, loosens your wallet, and before long, you start losing track of the time of the drinks you order. All you know is that it feels good to let go, to lose yourself in the light-headed headspace you’ve found yourself in, the kaleidoscope of people around you dissolving until indistinguishable, walling off the rest of the world from just the two of you.

If Keishin’s going to be completely honest, though, he’s not really paying attention to what you're saying.

He’s paying attention to the men around you.

Maybe he’s just being paranoid, but he could swear that half the bar is leering at you, eyes following every movement of your body in ways that are absolutely unacceptable. He’s not an idiot. He knows what those other guys are thinking about; he knows how their dicks are straining in their fucking pants, how their thoughts must be wandering, he knows because he’s been there before.

Because even in the middle of a bar, surrounded by debauchery and alcohol and sluts, you look absolutely angelic. The halo of hair around your head looks so, so soft - he wants to stroke it, kiss it, use it as a handle to maneuver you around for him - and suddenly he’s consumed by thoughts of how much he wants to be the one to force you down around his cock, choking and sobbing, how much he wants to smear his cum on your gorgeous face and ruin you before anyone else can get to it. He can’t tear his gaze away from you as you shift closer, wobbling on your stool, completely oblivious to the way everyone else’s eyes are undressing you.

He knows you’re not doing this on purpose. You can’t be, no matter how many times you wiggle your ass on the bar stool, no matter how far up your thigh the hem of your skirt rides up. You wouldn’t tempt others like that. You’re just not that type of girl - you’re innocent, so open and guileless - you would never.

Keishin isn’t going to let anyone else fuck that up for him.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before some sleazy man comes along, his hands groping at your body, mouth whispering sinful words into your ear, and the mere thought makes him shudder with revulsion.

No, if anyone is going to wreck you, it’s going to be him.

When you eventually get too drunk, words slurring and half delirious, he catches you in his arms and leads you stumbling back to his own car. He revels in how peaceful you look with your eyes lidded with fatigue, clinging onto his arm as he drives back to his apartment.

He takes you inside with him.

“K-Keishin..” you mutter. “Where are we?”

He shushes you softly, carrying you to his off-white bedroom of popcorn ceilings and peeling wallpaper, of warm lights dimmed low and an eerie silence that suspends your surroundings in stillness. Laying you down on his half-made bed, he tenderly brushes aside the hair that frames your face as he crawls on top of you.

“I’m taking care of you, baby.”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion at his pet name, but your mind is still too woozy to fully comprehend the meaning behind his words.

But even a drunk girl like you knows that something’s not right when warm, calloused fingertips reach beneath your skirt and slip under the hem of your panties. You instinctively flinch away from his touch, trying to close your legs back up, but he brings a knee up between your thighs to rest at your cunt.

“Please,” you whisper, sobered from the rush of dread that runs tingling down your spine. “Please, Keishin. We’re friends.”

He ignores you, pressing down on your cunt until you’re squirming beneath him, his gaze softening as your breath hitches with desperation. “You don’t have to worry. I’m gonna make this virgin cunt feel so good,” he breathes. “Gonna show you just what real sex is supposed to feel like.”

He presses his lips to yours, his kiss gentle yet insistent, lips and wet tongue probing your mouth as if he’s trying to pry you apart and open you up. You can taste the alcohol on his hot breath, puffing lightly along your jaw as he trails his mouth further down, dragging his kisses sloppily down the crook of neck to where it meets your collarbone.

You tell yourself that it’s gross, that it’s overwhelming, but it’s impossible to hide the way your clit throbs against him as he flicks his tongue out to tease at your sensitive nipples, a moan almost involuntarily slipping from your lips. His mouth curls into a playful grin, teeth scraping roughly against your tits, and brings up the palm of his hand to cup your pussy.

“See?” he says. “This feels good.”

You cringe at his words, desperately bucking away from his touch, but there’s nowhere left for you to go - one arm cages in your small, frail body, the other strokes at your clit through the fabric of your panties, his mouth is sucking and nipping at the soft flesh of your tits - he’s everywhere, drawing patterns across your skin with lips and tongue, tracing feather-light circles on your pussy until you feel that desire in your cunt pulsing with need. “No,” you whimper quietly, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. “No, it doesn’t.”

Keishin ignores your weak protests, because he’s much too fixated on the way you look spread out beneath him. He didn’t think he’d ever get to see you this debauched, a flush riding high on your cheeks as you turn your head away in embarrassment, your hips bucking needily into his waiting hand, hair mussed and pupils blown out with lust.

You’re not the same girl he used to idolize, now that he’s seen you like this.

“I wonder how tight your pussy is,” he muses. “It hasn’t been tainted, right? Except for when you’ve touched yourself.”

Now there’s a sight he wants to see.

He withdraws from between your legs, but he moves his large hands to pry at your thighs and hold you in place. “I want you to do it for me,” he orders. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

You feel so fucking vulnerable in this position, legs forced apart and your glistening cunt bared to his hungry gaze, completely at the mercy of his whims and fancies, your body gone almost limp with fear at the thought of what he could do.

So you follow his directions like a good little girl.

You reach a finger to the entrance of your cunt, but the angle is awkward, and when you shove it inside, you’re barely able to feel even an inch of stretch. It’s frustrating, embarrassing, humiliating to be so helpless in front of Keishin, but you swallow the shame and begin to roughly thrust a finger in and out of your dry hole, even when the ache in your cunt is screaming for something much bigger - much more satisfying - to fill you up and satiate the need throbbing in your pussy.

He clicks his tongue mockingly. “Not good enough?” he asks. Keishin can tell from the pained expression on your face, from the slight twitching of your hips every time your stubby fingers brush against your g-spot, even though your face is turned away from him, and he knows what you’re really asking for with your panting and whining.

You’re asking for him.

Sweetheart, he’s more than okay with teaching you how to do it properly.

He moves your cramped hand away from its pathetic attempt at satisfying you, bringing a thumb up to rest at your clit, relishing at the way it pulses with need after just a few light circles. “More?” he asks.

Guilt is written all over your features, your eyes darting away, fingertips curling to grip at his sheets as he presses down more firmly. The twinge of stimulation sends white-hot arousal rushing to your cunt, your brain becoming hazy and unfocused, and the only thing you can think about is wanting more, more stimulation, more of his soothing words whispered in your ear, more of his deft touches and long, thick fingers.

“Mhm,” you whimper quietly. “Yes.”

Keishin stops the movement of his thumb, the warm palm of his hand resting against your throbbing clit. “More of what?”

You shake your head, embarrassment seeping into your veins. You don’t want to say it. You can’t say it.

He dips a finger into your cunt, teasing at the entrance before trailing light, soft touches up and down your folds. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Please,” you beg, desperation written across your face. “Touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” he asks, malice glinting in his eyes. He wants to hear you say those filthy words, wants his precious, innocent best friend to beg him to do the things he’d only ever dreamed of.

“My…” you trail off, eyes now hazy and unfocused as you blink back tears. “My pussy. Want your fingers inside my pussy.”

What a good girl.

“Knew you could do it for me,” he growls, slipping his finger deeper into your twitching hole. “When you want something, you have to learn to ask for it.”

He doesn’t hold back now, adding another thick finger inside to stroke and pet at your sensitive walls, pressing up against your g-spot firmly as his thumb rubs steady, even circles on your clit. The stimulation comes crashing down like a wave of relief for your sore, aching hole, his fingers playing with your cunt better than you ever could, reaching deeper inside you, stretching you out further, making you cream around his skilled digits until your hole is left fluttering and fucked out.

You barely have the energy to resist when he pulls out his cock, painfully hard and leaking, and fits it to the entrance of your pussy. He pushes in slowly, gently, his deliberate movement a facade of tenderness, stretching you out until the pleasure pulsing in your core becomes almost unbearable from how unhurried he’s fucking you.

“Holy shit,” he says, swearing under his breath. Keishin wishes all the other undeserving men at the bar could see you now, sprawled out on his bed like his own personal fuckdoll, your eyes rolled back into your head, gasping and moaning as he breaks in your virgin cunt. He knows he’s fucking you better than any other man ever could, wrecking you in ways you’ll think about years in future when you close the blinds and dim the lights and slip a hand between your legs.

And as he finishes, groaning in pleasure as the waves of an orgasm wash over him, he pulls out of your slippery cunt and watches as his thick spurts of cum land all over the soft, smooth skin of your chest and stomach, marking you as his.

You look so beautiful painted white.

No, maybe beautiful is the wrong word. You’d always been so pure in his eyes, so clean and untouchable, but looking down at your quivering form, he begins to finally see what he’d been to blind to all along. For the first time, he sees how slutty your tits are covered in his cum, how they’re almost pushed up to your chin when you’re lying on your back. When he squeezes at your thighs, your ass, your waist, the excess flesh spills over in all the places that make you perfect for fucking.

You’re not innocent anymore, he realizes with a sense of twisted satisfaction. Not after this.

You’ve been ruined, haven’t you?

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ulalumewitch · 3 years ago

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I’ve had this Elucien fic rolling around my brain for a while and decided to put it out there. No warnings with this one. Just angst and bits of hope for possible futures (I swear I write things other than angst all the time - haha).

Happy Sunday everyone!

Word count: 2,807

Themes: Angst/Hope

Choices

Lucien couldn’t believe it. He could not believe that another Winter Solstice ended in utter ruins because of his mate. Because of his godsdamned mate and he’d had enough. He would end it, and end it now.

“Elain!” He shouted at her retreating figure.

But she pulled the ruby red cloak tighter around her shoulders and quickened her steps. Fresh snow remained mostly untouched on small front lawns and sidewalks of Velaris as he ran from the front door of the Riverside Estate after Elain. Most families and friends likely hunkered down in their homes enjoying fires and brandies and gifts and laughter with no cause to go out walking as the last hours of Solstice crept by entering the darkest hours of night before the dawn.

The longest night of the year. The longest three years of his life. Three years of being both rejected and not rejected by his mate. And he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you stop,” he growled as they reached the gate, “You owe me one conversation.”

Elain stopped. Her spine snapped straight. She turned and glared at him, her eyes molten with pure hatred.

Lucien had chosen his words carefully. Tempers he could handle, he’d had enough practice over the centuries with a hot headed High Lord. He could handle master manipulators and sweet talkers. He could handle battle worn generals and courtiers of the most delicate constitution. He could handle gossipers and those genuinely interested in friendship.

But what he could not handle was nothing. He could not handle the looks that went right through him. The unanswered questions. The blank stares. The Solstice presents delicately placed to the side and left alone as if they didn’t exist at all.

“I owe you nothing. Leave me alone.”

“I won’t. You are my mate -“

“I don’t want to be your mate!”

“Then reject me and reject he bond!” Lucien yelled, his voice echoing through the silent night.

The stars glittered in the black sky, now completely clear after the fast moving snow clouds from earlier in the evening had dissipated. It brought just enough snow to coat the city white before moving on. As if the Mother heard every prayer from the younglings of Night Court for a white Solstice, and then granted their wish.

Elain’s nostrils flared and for a moment, the briefest moment, her eyes flashed an emotion he couldn’t quite place but had seen before. And it hit him. She’d possessed the same look of bewilderment when she’d still been sopping wet from the Cauldron’s waters, Nesta clawing at her sobbing. The look of knowing but not knowing.

“Reject it,” he rasped, the fight and fire receding slightly, “Reject it so that I can move on. You think I enjoy this? You think that any of this has made me feel good over the last three years?”

“I didn’t choose you. I didn’t choose any of this. I didn’t want any of this,” she cried.

Lucien took a breath. It was rare he lost control like this. He’d spent centuries honing his reactions and temperament to be the Fox and mold his features and behaviors into whatever he’d needed in order to ferret out information, or to keep his own secrets safe. But he couldn’t do that around her, his mate.

“I didn’t choose you either,” Lucien said.

She flinched, and looked away down the street. She crossed her arms and shivered. Her cheeks flushed a pink as if kissed by two rose petals and once again her beauty struck him like a slap across the face.

“I know you were in love with another male -“

“Stop it -“

“I know you hate being Fae. I know what you did to try and turn yourself human again -“

“I said stop it,” Elain growled through clenched teeth, “Stop it. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t take it anymore,” Lucien stated, willing himself to be calm, to stop shouting.

He needed this conversation. They both did.

“You wouldn’t know this because you refuse to ever speak to me but I was in love once too,” Lucien said and took a step closer to her, “I was in love with a female and planned to marry her. And my - And the High Lord of Autumn had her killed in front of me and I couldn’t save her.”

Elain’s lips parted in a silent gasp. Her brow furrowed. For a moment he thought she might ask a question, but instead she closed her lips and looked down at he ground.

“I didn’t choose to live without her. I didn’t choose to run away to another Court and make a home there. I didn’t choose a life of intelligence work, books, sparring, warring, and everything in between. But we don’t always get a choice, Elain. What we can choose is what we do with the things that happen to us.”

Lucien paused but she remained silent. Because of course she would stay silent. Fine. Maybe it would be easier this way.

“I chose to deepen my friendship with Tamlin and to truly be a part of his Court and I made the best of it. I chose to continue my education of Courts and history and everything in between so that I could help keep the peace as much as possible. I chose to become trained as a warrior so that I could be as strong and prepared as possible for any situation. I chose those things to make the best of my life. I chose not to wallow in the what-could-have-beens for centuries because no one can survive that way.”

Lucien took another step towards her so that they were only a few inches apart. He could see Elain’s breathing had increased slightly. Her arms tightened across her chest. But she did not move away.

“I did not choose to be your mate, no one gets that choice,” Lucien whispered, “But we can choose, together, whether we want to reject this mating bond to try to lessen its effects as much as possible. It will never go away completely, but if we officially reject it then we can at least bury it and move on separately and away from each other.”

“Is that what you want?” Elain whispered, and she glanced up at him, her eyes somehow still sparkling as if the sun reflected in them.

Lucien’s heart ached. It was the first question she’d asked him since asking if he could hear her beat those years ago. And she’d been so broken then, he could barely breathe around the memory of seeing her in such a state. So he told her the truth.

“What I want is for you to talk with me and be honest with me,” he began carefully, “I want to know why the Cauldron and Mother saw fit to pair us together. Do you know that mates are equally matched and often so is their magic, their power?”

Elain glanced away and nodded. She shifted on her feet slightly.

“I’ve done some research on it.”

Lucien leaned closer to her and clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t need her or those obnoxious bats, whom he knew lurked in the shadows, to think he would touch her. Overbearing babysitters the lot of them, even if their hearts were in the right place.

“No one knows what I’m about to tell you Elain. You could use the information against me and spread it to the Inner Circle, or anyone who might wish me harm, or you could tuck it away for private reflection. But I have much more magic and power than anyone thinks. I only let a very little bit show in the company of others. And since we are mates, I have a theory that you are the same. You only show a small bit of what you are actually capable of and have hidden the rest away. Your sisters are powerful, Elain, and I find it very hard to believe that you would be different. I also think that one of the reasons you are so unhappy is because it scares you. I could help you discover what you’re capable of - learn about it, grow with it, strengthen it, control it, and use it. You were not given a choice to become Fae and I am sorry that neither Tamlin nor I realized what was happening until it was too late. You have no idea how sorry I am. And I am sorry that you lost the love of your life in the process. I’m sorry.”

Elain stared at him. Stared and stared.

Lucien could scarcely breathe. His heart lurched forward in his chest, begging him to tug on the bond, to bring her nearer. To touch her. Kiss her. Love her.

But he forced the instinct down. Even though every beat of his heart echoed, my mate, he shut all of it down.

“There are options other than rejection,” he began slowly, “If you would like, Elain, we could discuss it, but it can’t only be me talking. And if I’m being honest, it kills me that I don’t know you. Feyre used to talk about you all the time at Spring Court when she lived there. And over the past three years I’ve gotten bits from her and Nesta, on the rare occasion I speak with her. But those are their perspectives. I would like to know first hand, about you.”

Elain looked away and cleared her throat, “What is it you want to know?”

Hope sparked in Lucien’s chest. He tightened his hands behind his back. Carefully. He had to tread so, so carefully.

“Well, for starters, I’ve always wondered if there is anything other than gardening you enjoy? What do you like? What are your passions? Your dreams? What makes you happy? Upset? Do you have any religious or spiritual beliefs? Do you enjoy sports? Do you have a favorite season? Hobbies? Preferred genre of music? Books? I want to know about you, Elain, and not from anyone else. I want to experience you. I want to know why the godsdamned universe decided why you and I should be together.”

Elain let out a breath that could have been a laugh or a huff of annoyance. He wasn’t sure which, and it killed him that he didn’t know his mate well enough to know which it was.

“I hate winter,” she whispered and looked up at the sky, “I hate the cold. I never want to be cold again. I’ve had enough of it after living in that godforsaken hovel all those years. Spring has always been my favorite season. Is … how is it there?”

Lucien frowned slightly, “Improving at a glacial pace.”

“I remember the night Azriel and Feyre came to rescue me at Hybern’s camp,” she whispered, her arms tightening around her, “And I remember Azriel holding on to me as I held on to that poor girl and watching in horror as those beast things closed in on my sister. I thought she was dead. And then Tamlin came out of no where and saved her. Saved us. I think of that quite a bit actually.”

Lucien stared at her. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“If he needs assistance with his gardens, I could help. I’m bored to tears in winter here and I don’t think the High Lord of Spring should have flagging gardens, do you?” Elain asked and met his eyes then.

Strength shone in them. Her chin tipped up slightly and Lucien lost his breath. A shiver ran along his spine as he realized his assumption on her untapped and hidden power had likely been correct. He did not stare into the eyes of a doe but a Wolf. Of course a godsdamned Wolf would would lurk under her skin. She was an Archeron sister after all.

“No, I don’t think so either. It might help Tam, to have his estate restored a bit,” Lucien suggested carefully, “If you ever wanted to get away from the cold of Velaris during winter, I could arrange it.”

Elain looked away again and whispered, “I’ve been so lonely. I don’t know what to do.”

Lucien frowned as pain wrapped around his heart, and realized with utter horror, it was not his pain but hers. Gods, had she been living with this?

“Elain,” Lucien murmured, “All I’m asking for is to share one meal. One conversation. I’m not suggesting we get mated or married or any of it. Hell, I’m not even asking for a date. I’m only asking for one conversation so that we can both maybe decide if rejecting the bond really is the best thing or if maybe, maybe, there might be something here worth exploring, growing, tending like one of your gardens. No expectations. Just …”

“Just time to decide what kind of choice we want to make with what the Cauldron gave us?” Elain offered quietly.

A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding rasped through his lips. His gold eye whirred. He blinked and golden light swirled around Elain hedged with blush pink and warm vermillion. She looked like a goddess inside the sun, and gods did he want to worship her. But was she worth worshiping? He desperately wanted to find out.

He blinked and his eye showed her as any one would see her once again. Lucien nodded his agreement.

Elain cleared her throat and looked down the street, “I didn’t eat. Did you?”

“Not much, those fools love their drink on holidays,” Lucien offered with a small laugh, “They’re a happy lot though aren’t they?”

Elain shrugged, “I suppose. Are you hungry?”

Warmth spread through his chest. Lucien allowed a smile to touch his lips.

“I could eat.”

“Do you think any of the restaurants are open?” Elain asked.

“You want to have this conversation now?” Lucien asked incredulously.

A smile bloomed across her face. Her rosy cheeks pinked further and he’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in his life before.

Elain released her arms and crooked an elbow to him. He stared at the offered arm. Was he dreaming?

“Well, Fox?” Elain asked, “Shall we?”

Lucien’s heart leapt in his chest. He closed the last few inches between them and looped his arm through hers. Suddenly, the weight of a thousand stones of grief and dejection lifted from his shoulders. His heart felt so light he could have wept.

“I know of one restaurant that will be open. It’s not the best, but it’s decent and within walking distance,” Lucien began, “And after this conversation, if you would like to have another - if we would both like to have another - then I can take you to my favorite restaurant. It is in the middle of the largest botanical gardens in all of Prythian.”

Elain raised an eyebrow, “In the middle of winter?”

Lucien grinned at her and winked, “It’s in Summer Court.”

She nodded, “I would like that, if,” and softly cleared her throat, “If we both decide we would like another conversation after tonight that is.”

Lucien nodded, “Very well, Lady Light. Are you cold?”

A small smile. An even smaller snicker.

“A little.”

“Give me your hand,” Lucien offered his free hand to her, palm up.

Elain stared at his open palm. Lucien felt a small lick of pride at how still she became, like a true Immortal creature, she’d mastered the art of preternatural stillness.

Then, she lightly rested her hand against his. Lucien maintained eye contact with her as he closed his fingers around her hand and touched the spark of fire within him. Elain gasped and her eyes widened.

“How did you do that?” She murmured, and a small laugh escaped her, “I’m positively toasty.”

Lucien’s heart fluttered but kept his tone airy, almost bored, “A small bit of magic for me. It’s a gift not everyone possesses. Not many know I can do it. Shall we eat? I’m rather hungry myself.”

Elain nodded, “I would like that, thank you.”

Lucien nodded and let go of her hand but tightened his arm still hooked around hers slightly. He didn’t bother to hide the widening of his smile as she gently squeezed back.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother as they walked arm in arm down the street, their tracks the only pair as they made their way away from the High Lord and Lady’s Riverside estate and into Velaris.

Lucien didn’t know what choice she would make in the end. He didn’t know what choice he would make in the end. But at least, for now, there was a sun dawning to end the longest night of the year. And he’d never been happier to see its light.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#elucien #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #lucien #angst #possibility

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bokugaos · 4 years ago

Text

Territory

＞﹏＜ koutarou-nii just has to be the first here!! @aoyukai @kiyokens @shoyokuns for this nd helping nd encouraging me yesterday ILY’ALL MWAH

length: ~2k

warnings — yandere!bokuto, pseudo-incest, virgin reader

Bokuto can’t get enough of his pure and perfect little sister. So sweet, so soft, and untouched. Like an angel.

He knows about the things you talk about with his two older sisters. He tunes in to your conversations a lot; to keep tabs on you, he insists! As a responsible older brother, he has to know everything about you.

He’s seen the way other men look at you—his old high school classmates and teammates, strangers on the street, hell, even his current teammates. Everyone knows you’re off limits, he always makes sure of it. Nobody has the right to take you away from him, to be the reason that you’re going to cater to someone else’s attention but his.

You belong to him and only him.

But you’re simply too stubborn for your own good. You just have to go out and make your own friends, and now you have some suitors that he’s concerned about. You’ve dated some of them and of course Bokuto is spending more than half his time worrying about you and the things you do with them.

The thought of one of them, thinking they have the right to take away your virgin flower. He’s not even entitled to have you, let alone all those scumbags. He can’t bear the thought of someone snatching your innocence away—you’re so precious to him that he doesn’t even allow himself to have it. He would never ever let anyone else take it, not under his watch.

He is more than delighted when you announce to him that you’re going to stop meeting and dating people. You’re now finally seeing eye to eye with him! You haven’t been hanging out with other people, spending most of your time with him, as if living together is not enough for you.

You’ve voiced your complaints before, how you’re getting weird comments from your friends. They told you that it’s not normal for siblings to be that close. But he understands; they hate that you’re no longer so attached to them since you go out to see them less and less. He tries to explain to you that they are simply jealous.

You don’t need anyone else after all; he’s the only one you need, and he’s the best man you can ever find in this world.

But he’d be lying if he says he’s never had a lapse of judgment. You’re not making it any easier for him either, even though you don’t know just how weak he is for you. He’d catch you with your eyes closed, so relaxed and unguarded… what are you thinking? Do you lose your imagination, like he often does?

Are you fantasizing about him caressing you as he’s lowering you to the bed? Because he’s done it a few times you know, putting you to sleep like that. He has just never made any moves beyond. Maybe you unconsciously wish for him to all the same and that’s what you’re thinking about

Do you want him to pull the underwear down your thighs, slowly rub his fingers over your sex, smear your love juice to make sure you’re at least a little prepared for him, before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance? Do you want to feel him, inch by inch, as he sheathes himself deep into your tight, hot, virgin space? Because he would love nothing more than to listen to your moans, all your cute squirms underneath him and your delicious whimpers.

When you call out, “Kou-nii”, his heart jumps—he knows you’re definitely not thinking of anyone else. This is the only time he’s giving into a moment of weakness. He’s got you pressed up on the wall, your clothes hiked up just enough for him to have more of your thigh to grind against. You’re asking him—practically begging him to sink himself into you. “Am I not worthy?” You are, and your mewls, his sister gift wrapping it for him in the prettiest show of doubt and hesitation, can break his fixation.

Bokuto glides his hot, needy cock against your skin. His wet, leaking tip is leaving glistening trails, beautifying you even more. You keep your hands to yourself, both pressed on the surface of the wall. Your eyes are starting to close with each rock of your body, while musical little hums resonate behind closed lips.

He growls, having worked himself into a heated madness. He spins you around, and you instinctively close your legs tightly together for him. With slight difficulty, he wedges himself between the pillowy parts of your thighs, the softest portions, just underneath your crotch. He ruts in between them, with fervent quick snaps.

His hands plant onto the wall on either side of you. His cock briefly grazes the cloth of your underwear, feeling the moist there. He can’t tell if he’s simply leaking that much, or if you’re truly that wet for him. He pulls back to peel your underwear down in a flash and the next thing you know, its head is rubbing against you, earning him a soft moan bellowing against his ear.

The bedroom is a tad too far, but he won’t let himself be the reason his whole fantasy, the one he’s been dreaming around his fist about, to be ruined. He ups and carries you to the room, restraining himself from throwing you against the mattress and start fucking you senseless.

He crawls on the bed and hovers above you with heavy breaths, unable to calm himself down no matter how hard he tries. You’re so beautiful for him, laying on the stark white sheets as pure as you. He opens up your legs, marveling at how you look like a goddess in his bed. You’re so, very perfect. How is he so lucky to be the one who sees you like this?

Thankful that you’ve waited this whole time,—for him!—and let him take you. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls his hips back, cock leaving a wet trail from navel to mound. He angles his hips so that his bulky head lines up perfectly with your hungry cunt. Your inner, velvety walls hug him, just the tip this time, like a vice grip.

The last bits of his moral center shut down.

All Bokuto wants now is to fuck and fuck fast. To bury himself to the hilt, over and over. However, he’ll need to ease you up even more, as he’s barely even a quarter in but you’re already milking him so tightly that his eyes might actually roll back in pleasure. With an adorable cry—he’s unsure if it’s a surprised one or a pained one—your slack hands move his forearm to his biceps, clinging tighter and tighter the rougher he is. He loves that. It feels as if you're returning some of the passion, so he gives it even more effort.

He mercilessly plunges inside with a few rude thrusts of his pelvis. You wail at the sudden stretch, the burn that careens through your silky, slick walls. Flowering up into your chest, taking the breath from your lungs.

Though his hands are caressing you all over, it seems as if he is not paying any mind to any of your other reactions. Your wails, or the heavy flow of tears that roll down your temples. The whimpering or the continued pleading.

“Hey, pretty girl, don’t cry, huh?” one of his trembling hands smooths over your cheek, trying his best to comfort you despite the raging need in him to thrust faster, harder. “I-it hurts! and they… they said this is-”

“Just ignore them.”

A thumb hooks around your chin gently but insistently, leaving no room for argument, and you look up to meet his gaze. Bokuto only realizes he’d been slowing down, staring deeply into your eyes when a sob bubbles out of your mouth. Your eyes are half-lidded as he grazes his nose against yours. Kitty kisses, he always calls them. This seems to soothe you the smallest bit. His consciousness is blurring like watercolor now. He has to focus on the more important part of this, he realizes. And it’s you. “How bad does it hurt?”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know, baby, I know…it hurts the first time, remember? But d-don’t be scared, I-ah, fuck! It’s nii-chan,” Bokuto’s hips buck faster and harder, “Nii-chan’s got you.”

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath in through your nose. One of his hands is roaming your body, trying to distract you. The very tips of his fingers, gliding over the slopes of your breasts, teasing your nipples. Sending sharp shivers through your stomach into your pussy. Accumulating a new bout of slick, your cunt feeling hot and needy, you clench around him.

Your fingers come together in a fist over your head. All you can focus on is how deep his cock is hitting you, how filled up you are. The unbelievable heat, how your pussy continues to salivate all over his cock. Slick seeping in between your cheeks. Thighs shaking, as your velvet walls clamp down on his length. “Ah!– Nii-chan! Fu-fuck… oh– oh my god…” Your whole body quakes with your intense orgasm.

You throw your hands back over your head and arch your back. Your breath is fevered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Shaky meek whines that accompany every exhale. But that’s now, because your body is begging for it, pleading to get filled and creamed.

Bokuto continues to piston into you long after you're done coming. He fucks you until you’re a sweaty, grimy, whimpering mess. All muscle strength lost to it, becoming a rag-doll being puppeted by his big, unrelenting figure.

A deep-seated growl in his chest, not yet, he thinks, maybe you need some more practice before you can take him all the way inside. He’s too inside himself to recognize the wail you give, hunching over and burying his face in your neck, tasting sweat and fear and wholly unable to stop himself at all. He grunts like an animal, punctuated by loud, slick smacking sounds, overwhelmed with the pleasure of your burning hot, resisting walls clutching at him like a fist.

You turn him on so much. The tight constriction of your heavenly, virgin cunt. The heavy, moist breath on his neck. Nothing else matters, nothing except catching his end. Filling you up and making you his.

Your nails dig into his biceps and he comes. “Oh! Shit– It’s am– amazing.” His cock, aching and twitching inside of you. He’s coming hard, thick and heavy. Seated all the way inside, spurting deep within you, causing your belly to feel flooded. Marking his territory, you’re his.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cum spilling out of your cute, used up hole. “How’s it feel, angel?”

“ ‘s so good...” You weakly roll your head, face digging into the sheets. You have no strength to lift up your head, but you hope he’ll see your dazed smile.

He chuckles, “Silly baby, of course it does.”

You try to turn over, but he won’t allow it. “No, no. Don’t move. I’ll get you cleaned up!” He comes back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleans off the sweat from your forehead, wipes up stickiness from between your legs. Then he lets you move just he hugs you close to his chest, as he lays down with you in his arms.

Bokuto nuzzles his nose along your cheekbone, humming in approval. He is massaging circles, nibbling on your earlobe. You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to concentrate.

His body is so big, his musk so familiar and homely. You sigh as you finally start to relax, “...Kou-nii is the best.”

He is, and in fact, the only one you need.

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #.bokuto!#koutarou nii ♡#.fics!

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countryclubstarkey · 4 years ago

Text

Brat - Rafe Cameron x Reader x Topper Thornton Smut

Pairing: Topper Thornton x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, 18+, threesome, drug use, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), Rafe being a dick, Just filthy I’m sorry.

Word count: 2.9+

Visiting the Outer Banks during the summer was a tradition that your family did every summer since you were 5 years old. You used to think it was cool, but now at 17 years old, you prefer to go to Paris or Spain. It would have been more fun for you to stay in your hometown, at least you could spend some time with your friends.

You know a few people who lived in the Outer Banks such as the Camerons, you and Sarah were on friendly terms but you wouldn’t call her a close friend. She invited you to a few parties and hung out with you for a few hours before ditching you to spend some time with her friends. Tonight was no different, she invited you to her friends, Topper’s party.

Sara picks you up, you notice her brother driving. You know his name was Rafe, and that he was hot but an asshole. He spilled his drink on you once and asked you to apologize; which made you stomp on his feet and walkway.

You saw him glancing at you through the mirror, as you were talking to Sarah. He saw you caught him and turned his attention to the road again. Finally, pulling up to a big mansion with loud music booming from it. Sarah grabs your arm and pulls you to the house, and immediately to the drinks table. You take three shots and head to the dance floor, drunk Sarah was your favorite.

That was your routine for a few hours, you guys would take a few shots, then dance to the music that was blaring throughout the house. You saw Rafe once throughout the night with a bunch of his friends doing coke at some random table.

“Hey, I’m going to hang out with my friend John B for a little,” Sarah tells you after a few hours. Her comment automatically makes you smirk.

“John B, huh?” you question her. She gave you the middle finger and saw her approaching a boy that did not fit the “kook” category. His shirt was unbuttoned and a bandana wrapped around his neck. You saw Sarah walk towards him and give him a passionate kiss. Huh, you think, you didn’t think she would ever go for anyone who didn’t have the status of a kook. You decide to look for someone interesting and that’s how you end up at the pool.

You saw a group of guys gathered around a table, and decide to join them. Shitty company was better than no company right? You notice one of them was Rafe, so you steer clear of him.

“Mind, if I sit here?” you ask the guy with extremely blonde hair. He looks up at you and you notice his pupils were extremely dilated. He pats the seat and ushers for you to take a sit.

“I’m Topper by the way,” he tells you. Oh, so this was Sarah’s friend.

“I’m y/n, so you’re the host of this party?” asking with a slight smirk. He nods his head and puts his arm around you. You glanced at Rafe and saw his eyes glaring at you and Topper. You try to shrug it off, and avoid it.

“Yo, Rafe, you want to take another line,” one of the other guys at the table asks him. He responds with a grunt and sets up two lines on the table in front of him. He kept his gaze on you throughout the entire process, not even breaking it when he snorts the two lines. You push away the unholy thoughts that you began to create in your head.

“You want one?” Topper asks.

“No, I’m not really into coke,” you tell him. He nods his head and decides to hit one for himself.

“Come on sweetheart, one line won’t hurt you, will it?” Rafe asks with a snarky grin. Causing you to roll your eyes, you knew he was challenging you. He knows you’re a competitive person and didn’t back down from a challenge.

“I don’t need coke to have fun Rafe,” his comment made you pull Topper away from the table and pull him into a sloppy kiss. He didn’t react at first but kisses back immediately after. He grabs your hips and pulls you into his lap to keep you close. Feeling his length slowly grow under your clothed heat, you began to pull away since you just proved your point to Rafe and didn’t want to escalate things. Instead, Topper grabs the back of your neck and kept the kiss going. You went with the flow since you were still drunk from your time with Sarah and Topper was high from the coke and some other stuff probably.

Topper squeezes your ass, causing you to let out a yearning gasp. Taking the opportunity to pierce your mouth with his tongue stimulating the untouched territory. His hands began to wander around your body until one of them rests on your thighs and the other loosely grips your neck. You pull away to control your breathing, and Topper moves the hand around your neck and replaces it with his lips instead. He began leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck and chest, feeling him sucking longer on a particular part of your chest leaving a grand mark.

Coming to the realization that you were in public, you manage to pull away from Topper getting back to your seat beside him. Looking at his burning state, Topper’s crimson cheeks are alarming and his bruising soft lips, alongside his tangled hair. You probably look the same, noticing that none of the boys were fazed by your intense makeout session. One of them was practically having sex with his own girl, two of them were doing coke, and lastly, your eyes land on Rafe. He was looking at you with desire and lust, you were expecting a glare.

“Thanks for the show,” Rafe compliments you two, you were about to respond, but Topper beat you to it. “Shut up man,” he retaliates with a deep chuckle.

After a little bit, you left the boys and wander the house. Doing a couple more shots during the process, feeling the urge to pee you went exploring for the bathroom. Topper let you know that if you need to use the bathroom, you can just go to the one near his room. While heading upstairs, you start getting distracted by the paintings surrounding his house. You finally did your business and were about to head downstairs back to the party.

A voice erupted from behind you, “Leaving so soon.” The voice left you startled causing you to turn facing Rafe once again, he was sipping something from his red solo cup while leaning against the wall.

Rolling your eyes at his childish antics, “No, just away from you,” his spontaneous laughter erupted in the narrow hallway.

“Always with the attitude y/n,” he exclaims while walking closer to you. You were about to walk away but were blocked by another person. His figure felt familiar, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself, Topper was the barrier blocking you from returning to the party.

Leaning closer to your left ear and nipping the delicate skin, “He told me a little about you, how you always talk back and are a little firecracker,” while having a deathly hold on your hips with his massive hands.

“And you trust what comes out his mouth,” Rafe appears in front of you, his eyes no longer their natural blue color instead they were purely filled with lust clouding his judgment.

Rafe swiftly grabs your jaw tightly, “You’re really funny you know that, you brat.” You try to pull away from his grip, but his hold was sturdy. Topper’s lips began to brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He tilts your neck, giving himself more access to recklessly tease the skin leaving more marks to be seen by everyone later.

You put your hands on Rafe’s chest to steady yourself, he shoves your hands sharply away. He gripped your jaw again to tilt your head towards his, he roughly smashes his lips onto yours. Slipping his tongue hastily in your mouth earning an abrupt moan from you. Your judgment is compromised, you didn’t know which boy to pay attention to.

Topper grabs your waist and turns you around to face him instead. Crashing his lips onto yours, while keeping a tight grip in your hair. Rafe’s hands reach around to knead your breasts, feeling your nipples harden under his touch. He reaches underneath your shirt and cups each breast, while his thumbs scrape against your nipples. Topper pushes you both towards his room slamming the door shut.

Rafe grips your shirt and pulls it off tossing it to some random corner of the room. Trying to the same, instead, Topper grips your wrists and gives a rigid slap on your ass. The action makes you let out an impulsive moan. Which Rafe silences by consuming your lips with his. His hands began to work on the buttons of your shorts, hastily opening them. You kick off your shorts noticing how you were the only one undressed.

Pulling away from the two boys, “This isn’t fair, why am I the only half-naked,” you pout. Topper pushes you on the bed and takes his shirt off. Rafe did the same leaving him only in his jeans, trying to sit up to caress his bulge, your actions were stopped by sudden push.

Rafe unhooks your bra, tossing it aside. His large hands began to palm your breast, pulling one into his mouth playfully biting one. One hand twists your nipple earning a small yelp which he silences by a hard slap onto your breasts. He flips you over on your hands and knees where Topper was waiting patiently for your mouth. You help pull his shorts down alongside his briefs, his member sprung up almost hitting your face. He was a lot of girthier and his length was impressive definitely more than you were used to. Grabbing the base with one hand and holding yourself steady with the other. You start to kitten lick his tip, smearing the precum around. He grips your hair and pulling you away roughly.

Tightly grabbing your hair to show you who’s in charge, “No, no, you’re not teasing me, sweetheart, now open up and let me properly fuck your face.” Opening your mouth wide open for him, he slams his dick down your throat making you gag immediately. It took you a few thrusts to get used to his size, you were trying to focus on pleasing him but let out a moan when you feel Rafe’s hot breath on your core. He pulls your panties down, teasing your entrance with his tongue. He has a firm grip on your ass giving himself a clear view of your slit. He slips two fingers into your core making you let out a tiny whimper. This sends vibrations down Topper’s cock and he lets out a loud groan.

Rafe speeds up his fingers and furiously rubs your clit at the same. He gives a smack to your ass, rubbing the skin after to soothe the pain before repeating his actions. He starts curling his fingers to hit your g-spot. At the same time, you feel Topper let out a loud groan before releasing everything in your mouth. You caught what you could in your mouth, but some spill out onto your chin dripping down your neck.

Topper pulls away, giving a light tap your cheek whispering, “ good girl.”

You were interrupted when Rafe adds a third finger, making your stomach coil up, “I’m gonna c-umm.” He keeps hitting the same spot that makes your body shake as your first orgasm of the night began to approach. Your legs gave out, and you drop to the bed but Topper holds you up by grabbing your waist. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably when you finish, you try to slap Rafe’s hands away but his grip is strong preventing you do so. They flip you over, and Rafe continues his assault on your mound moving his fingers at an uncontrollable pace. Topper cups your breasts and pulls one into his mouth while twisting your nipples with his hands. You feel your orgasm building up again so you try to push Rafe’s hand away from your swollen clit. Letting out a piercing scream as your second orgasm hits you harder than the first. Finally, Rafe stops his movements and watches you unravel. Topper gives your breasts one last nip throughout your orgasm helping you through it.

When you finally calm down, you notice the two boys staring at you as if you were their prey. In a mocking tone, Rafe says, “You gonna talk back anymore.” You were about to open your mouth to respond, but he held your throat in his hand giving it a light squeeze.

“Wrong answer, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. Rafe rolls you over and suddenly slams into you without warning. You let out a scream of pleasure and pain from his plunging thrusts. You try to keep yourself steady on your hands and knees, but his sharp thrusts cause you to collapse onto the bed once again. He grips your hair pulling you off the bed towards his chest, his hands immediately go to your throat and clit. His thrusts get harder each time leading you closer to your orgasm.

He moved his thumb roughly on your clit causing you to yell out, “Fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum again.”

You felt a harsh slap on your clit, “Hold it,” Rafe mutters in your ear. You start to clench around him, causing him to let out a hiss. Shutting your eyes, while trying to keep up with the pace, he gave one last sharp thrust before whispering “cum” in your ear. His thrusts start to turn sloppy before delivering one last one while muttering profanities in your ears. He pulls out and you feel him drip down your legs onto the bed. Your body drops to the bed, but you feel yourself being turned on your back right away.

Topper’s hands immediately go to your clit rubbing slow circles, you try to push his hands away. “Top, please I can’t,” you whine at him, but your body was betraying you welcoming him with open arms and legs.

“Just one more, baby, come sit on to me,” he lays down on the bed and pulls you on top of him. He guides his length into you inch by inch, he lets out a loud moan as his member stretches you out. Topper was thicker than Rafe but slightly shorter, they both felt different but good in their own ways. Your head leans back and you caught Rafe’s eyes once again. He was sitting on a chair getting the perfect view of what was going on between you and Topper. He has a joint between his lips, his member hardening again from the new sight.

He waves his hand in the air signaling Topper to stop, “Wait, turn her around.” Topper’s hands lift you off his length, he gives a gentle tap on your ass signaling you to turn around. You slid down his length again, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Looking up, you notice Rafe got a better view of everything going on, he was looking intensely at where you and Topper connected.

Topper slaps your ass pulling you out of your trance, signaling you to pick up the pace. You shut your eyes trying not to get lost in Rafe’s eyes so that your only focus is on Topper now.

Your plan starts working until, “Open your eyes and look at me,” his eyes were clouded with darkness, and he was delicately stroking his shaft. Keeping your gaze on him, you felt Topper meeting your thrusts urging you to go faster. Your legs start trembling, causing Topper to rapidly thrust into you lifting you up slightly hitting a new angle. The angle targets your g-spot, making you let out a surprised cry of pleasure.

He pulls your body closer to his, “Come on, let me hear your sweet little cries.” His fingers press firmly on your throbbing clit causing you to thrash in his arms. He wraps his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. Your shaky voice let out a shuddering scream as you feel him increase his speed and you feel yourself let go for the last time.

Letting out a broken cry followed by, “F-uck Topper.”

“Atta girl you did so good for me, just a little more,” giving you a few more thrusts before emptying his load in you. Giving a few more shallow thrusts before slipping out of you, he slips out from underneath you and watches your shaking body calm down.

He gave a harsh slap to your pussy, “Such a good girl for us,” Topper’s words fill the air. Coming back from your high, slowly opening your eyes both boys were watching their cream mix together dripping out of you.

Rafe crawls towards you giving you one final nasty slap on your ass. “Welcome back to the Outer Banks, y/n.”

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x reader smut #topper thorton x reader #topper thornton #topper thornton smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron

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arteacactus · 4 years ago

Note

Can we get a sick fic Janus hiding in his room until someone else breaks down the door? Cause he thought no one would care

this is so out of nowhere bc i like never get fic requests here anymore it’s like always on my sideblog hissceit ,, but it’s 10000% welcome and appreciated JDFJFD thank u .. also i apologize for how needlessly wordy this is HAHA i strayed from the prompt like .. a lot

warnings for sickness , the coughs , vomiting, sore throat , etc , the whole shebang-- and some cursing

-----

It’s not that Janus had never been sick before, it’s just that...

Well, he’d never been sick before.

He wasn’t positive why (which irked him; he hated being in the dark about things, especially things concerning himself), but he had some theories- the most plausible one thus far simply being that while Thomas had always viewed the Light Sides as human, to some extent, he saw Janus as a two-faced snake; a monster kept hidden away in the shadows under his bed. And monsters didn’t get touched by things like disease. So while the others got touched with sickness occasionally, Janus never did.

But if Janus was getting sick now..

That implied that after he told them his name, Thomas started seeing him as somewhat human, too, with vulnerabilities like the rest.

He wasn’t sure just how he felt about that, but he didn’t love it (he liked being untouchable, okay?).

Ah, well, Janus supposed the why didn’t matter much at the moment. He could ponder that after the fact.

Right now was the time to think about how to end it, because it was pure torture.

He was too hot and too cold all at once, his head throbbed and his body ached in places he never knew could ache, his eyes were sore and oozing and his nose wasn’t faring much better. His throat was raw as if he’d spent hours and hours screaming at nothing, and even after trudging his way into the Dark Side’s kitchen for a cup of tea (though it was more like a cup of honey and lemon with a hint of green tea), it felt absolutely no better; in fact, he just felt worse, because he had to leave bed, go downstairs, spend twenty minutes standing around to make the tea, and then go back up the stairs to his room again.

He’d been fidgeting with his blankets for the past three hours; having them on made him too hot, having them off made him too cold, and so he settled for having one leg covered and nothing else (oddly enough, this was actually a good compromise). The air in his room was hot and stuffy which certainly didn’t help- nor did it help his sinuses any, as it made his headache pound worse and his airways were thoroughly blocked off. He dreaded drinking or swallowing anything as it sent the most uncomfortably painful sensation down his throat and rendered him to a groaning, pained mess.

He clutched his pillow weakly, pressing his head into the hot surface. He hated this. Usually, he thrived in the heat, as his room was typically colder than a jail cell, but this time he wanted it gone. He wished it was winter, just so he could full-body launch himself into a mound of snow and sleep for eternity.

He felt a slight tug, the distinct feeling of someone requesting his presence, and promptly shooed it away. Not only was he just wearing pants, but he was sick, and he’d rather die than show that level of weakness to anybody.

Three days before, when he’d first felt his symptoms come on, he’d briefly considered going to someone for help; perhaps Remus, because he was his best friend, or Logan, because surely he’d know how to handle diseases and how to cure them, or maybe even Patton, because he was a father figure and might have even made him soup- but he had quickly banished the thought. Sure, maybe they knew his name now, but they still really didn’t like him and had absolutely no reason to help him and not laugh at his predicament.

Well. Remus liked him well enough, but he would have just taken his morning star and bashed Janus across the head with it and called it good, so Janus had to pass on that.

Another tug came, a little more forcefully this time, and Janus dismissed it, just as forcefully. For a little precaution, he took a deep breath and waved his hand, locking up his room so no one could rise up/appear in it, nor could they come through his door. The strain it put on him to maintain that lock was almost enough to make him pass out, but he didn’t dare remove it; he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him in this state.

He forced his body to roll over to the side, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing in relief as his nose unplugged just enough to take a deep breath in. He found himself actually wishing he’d sneeze, just for the temporary relief it brought.

He pointedly ignored the next few tugs that hit him, though they weren’t as forceful and harsh as the past couple were. He could only assume the only reason they actually wanted him up there was to lecture him, because him being incapacitated like this surely was affecting Thomas in some way that they didn’t like.

Well, sucks to be them, Janus thought in mild frustration, I’m staying right here until this all goes away and I don’t want to die anymore.

Eventually, the incessant tugging slowed to a stop, and then they finally left him alone.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Janus curled his body into a tight ball, cringing at the sticky feeling of his sweaty skin against his silk sheets, and tried to fall asleep.

Thankfully, sleep claimed him easily, and he drifted off.

However easily it came, though, it certainly wasn’t very forgiving.

He didn't wake up randomly, but he kept getting thrown so many vivid nightmares and odd, fever-induced dreams that he almost wished he was waking up every few minutes, if only to get away from whatever things his mind kept throwing at him.

He wasn’t awake, but he was aware of his own constant tossing and turning, his bed creaking in protest every time he thrashed and threw his body around the mattress, and when he finally did open his eyes (his throbbing head wasn’t very appreciative of it), he realized he’d somehow twisted himself so his head was at the foot of his bead and his blankets had been fully tossed onto the floor. His pillows weren’t faring much better; only two of his usual six remained in place, and they were mangled to death, the rest on the floor with his blankets.

Janus truly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn- instead, he weakly pushed his body upright, trying not to topple over as his head swam, and fell right back down in the proper position. Thankfully, though, his head not touching the pillows in a while meant they were delightfully chilled, and he moaned aloud at the lovely sensation it brought him. Absently he wondered if he should gather the strength to get himself an ice pack or run an ice bath, but thought better of it. After all, he was still part snake; he’d rather not throw himself into a self-induced comatose state from the cold.

He blindly reached out and grabbed ahold of his bedside clock, a little antique thing he designed himself to fit his aesthetic despite being very poor at reading Roman numerals, and squinted as he tried to decipher how long he’d been asleep for.

He nearly dropped the thing upon realizing he’d slept for eleven straight hours.

He slid it back onto his nightstand and groaned loudly, though it quickly turned into a pained, chest-wracking cough. He couldn’t avoid it; he had to get up and eat something, or drink something, or get literally anything in his body, because whether he liked it or not, that was the only way he was going to get over this thing quicker.

He managed to move just enough to get up and off the bed (nevermind the fact he nearly fell straight on the floor the second he stood), and took a couple shaky steps towards the door. The moment he reached out to turn the knob, though, the knocking started.

He froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared wide-eyed at the piece of wood in front of him, the only thing separating him from them.

There was a call of ‘Janus?’ that was so soft, Janus didn’t actually know who it came from; but that didn’t matter now, because the doorknob was turning and fuck, when did he let go of his lock?

Janus snapped his fingers, and managed to summon all but his hat when the door opened and revealed- much to his surprise- Virgil.

Janus and Virgil blinked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, but thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to see anything off about him, and just lowered his gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, refusing to meet Janus’ eyes.

“We- uh, they were trying to call you earlier today, you know.” Virgil’s voice was low and gruff, and Janus could honestly say this was the best possible Side to come see him. Remus was loud and shrill, Patton was too cheery and Roman was boisterous- Logan probably wouldn’t have been awful, but with his insistence to look everyone in the eye as he spoke to them, Janus was sure he’d have deciphered what was going on in a second.

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, internally cringing at his rough tone. He cleared his throat, which was screaming in protest at speaking.

Virgil didn't seem to notice- or if he did, he didn’t care. “Well. You made them worry, and they sent me to come collect you.”

“Worr- Collect?” Janus echoed in confusion, taken off guard by everything Virgil said.

“Yeah, uh, you worried them so now they won’t take no for an answer. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Virgil, at least, seemed a little sheepish saying this, but he also has a particularly determined and frustrated look to him. Clearly, he wasn’t happy being the one picked to come ‘collect’ Janus, and he wasn’t going to take no from him as an answer, either.

“Wh-” Janus was cut off as Virgil gripped his arm, and any protests he could have made died on his tongue as they started moving. Dizziness attacked him with such ferocity that he was honestly astounded that he hadn’t immediately fallen over, and his stomach lurched at the speed they were moving. Of course, he didn’t bring this up, just took a deep breath and pushed through. After all, Virgil was the last person he wanted to know about his current state.

Once Virgil brought them across the line that separated the Dark Sides from the Light Sides, the immediate bright artificial light from the lamps and ceiling lights making his head pound in a way that was even worse than what the red light of the heat lamps in the snake terrariums in his room caused.

The air here, though, was clear and fresh, and he basked in the coolness of it as it surrounded him. If it wasn’t for the lights, he’d almost be tempted ask to stay for a while.

Once they made it to the living room, Virgil released him from his grasp, and slunk over into his own corner in the stairwell- and Janus found himself standing right next to Logan.

Unfortunately, they were all staring at him.

Time to put your acting skills to work, Janus, he thought to himself as he heaved an internal sigh, and plastered a toothy grin on his face that bared his sharp canines just enough to make them flinch away.

“So. I was summoned?” His throat protested speech, but thankfully his voice came out smooth and silky, not one bit of it hinting towards his predicament.

“Yeah, and you never answered..?” Thomas seemed more concerned than anything, but Janus definitely saw some suspicion on Roman’s expression (he couldn’t blame him, after how his name reveal went), and Patton was more fidgety than usual. Logan, bless him, didn’t seem to be acting any different, and Virgil looked just as bored as he usually was.

Remus, however...

Well, Remus was looking at Janus with a suspicious gaze similar to Roman’s but far more scrutinizing. Janus briefly felt a flare of panic. If there was anyone here to notice he was off, it would be his best friend, who he lived with and saw every day.

“I was resting, Thomas, would you blame your personification of self-preservation for taking a day off for self-care?” Janus’ tone was exasperated. He wasn’t lying, not really; he was resting, and he was taking a day off for self-care.

Just.. more than one day.

“Respectfully, I have to.. what is the term, ‘call bullshit’?” Came Logan’s voice next to him, and he hoped to God that Logan didn’t notice Janus’ feverish tremors. “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, and it’s escalated to the point where Thomas is beginning to react to it. There is something else going on, and we’d like to know what’s going on.”

Ah, yes, for the good of Thomas, Janus couldn’t help but think a little bitterly, Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they’d worry about my wellbeing. “I’m afraid I wasn’t bullshitting you, Logan,” Janus replied coolly, “It was the truth.”

“Then how come your room looked trashier than Remus’?” Virgil’s voice, where earlier it was comfortingly gruff, was now an offputting growl. Despite his words, though, Janus could tell he was trying to act like he didn’t actually care. He took note of that, because Virgil caring about him was odd.

“Rearranging,” Janus replied simply, and hoped they took that alone as an acceptable answer.

Of course, they didn’t.

“You never rearrange,” Virgil’s tone turned accusatory, and then Patton cut in.

“Well, maybe then that’s why he’s doing it now? For something fresh?” He sounded hopeful, as if he couldn’t wait for this entire conversation to be over. Janus felt similarly.

“I’ve lived with him, Patton, I know him, and it’s not something that happens.” Virgil argued, but this seemed to set off Remus as he cut in with, “And you left, so who are you to claim you ‘know him’?”

This sparked an argument amongst themselves, as they fought over the sudden new topic that thankfully centered around Virgil more than anything, and with Logan, Roman, and Thomas trying to mediate, there was no attention put on him anymore.

Janus took this momentary distraction to let out a sigh of relief, the mix of loud voices and trying to act like nothing was up was doing absolutely no good for his headache and exhaustion. He mourned the loss of his hat, because he could have used that to hide his face away from the lights that were bearing down on him and making his skin feel uncomfortably hot.

Though perhaps that was from all the layers of his outfit.

Unfortunately, though, as the seconds passed, the voices seemed to get louder, the lights got brighter, the clothes got hotter and his stomach was churning, his hands were sweating, his head was pounding his legs were getting shaky oh god his ears were ringing oh fuck fuck stop the noise please turn off the lights please stop please stop-

Distantly, he felt his throat start hurting intensely and he realized he was speaking out loud, stammering out pleads that were growing muffled as everything swamped him. His hands raised to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise around him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, feeling something warm and wet trickle down his face- tears? Was he crying? No, surely he was just imagining the feeling- but before he hit the hard floor, he felt something grab a hold of him, long, spider-like fingers gripping the undersides of his arms like a lifeline. He felt sharp nails and soft ruffles and realized Remus had caught him, he must have run from his spot to catch him before he fell, and Janus felt the stinging gaze of everybody on him. He felt like a mouse that was dropped into a snake’s cage for feeding, cowering beneath the penetrating gaze of the predator before him. The roles were reversed, and he hated it.

He managed to pry open his own eyes- when had he shut them?- and the moment he saw the horrified gazes trained on him, he fled.

He forced himself from Remus’ arms and he vanished, retreating back to his room, where the lights were off and the curtains were shut and the only thing he had to deal with was the light of his snakes’ heat lamps.

The hot, stuffy air attacked him with a vengeance, though, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He stripped himself of his clothes again, his skin glistening, heat radiating off of his person.

He hurriedly locked up his room again, and fell to his knees beside his bed, and retched.

Thankfully, he’d managed to grab his trashcan, but it didn’t make him feel any less humiliated.

He thought he was doing himself a favor, hiding his state from all of them, but from not going to just one of them when he could, he had ended up breaking down in front of all of them.

Body trembling and chest heaving, Janus collapsed onto the hard floor beneath him, unable to pull himself onto his bed, and curled up into a tight ball.

He wanted this to end.

Janus was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t even notice pounding on his door, all of his senses wrapped up in himself, in his throbbing head and hot skin and burning throat and sore stomach and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, until there was a deafening ‘crash’ and splinters of wood came flying into his room.

He flinched at the noise and forced himself to sit up, but the sudden movement made him gag, and he found himself panting like a dog trying to cool himself off and calm down his raging nausea.

There was a barrage of voices at first, but they were quickly hushed- from what, he didn’t know- and then a delightfully cold hand clutched his bicep, and he couldn’t hold back the relieved moan he let out in response.

“I’m gonna put you in bed, okay, Janus?” Came a soft voice- Remus- and Janus didn’t protest as he was gently lifted up by the Creative twin. Admittedly, he didn’t even know Remus could be that gentle, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

There was some quiet shuffling and the sound of a dull ‘smack’ and then someone cursing softly, but soon enough Janus was set down on a set of smooth cotton sheets, clean and cool, and an absolute blessing.

“Jan-Jan, why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Remus’ tone was scolding, like a parent to a young child (ironic, considering Janus was the one who raised Remus), and Janus opened his eyes just enough to see Remus’ face swathed in the shadows of his room.

“Weak,” Janus croaked in reply, his voice wrecked, “Di’n.. wan’ see.”

“Your pride is going to be the death of you,” Remus sighed, and Janus heard some other voices pipe in.

“We would have helped you, Janus,” Thomas sounded sad, almost regretful. For what, Janus would never know.

“Indeed,” Logan’s voice was a comfort, Janus was willing to admit. “In fact, I will begin researching how to best care for this as soon as possible, so you are in utmost comfort while you recover.”

“I’ll make some soup,” Came Patton’s quiet promise, “And water, and tea.”

“I changed your bedsheets,” Roman seemed shy, “If you need me to, I can try and make a set that keeps you cooled down.”

Janus almost moaned aloud at the thought, and Roman must have seen it in his expression because he perked up right away.

“Sorry for, uh, dragging you away so forcefully,” Virgil muttered, and Janus just managed to flap his hand dismissively.

“You didn’ know.” He mumbled weakly, and he felt Remus’ cool touch brush away hair that clung to his sweaty forehead.

“And now we do. So we’re going to take care of you, because we care about you.” He promised in a tone with no room for argument, with the others murmuring in agreement behind him.

And for once, Janus believed him, and let himself be taken care of.

#vanna talks #ask #anonymous #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sickfic #fic #fanfic #sanders sides #tssides #thomas sanders #fanfiction #platonic dlamptr #with a slight focus on dukeceit i suppose #Anonymous

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illyrian-lover-flower · 4 years ago

Text

Day 3: Spies at work

Thank you so much @elrielmonth for planning this wonderful event and all the lovely prompts😊😘

The secrets shadows share

word count: ~4 k

It was the quietest as it had been in months. No laughter or agitated chatting breezed through the air or through the river estate, as merely the wind sang today. Bringing the sweet seer a lullaby of pure peace as her lithe hands kneaded the weed out of the earth in front of her, as if it were a loath of delicious bread, about to unfold its true flavour in the hot depths of a spacious oven, which graced the kitchen.

Though, of course, would she never bake the earth -she was no little child of the age of six anymore- but this earth she tended to would be the oven for hundreds and hundreds of flower seeds. Nurturing them among the mushy grounds until their heads peaked through the layer of mud, eager to feel the shining light of the sun on their petals.

And the flowers were not the only ones craving the touch of sunlight, as the caressing warmth was her only distraction at the moment, of the things which reeled through her head and loved to remember her of what this day might bring.

The twins had asked her to gather some information’s regarding the clipping of Illyrian females at an Illyrian camp, which rested at the feet of the first mountain in the Illyrian Mountains, their latest observations had stated that the number of clippings had increased rapidly -the High Lords law, a mere bump in the road as they overstepped it almost on a daily base. But even if the twins knew of that, they did yet have not gathered much information’s to prove their research and spying. And as all the preparations for Nesta’s Birthday were keeping them busy, Elain was their last card as Azriel himself was away on a mission – this was at least the thought everyone harboured, as there was nothing heard of him for the past two weeks.

The three spies, well two and one in training, had considered the option of telling Rhysand, but as they saw how busy he seemed, building up the structure from his court at the very pit of the beginning while he also tried to be there for is son and wife, who herself had much on her plate to do, made them believe it was better to keep those two out of option. And even if they would have considered it further to tell Rhys and Feyre of their findings, all it would have done would have been, to invoke a duel of blood and war as the Illyrians did not see any further reason to trust their High Lord, when he in return did not offer the same.

And so, sweet Elain would be the one to go, scurrying around the camps as if she were a slave of one of the higher rated Illyrians, while her pointed ears would gather information’s she would whisper and her hands circumstantial evidence she would slip over to the twins once she was done.

It was all just that. Tried Elain to calm her straining nervous as her hands roamed the earth farther and farther, no crumb, as little as it was, untouched by her naked fingers as the coldness caressed her fingertips. She would only gather some information, stay till tomorrow at the camp and then go home again, with, hopefully, some useful information – that was it, so she hoped as dread had long settled into her guts heavy as a rock and screamed for her attention as it placed the scary thought, of what might happen if a clipping were to take place within these days, in her head.

Elain breathed in and out through her nose, as she tried to calm herself further with the musty scent of the wet earth and as she felt, with the slip of time, the sweet kiss of sunlight caressing her skin for a final goodbye, she knew it was time. A final deep breath, that was all she took as she let the chilled air of night fill her lungs, and smeared the earth, that clung to her fingertips, all over her face.

The mushy soil on her face, the first element of her costume she would wear, as she winnowed, with a slight tremble of her body, away into the slowly darker painted room she inhabited at the river estate.

It had taken her a long time to learn this, but the twins had never given up on her, always helping -and motivating- her in their own way, as they hid some ancient recipes, she wanted to try out, from Elain at the place she should winnow to. And it helped, motivated her in a way she had not thought as possible, as she had learned to walk through the folds of this world, like a needle through fabric, at the beginning of the second month they trained with each other. Dark nights and a veil of stars their only witnesses of this training for the past five months, as the moon illuminated Elain’s room with noisy, ghostly hues of silver, which slipped past the billowing sheet of her curtains as the twins were most often there to teach her the ways of the shadow world.

And today, tonight, would be the day she would prove to the two wraiths, with a heart of pure gold, that she did take each and every of their lessons serious as she slipped out of the green gown, of flowing chiffon and let it pool to her feet. A hill, small and delicate forming to her bottom, as the lower seems were stained in the brown of the earth and softly weaved itself higher to the fabric until only the clean green was left. It was a picture of life, one her sisters would have not understood, as they would have merely seen a gown, stained in streaks of dirt, but compared to the rags which she slipped on now, it looked like a piece of pure gold. Even the dress she had worn, back in the little hut , which she could still hear crying after its inhabitants, in her little village, came closer to a gown than the rag she wore now.

Brown, grey and even greenish tatters of fabric were scantily sewn together as they formed the dress, which hang loosely down her body and barely reached those creamy calves of hers as not even a belt hung around her middle. The twins had told her, that if she were to play a slave, she could not have such extravagances, as the long sleeves of her dress were already something most slaves did not have the luxury to wear. So, this sag had to do, along with the head rag she placed carefully over the bronze mass of her hair.

Though it had not taken five minutes for one of the twins, Nuala, to arrive, in a stiffer stance than usual, and decide to do any further adjustments on the seers costume, which mostly related to a small dark dagger which the wraith hid away in the hem of her underwear. “Just in case.” Murmured the twin at her, as she gave the hiding spot of the dagger a little pat to make sure the blade was properly adjusted.

Elain merely offered her beloved friend a fragile smile with a hug as sweet and warm as the sunrise, trying to ease the tension in her, in shadow befogged, shoulders; “I’ll be fine Nuala, don’t worry.” Was all the seer could say in order to prevent the nerves of her friend from snapping, as those cold hands of hers settled around her delicate hips “My sister and I wish you a lot of luck, little fawn, yet luck alone won’t bring you home safely, so please take care of yourself. Avoid any danger you can.”

“I will.” Guaranteed Elain her companion with silent words as they got carried away by the veil of shadows. And before the seer knew it, did she stand at the dark rim of a forest, close to the entrance of the camp, all by herself as the howling wind already tried to pinch her flesh in cold gusts, making her move towards the width of the camp in the hopes of some warmth.

It was mere steps she had to take in order to move inside, yet it were painfully awkward strides as the mushy earth beneath her already seeped through the thin shoe sole of the boots, which were chosen for her. But she couldn’t care, couldn’t complain as all she had in mind was to help the females which needed it most, as her heart was well aware of the bewildering song the wind sung already dozens of times into her ear, whenever she flew with Azriel, which had sadly stopped after the fateful solstice, mere ten months ago. But again, she could not complain about this heart wrenchingly deep pain she felt, could not even think about this, as her ears were to pick up some useful information.

Though as for right now, all she heard was the billowing laugh of males gathered around a giant, cackling, bone fire. Clanking their overfilled mugs together over a good old warriors’ tale one of the males told with great passion, as he showed and demonstrated on the chilly evening air how he had, already hundreds of times, broken the neck of his opponents, in a twisting motion, as if he merely opened a bottle of wine. Elain’s guts twisted at the mere thought of ever witnessing such violence, while the males gathered around the bulky warrior cheered and clapped in adoration of the great tasks he had fulfilled with this single motion, while others eagerly added their own tales and bathed in the adoration and attention their own tasks of violence granted them.

It was a sickening topic to discuss and showed just how much heart these people had here, thought Elain as she scurried between the warriors silently around the bone fire, carrying a mug of heavy ceramic in her own freezing hands as she bowed her head to each warrior and filled the beakers of those which wished for a refill. A mere lift of their massive arm, in which they held their beer, all they had to do to set the steps of the dirty slave, which Elain played, hurrying over the muddy grounds.

“Hey! You have a face?” lulled one of the warriors at her long after the delicate scythe of the moon had taken its residence in the cloak of black velvet. Elain merely ducked her head as the warrior stumbled over his own feet towards her and pressed his filthy fingers below her delicate chin, to make her look at him; “Oh you have. And what a pretty one even.” It was in that moment that she knew how those warriors could commit such acts of bloodshed, as she saw the filthy lust and pure desire burn, as high as the bone fire, behind the males’ green eyes as he merely saw a piece of meat he would devour tonight. The seer had to bite back her scowl, while her gaze, innocent and submissively, lowered itself to the ground again, pleasing the male in front of her as he merely swung and arm around her shoulder and moved her forward to mother knows where.

Her nerves were at edge as he stumbled one drunken step and another one forward, weighing her delicate shoulder with his massive form as he seemed to use the seer more than a walking stick instead of a sweet companion he wanted to coax into his bed and be a lovely toy of great service to him. But who was she to complain? Elain herself merely wondered how many steps the Illyrian could continue taking, until the alcohol, which she had poured him, slowly started to completely take over his and let him forget everything.

However, it had not taken long before those questioned thoughts became reality, a small root – seemingly delicate, yet osseus- peaked out of the ground and let those booted feet trip over the little bow it formed. A yelp of surprise was all that left the males mouth as he fell – and stayed there. Resting, snoring like an infant, on his stomach on the earth.

Elain could do nothing to hide that smirk on her thin lips. Looks like as if fourteen beakers of wine, mixed with beer, were enough to send an overgrown bat, like Nesta loved to mock Cassian, high into the clouds and rest for a good old nap. Which gave Elain time and freedom to scry for what she needed.

It hadn’t taken no more than five minutes for the clever seer to find the tent she was searching for. Glooming, covered in a blanket of beige, did it stand under the moonlight and practically beckoned her to come closer as those heavy curtains billowed in the freezing wind.

There was no hesitance in Elains silent steps as she slipped into the waiting gorge of the specious tent. All sorts of hidden gems -papers, maps, lists which harboured the names of the next females who would lose their wings- ready to be discovered by the gentle flower grower, who had merely watched out this evening to find a male stupid enough to not know his limits while he would hopefully lead her deeper into the camp.

A thing of secret, loving beauty at his arm as no one would suspect a thing while she silently noted and judged every step which was taken on these grounds. Something the twins had been drilling into her as they claimed that Azriel himself had punctured this into their very skulls.

Azriel, her heart jumped and leaped in joy as she finally allowed the name of this lovely male back in her mind, as she had not let that happen ever since this fateful solstice. This sweet name, those lovely memories, all tainted by a mere string of whispered words which brawled their way into the very core of her body It was a mistake.

Her lithe hands flinched away from the stack of papers she scurried through, as her heart was stabbed with the force of a daggers blade, bleeding silently out inside her chest while she read through paper after paper. A distraction which carried her too far under as those pointed ears of hers did not here the steps of heavy boots trotting through the mud closer and closer to the tent; “Is she captured?” “No not yet sir.”

Elain’s heartbeat ran a hundred miles as she heard those voices louder and louder, their shadows already stretching below the little slit which led to the outside, while the seer could merely panic. Looking around and onto each and every surface she could hid behind or under, but all that she could chose were the desks on which her noisy fingers just rummaged through pile and pile of paper. The only problem was that, even if they were of a size even Rhys and Feyre would envy but was the chosen space for the chair all open. No piece of wood would hide her away and as she already braced herself to winnow did the shadow at the tents entrance rise and rise.

A solid form of night stepping out of the pool of flitting shadows with graceful steps, while those piercing eyes of his skimmed over the room ever the briefest, landing once and for all on her.

There was a taut string between them as both stared into each other’s faces for the longest of time, which they could allow themselves, before Azriel turned his head away to look behind his massive shoulders. A flicker of a question, as bright as all seven of his siphons, danced for a second in his eyes, just like the shadows around those wonderous wings of his, but the moment was broken as soon as she heard those booming voices again.

Elain had known something like that would happen, had felt it creep up to her in her dreams just before she woke, but she did not stray from her path. Did not let anything bad happen if she could prevent it and if her own fate was on the line – she could handle it. Hundreds of fae and human alike had put their life in danger, it was time to repay them.

But before she could steel her spine and look with the greatest of disgust into the face of he two males which would bring her death, did Azriel take two long strides, swept her up in his strong arms and whisked them away into the realm of shadows only to hide in the darkness behind the massive desk.

And apparently did they work just on time as those two males entered the specious room filled of cards and secrets.

It was weird seeing them, a veil of black dust seemingly hiding those two males as if they were a bride who just anticipated the touch of their beloved groom to lift that layer of fabric between them. Elain wondered if it would feel just the same, touching the shadows as if they were a layer of chiffon, but Azriel held her back as she stretched out those pale fingers. His marred flesh caressing hers as his hand clutched tightly around her wrist; “Don’t.” whispered his ravenous voice against the shell of her ear. This strong body of his still pressed against her, fitting this delicate frame of Elains body as if he was a missing puzzle piece finally locking into the right spot, while those two males kept on talking. Exchanging names of the females which were soon to be clipped and the date on which this crippling would take place, all information Elain had already copied onto a piece of paper.

Both fae stiffened, ready to strike, as the two Illyrians kept on talking and talking about the pleasure the humiliation of the females would bring to them, while Elain and Azriel held onto each other for dear life, as the other one with them in the shadows was their lifeline, preventing each other from committing something neither could really clarify, as this was merely an undercover mission neither the High Lord nor the High Lady knew about.

It were these strained moments between her and the shadowsinger, which made her throat log and her heart pound as loud as a war drum against her chest, but apparently was Elain not the only one with strained nerves; “What are you doing here?” pressed the shadowsinger out, the intense stare of his hazel eyes never leaving the wavering form of the males.

The seer knew that no matter if day or night, tired or woken, Azriel would always know to part a lie from the truth and so she had no use to do something as cruel as lying “Spying.” “Who thought you this?”

“A friend.” Exclaimed Elain after a pause in which she wrecked her brain on how to not call her two teachers by name, but as a little shadow had wrapped around her index finger, as soft as a cattail, did she know what her answer was. And apparently was this not a lie, as she was friends with Nuala and Cerridwen, the shadows and even Azriel, so she hoped as he did not seem to want anything else from her. Yet did his arms close further around her middle as his mighty voice growled lowly through the darkness “I figured that.”

The seer had to giggle at the unease edge in his voice, the all knowing shadowsinger for once unaware of a secret as lovely as a rose. Sweet and delicate far above of the surface, whilst her body was spiked in thorns, pricking the fingers of those who were rough and harsh on her, ripping and tearing at her roots, while her leaves and blooms caressed the ones who were gentle with her, sweet and caring. Everything the shadowsinger had once been to her.

She hadn’t even known how much she craved his presence as she was cradled into his arms once again – united with a piece of herself she hadn’t even known she was missing. But sadly, did this missing piece see her as a mistake.

Elain flinched once again at the memory of those cruel words ringing through her mind, the shadows around her rising as if they were a fountain invoked by her emotions, but Azriel’s grip on her was unfaltering, a presence of a rock in the tides as Elain whispered at him: “How long do you want to keep starring at those two?”

“Until I can see that they are leaving.” “They won’t.” “Then so do we.” The seer sighed at her stubborn friend, as the warmth of his body seeping into hers was all which held her back from going for his neck right now. “Azriel. They will discuss, for the next two hours, who of them had clipped a pair of wings the best.” The shadowsinger shuddered in her arms, if it were due to the use of his name on her tongue or the fact that these males would pride themselves with bloodshed for so long was beyond her. “You have seen it?” Elain could merely nod now, her voice clogged and caged in her throat as a scent, of sweet night chilled mist and cedar, caressed her nose with the motion.

“I need those information’s.” Was all he answered stubbornly with his jaw set as a stone, while his sweet friend shook with her head “I have them already.”

Surprise lined those godly crafted features of his as he gazed down on her. The seer offered him a charming smile, before she handed him the notes, covered in her scribbled letters, with everything she deemed as important, which was in her case everything because despite her training she was still not entirely sure of how to filter the right information from unnecessary gibberish and so she copied everything, which offered her the opportunity to see the shadowsinger bowing his head every the slightest in respect for her. “For whom are you here, Elain?”

Bracing herself with a smile as sweet as honey, as those piercing orbs of brown with swirling green and grey streaks glanced at her. “A friend and you?” This sweet smile, as little and innocent as a daisy, he offered her was a picture of pure delight while he did not let his fingers stray from her hips. Almost searing a hole through her heart and clothes as his raven voice echoed through the whispering storms of shadows “For myself.”

Elain smiled then, “Well then, Spymaster, had I helped you out well?” And as if her smile were a virus did it spread on to the sweetest pair of lips, the one pair of lips she had always wondered how they would taste on hers. Both having forgotten since a long time where they were. “Very. I might consider handing some of my work over to you.”

Both of them giggled then, as they stood safely and secure amidst the dark sea of shadows, like two rays of sunshine, competing for who shone brighter, as Azriel let the shadows whisk them away. An inferno spreading as those calm waves of darkness washed over them, whisking them far away to a secure place, while Azriels lips lingered on the seer’s sweet forehead.

A thing of secret,lovely beauty blooming already between them, as not even the lurking clouds of hundreds and hundreds of unspoken words could make the thriving blooms between the seer and the shadowsinger welk, as there was furthermore no more missions which either one acted on alone.

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Taglist (If I forgot someone or anyone wants to be added, just message me):

@gracie-rosee

@heirofthrnightcourt004

@galenamineralsbismuth

#elriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elain #spy elain #azriel #spymaster #nuala and cerridwen #secret mission #spies at work #day3 spies at work #tension #forbidden love #illyrian

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the-young-and-forgotten · 4 years ago

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Christmas With You

@just-a-belgian-girl’s request: okay so bc you said i could send in a christmas request: can i request a fic for either remus or sirius (your pick) where reader learns he doesn’t have anyone to go home for christmas to? like, the other marauders don’t know that and they’ve left already, and he’s left all alone. so reader invites him to come spend christmas with her and her family. he accepts, and her family is just so accepting and loving bc both boys definitely deserve it and cute fluffy ending?

Walking into the Great Hall, you see Sirius picking glumly at his food. The Hall was relatively empty because everyone had gone home for christmas. You, sirius and two third year hufflepuffs were the only ones left at the school.

You sit down on the bench next to him in silence. A few minutes crawl by, you grow extremely bored of it. “Wrackspurt got your tongue?” you say out of the blue. He finally looks at you, eyes glittering in amusement. “Wrack-what?” You wave away the question, answering with one of your own.

“Why are you alone? Where are the rest of the boys?”

He sighed and went back to picking at his food. “They had to go home. Their families wanted them to spend some time at home.”

“Oh.” You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly and open your mouth to say something, before Sirius speaks over you. “Tell me, why aren’t you at home?” You laugh aloud at that.

“I thought I wasn’t going home this christmas, so I didn’t catch the train. Turns out I am, so my parents had to arrange with Dumbledore for another one.”

Sirius stares at you intently before asking another question. “What time does your train leave?” “11am tomorrow.” He nods his head in understanding, offering you some of his untouched plate. Picking up a small piece of toast you pop it into your mouth. “Say” You speak through the food in your mouth. Sirius takes one look at you and makes a revolted face. You laugh and quickly swallow before continuing where you left off.

“My family has a spare bedroom, if you want to come over for christmas! They wouldn’t mind!” Sirius’ face lights up in poorly contained excitement. “Really?! You mean it?” He grabs your hand, bouncing up and down in his seat, making you laugh. “I gotta warn you though, my family can be very crazy and loud.”

...

The two of you stood outside Hogsmeade station, waiting for the train. Sirius was feeling more nervous than he cared to admit. ‘What if her family didn’t like him? What if he messed everything up? What if -’ “Hey!” You say, interrupting his thoughts, “feeling nervous?”

He smiles weakly, grateful for the distraction. “Just a little bit.” “Don’t worry” You give him a friendly shove, “I’m sure my family’s gonna love you.”

By the time the train rolled up, you were frozen to the bone. Running onto the train, you instantly sigh with relief when the hot air hits you. Sirius follows behind, looking green. “Who knew the guy who has won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup for the last 6 years would be nervous to meet a girls family?”

He looks away, pouting “Shut up..” he mumbles.

Shaking your head, you take him by the hand, dragging him the compartment you and your friends normally sit in. “Did you bring anything to do?” You inquire. “It’s gonna be a long 8 hours.” He spreads himself out on the seat opposite you. “I figured I would just sleep most of it.” You pull out your book and settle into your seat. “You do that then.”

Even though Sirius said he was going to sleep, he goaded you into playing a few games of chess. Needless to say, he was an extremely sore loser. “You cheated. Go to jail.” “But that's Monopoly” “Yeah, there’s a jail now. Go to it.” Then he flipped the board. You discontinued playing.

Halfway through the ride, He decided to run up and down the train to stretch. Of course fell over and almost broke his arm. So he just lay there for the rest of the way and slept.

When the train pulled into Kings Cross Station, you stepped on him to wake him up. He tried to grab your foot to pull you down, but he just succeeded in injuring his hand even more. He finally got up, complaining.

As soon as you stepped off the train you felt almost every bone in your body crack. “Try and sound more like a glowstick there love.” Sirius remarked, walking next to you. You just stared him down and cracked your neck.

You turn away before he could retaliate, looking around for your parents. They were in the corner, looking as nervous as the first day they brought you here. “Mum! Dad!” You run up to them, wrapping them in a big hug. You turn back to Sirius and grab his hand to pull him closer. “This is my friend Sirius, he didn’t have anyone to go home to so I brought him home with me.”

Sirius felt even more nervous than before, struggling to meet their eyes. When he did look up, he found them smiling broadly at him. Your mum stuck out her hand to Sirius “I’m Marie Deverport but please just call me Marie, my husband is Samuel.” Sirius hesitantly shook it, absolutely filled with butterflies.

“We’re happy you’re spending Christmas with us! Though, we would’ve liked a little more of a heads up before.” She looked pointedly at their daughter, who hung her head in shame. “But now matter now” Samuel said, waving you and Sirius through the barrier. “Let’s get home.”

When you arrived at your house, Sirius started staring at it in wonder. “It’s so small… small and cosy-looking.” He rushed up the drive, eager to investigate. As soon as it opened, three little kids ran out, screaming at the top of their lungs. They surrounded you, smothering you in hugs and kisses. They kept glancing back at Sirius, whispering stuff which you just laugh off, blushing a little.

Marie let Sirius into the house, telling Y/n to show him around. You walk up to him, hair frazzled and panting a little. “Sorry, my siblings are a handful.” He smiles down at you “I love them.” You smile back at him and lead him up the stairs to his room.

You lean against the doorframe, as he inspects his room. “Christmas Day is a few days. It’s gonna be hectic around here. Sorry about that.” He turns to wink at you “You know I thrive on chaos” you laugh and shove yourself off the frame. “I’ll leave you to unpack now.”

...

Sirius was loving every minute he spent here. From making burning gingerbread cookies, to showing your siblings how to skate. He wished he could stay in this Christmas forever.

Soon, Christmas Day came. Sirius woke up to you frantically dancing around his room singing ‘it’s Christmas’ all in one note. Once he was awake enough for you, you dragged him down to the tree where the two of you and your siblings covered the floor with wrapping paper.

He was overwhelmed by the gifts he got from both his Hogwarts friends and your family. He stood up and asked if he could stand outside for a bit. Outside he drank in the fridged air. Eyes closed, face tilted up towards the cloudy sky. The snowflakes tickled his face, but he didn’t care.

Yeah sure, he had the boys. He had Hogwarts. He had Potter Manor. But never in a million years did he think that a small, mostly muggle family would accept him. Someone who’s family had been killing their kind for centuries. These last few weeks had been so calm and simple for him. For the first time in his life, he lived without magic and saw the beauty in it.

He heard the front door and close softly from behind him. He hastily wiped off the few tears he had on his cheeks. You walked up to stand next to him in the falling snow.

“You okay Siri?” “Yeah, just… overwhelmed.” You snort a little “Overwhelmed by what?” “Just how a simple muggle family can accept me, someone who has come from the longest line of dark wizards and witches.” “Yeah, but you’re not them Sirius.” “I know.” “So stop thinking you are and Just be Sirius. No pure-blood, no Black. Just one of the infamous Marauders.”

The words cut deep, making him emotional again. He looked at you, the snow was in your hair and caught in your eyelashes. You looked ethereal. He blushed a little. When did you start looking this beautiful?

He opened his mouth to say something to distract himself, but you beat him to it. “Let’s go inside now yeah? I don't want to catch a cold and I want you to enjoy the rest of Christmas with me.”

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Taglist: @just-a-belgian-girl @loonyvee @kashishwrites @lilgoddesshines @probably-peeves

#sirius black #Sirius x reader #sirius x reader imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader drabble #Sirius x reader Christmas fic #Sirius x reader fluff #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius x reader fanfiction #Christmas request #Sirius x reader one shot

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thirstystarkey · 4 years ago

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HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.

Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat

CHAPTER 13

JJ 🏄🏼‍♂️: Come outside vertically challenged

The buzz from the text message caught Y/N attention, it was a calm afternoon, she had just finished her lunch and was appreciating her time alone, the pogues had nothing planned for today so she thought everyone was doing there own thing. That until her phone proved her otherwise.

She texted JJ why to which he was pretty quick to respond a simple “just come outside”, and she did after putting on her black combat boots. Most of the times Y/N wore dresses and war boots like JJ called them or vans.

“Finally!” JJ complained for the two minute wait.

“I’m staring to think you’re the one who actually misses me.” Y/N stated leaning into the door frame. “Can’t spend a day without me now can you JJ?”

“I wanna show you something.” He said. “Take you somewhere.”

“A date?” She asked playfully crocking her brows.

“If you want it can be a date.” JJ laughed. “Now, will you give me the pleasure to join me in this lovely day?” The blue eyed boy tried his best at politely asking her out which made both laugh.

JJ and Y/N walked calmly side by side, at a pleasant rythem. The soft summer breeze blowing through them like a kind gesture of affection from Mother Earth. Their hands brushed against each other a couple of times making both of them blush at the sudden touch. Holding hands was such a innocent yet intimate share of affection that left both of them speechless. Never in a million years would Y/N thought about how’d it felt to hold JJ’s hand or how is soft hot skin felt against hers but since the slightest touch that thought hadn’t leave her mind. She didn’t understood why and she was too headstrong to not fight it, but fighting the urge to hold his hand was eating her alive from the inside out. JJ felt the same thing as well.

“Hmm..” JJ wanted to talk but it seemed like the words got stuck in his throat. “Can I or do you mind if I do this?” He questioned softly brushing his fingers with hers to get a feel of her reaction, Y/N smiled shyly and JJ held her hand from that moment on.

“Where are you taking me?” The girl asked JJ after a moment of just walking in each other presence, which turned to be actually enjoyable.

“It’s a surprise miss.” He winked. “We’re almost there don’t worry.”

JJ planned to take Y/N to a rather secret and calm place down the shoreline, where a abandoned small ship layed to rest and rot. In the warm shallows of a mellow sea lies the wreckage of the ship, once the proud possession of a rich merchant hundreds of years ago. She's in a slightly roughened condition, but bigger and bigger holes do start to appear. It's a quiet, watery grave, but , for better or worse, a wide range of corals adorn her. In turn, many small creatures live among and around the corals. It was a beautiful sight to see. JJ found it his safe space away from everyone. That boy never felt really safe throughout his whole life, but one day out of luck he found it, exploring the shoreline beyond where no one usually went. It seemed like another dimension, so quietly and peaceful away from the nosy beach and harsh waves, Y/N had never been there before even though she lived there her entire life. Her mouth fell open with the view.

“How long has this been here?” She asked JJ still surprised.

“Ever since I can remember.” He said. “I’ve always loved this place.”

“I can see why.” She smiled mersmerized but by everything.

“Come sit.” He grabbed her hand again to pull Y/N in the direction of a small life guard house who by the looks of it seemed pretty much abandoned as well. The soft white paint fading gradually as the years went by.

Sitting down by the makeshift balcony, with legs swaying in the air freely they rested. The ocean air embracing them in a tranquil atmosphere. JJ looked at her, watching carefully. Y/N had her eyes closed with a soft expression, lips curls upwards and hair flowing wild into the wind, her curls looked like golden feathers and her white dress made her look like an angel in JJ’s most deep thought. She looked beautiful. Her full lips slightly parted glistening with the rays of sunshine in a reddish shine shade, her soft breaths. JJ knew she felt at home near the water, the ocean being her second home and it was one of the most pleasant things to experience.

“I can feel you.” Y/N opened one eye slightly, due to the sun, looking at JJ.

“Don’t thing to much of yourself.” He ramble crossing his arms, like a child.

Y/N laughed, admiring him. JJ was one of the most beautiful boys she has ever seen, if not the most, even thought she’d never admit it to him not wanting to bust his ego even more. His features seemed to be esculpited by the greek gods, with such delicacy it was impressive and hypnotizing for anyone who looked his way, but that along with his temper for chaos and taunting Y/N made him untouchable. Almost forbidden, until now. At least until he showed himself truly to her and in the last few days her world took a 360° turn about him.

“I like it.” Y/N whispered getting closer.

“You do?” He asked her. “What more do you like?” JJ cupped her jaw on his hand, gently.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, making the sleeves of her dress fall a bit more down her shoulders, looking suggestively at him. Her thoughts seemed irrational but she couldn’t look away from his lips. All the built up, all the tension throughout the years seemed like it was swallowing them, like a black hole collapsing.

Once her eyes slowly drifted up to his, who was already lost in her wondering gaze, it was over. His lips caught hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was nothing gentle once they’re lips met, she felt his hands hugging her sides, tugging on the fabric of her dress to pull her even closer to his body.

Every thought in Y/N’s head exploded to a pure, pounding white like the foam of the waves crashing in front of them, she felt the dark curl of desire begin to twist inside her, burning her soul as it spread across her body. Bending all her rules about JJ Maybank, she tried to gather her last bit of willpower to pull away one last time.

“No.” He said, bringing his lips back to hers. It was different from the previous kiss, more delicate and soft. His lips brushed against her parted ones, tongues touching slightly, which earned a low groan from the back of his throat, making Y/N give in into his arms. She didn’t want to fight her urge anymore so the red headed girl kissed him back hungrily, pulling on his open shirt to press him closer.

They stayed like that enough time to lose their breaths, pulling away just to grasp for air. Y/N didn’t recall sitting on his lap with both legs on each side of his hips, but there she was. JJ’s hands held her face on each side, caressing her pink cheeks with his rough thumbs. They had never gotten so lost in a kiss before, their foreheads touched and the tip of their noses brushed against each other, out of breath still they looked into each other’s eyes, deep into it.

Y/N’s chest moved rapidly and her hands wonder from his neck down to his chest, finding a place to rest. And then in a second the space between them exploded on more time when their lips touched again, this time like their lives depended in each other touches. JJ’s hands moved from her face to her hips, squeezing her into him which made Y/N whine into his lips. Her heart missed a couple beats, it seemed like her hands couldn’t bring him close enough for her liking.

JJ tasted her stawberry chapstick in his mouth, realizing that was what he’s been starving. JJ had kissed a million times before but non felt like these, it didn’t consume the boy alive or burned his soul. It didn’t left JJ wanting more and at the moment he couldn’t get enough of her.

Maybe it lasted a minute or maybe it lasted a hour, time almost stopped to them. All they knew was that, that kiss seemed to last forever in a ethereal moment, even the waves calmed down, breaking peaceful into the sand. Her soft skin brushed against his, driving goosebumps down JJ’s spine, she craved her hips into his like she’s Michelangelo and his something holy.

Who knew two people who supposedly hated each other could find such pleasure in a passionate shared kiss. They both knew they weren’t faking anything in that moment, they kissed because they desired each other, always have, there was no one around them not even near to fake a relationship to piss their best friends off, they knew it was real in that singular rare moment, like a bliss, but Y/N and JJ wouldn’t talk about it.

Tag list 💞

@thatsonobx @starkeybaby @this-is-bigger-than--us @tomzfrog @alotbnouf @outerbankstings @jj-maybank-stan @jellyfishbeansontoast @rafecamerondeservesbetter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @tembo-ndoto @poguebx @k-k0129 @kieinred @obxmxybxnk @stilinskiandsuch @lcil123 @fandom-phaser @sexualparkour @myrandom-fandomlife @lasnaro @kristineee-obx @sw-eat-ing @strangebirds2 @kiarascarreras @jjswhore @milamaybank @marveloucnco @downbytheouterbanks @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @annedub @drizzlethatfalls @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl @whoreforouterbanks @newhopenessie @maybebanks @poguesrforlife @shawnssongs @wastedheartcth @rudyypankow @danicarosaline @sc4rlettm @hufflepeople @merc12-us @punkrainbows @obliviatevamps @tangledinsparkles @jjmaybanksbaby

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morizoras-cave · 4 years ago

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Manners (Request)

Sherlock x gn!child!reader, John x gn!child!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Thank you for saying you’ll write for Sherlock, I appreciate it :) Could you do one where all the peeps are round for dinner (Sherly, Mycroft, Greg, John ect) and John invites his cousin round (like age 9) and she’s just like REALLY polite and even when Sherlock says something really mean from one of his deductions she just brush’s it off and forgives him for it and even Mycroft likes her (PURELY PLATONIC PEOPLE) and she asks to see the brains in the fringe and Sherlock is ECSTATIC

Warnings: none really

(A/N): the only warning here is really that i dont remember the sherlock characters THAT well. and ive totally forgotten who sherly is, so this fic must live without her hahaha

“Fuck,” John mumbled, looking at you at the entrance to 221B Baker Street. He had to take care of you today, and while he usually loved taking care of you, his niece, today was not the day he had expected.

You were the most delightful and polite girl, your mannerisms just made everyone around you smile. But John did not want you to meet the careless, brutally honest, and genius Sherlock. But today, the one damned day where he had to take care of you, there was a dinner with Sherlock, Greg, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and Mycroft (the latter had with pleasure paid for it all).

“Language,” you said, giving him a warning glare. The action was enough to make him smile. His heart melted.

“Let’s go inside then,” he said reluctantly, deciding that there was nothing he could do about it.

You entered the home, eyes glittering as you saw all the weird and unconventional items stacked on the shelves and furniture. You held your admiration, and politely brushed your shoes off on the mat, before taking them off. You then placed them in order, even taking the time to lightly push the others’ strewn-about shoes in a straight line.

John watched you with a smile. He had no idea how his aunt had produced such a person as you, but he was thankful for it.

From the kitchen loud clattering and sizzling sounds came. Sherlock popped his head out, gaze first on John, then lowering to you. John took a deep breath, knowing he had to introduce you now.

“This is Y/n. They’ve just turned-”

“9 years old..” Sherlock mumbled, looking a you with narrowed eyes. John sighed. You gave the sociopath a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m actually 9 and a half,” you walked up with him and then reached your tiny hand up for him to shake it. Sherlock looked at you, and you had no idea what he was thinking, but you hoped it was about shaking your hand.

“Lower your hand, Y/n,” Sherlock said and disappeared behind the doorway to the kitchen. You lowered your hand slowly. John was already regretting bringing you over. “A nine year old’s hands? That’s an enormous number of bacteria I could gladly live without.”

“Nine and a half year old!” you called after him, but remained positive. It was his decision to not shake your hand, and it was your duty to respect that.

You stepped further into the living room - or what was normally the living room, now just a room stuffed with a dining table that was too big for it.

“I told you all we should’ve done this at a restaurant. Or my house. Or anywhere else, really,” Mycroft, you guessed, said from his place at the table. He had a very cat-like voice, you thought.

“Yes, well, now we’re here,�� Mrs. Hudson (whom you’d met several times before, and who was always delighted to give you homemade cookies) argued. Just as she finished, you made your way up on your chair, greeting the guests with a smile.

Currently seated was you, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Greg (the police officer John had told you about), and John who was settling down beside you. Sherlock and Molly were in the kitchen, and by the sound of it, they were making soup.

“Aw, who’s this?” Greg asked, pointing at you.

“Y/n. Y/n Watson reporting for duty!” you said proudly. The people around the table aww’ed.

“They’re a charmer, huh?” Mycroft commented. John nodded at this.

“Soup’s coming in! Soup’s coming in!” Molly warned, carrying a rather heavy looking pot into the living room, holding it with some cloth. She placed it down with a ‘plunk’, and then sighed in relief. “Gosh, I thought I was gonna drop it all.”

“You were statistically very likely to drop it, you’re very lucky,” Sherlock said as he entered, sitting down on his chair at the end of the table. Molly flushed and sat down as well.

“Dig in!” she said and everyone did, hoisting some of the boiling-hot pea soup into their bowls. You made sure to compliment Molly on the soup, to which she smiled with a smile that mostly said wait-why-is-there-a-nine-year-old-here.

You kept a proper conversation with everyone at all times, making sure to bring in the quieter ones. Meanwhile, John was staring at you in adoration because you were simply overbearingly cute, but also because in his head it was very unlikely that you came from the same gene pool, yet here you were.

“She’s quite polite, this one. Children these days usually have no discipline, no manners,” Mycroft said at one point, and from what you had gathered throughout the evening, that was the closest thing to a compliment you would get from him.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes, but I think that kids my age can be very polite. Maybe you just don’t know the right kids!” you said, sipping your soup. Mycroft smiled and shook his head. Sherlock, who was sitting at the end of the table, soup untouched, seemed unamused.

“Kids are dumb. Nine year olds are dumb. Gosh, people are dumb too, and you kids are just dumber versions of already dumb people,” he said finally.

Everyone at the table turned their heads towards you, wondering if you would snap and start yelling or crying. Instead, you snickered, putting your spoon down.

“That’s a very bold statement, Mr. Holmes,” was all you said, and although you wanted to say more, you couldn’t stop snickering. Sherlock watched you, and you saw his face change. You couldn’t quite tell what it meant, but he didn’t retort.

Slowly, people fell back into conversation, and so did you. The dinner was very pleasant, and you were happy to see that you had made a good impression.

“So, Sherlock, you started cooking soup these days?” Greg pointed with his spoon to the pot, now only a quarter or so full. The noise of his spoon against the metal let out a hollow ‘clunk’.

“No, no, I was in there supervising. Making sure Ms. Molly didn’t mess with my refrigerated brain.”

At this, you gasped.

“You have a brain?” you asked breathlessly, mouth wide open, and your hands on your cheeks in shock. Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I see the brain, Mr. Holmes? Please, can I see your refrigerated brain, pretty please?” you begged, curiosity and adventurousness getting the better of you.

John opened his mouth to protest, but Sherlock came first, with a small smile, that he didn’t seem aware was on his face: “Yes, of course!”

You tried to control yourself and not run into the kitchen, but your excitement was still very visceral. You were bouncing about, unable to stand still, and doing a little victory dance every once in a while.

Sherlock opened the refrigerator theatrically, the light turning on and shining on you, as your eyes landed on the human brain.

“Wooooooooow,” you squealed, “that’s so cool- I mean, that’s very impressive..” you could hardly contain your excitement, but Sherlock couldn’t either. No one was every excited about his brain (the one in the fridge, of course, the other was often a topic of interest).

Sherlock then proceeded to give a full anatomical tour of the brain, taking it out and showing it to you up close, letting you hold it, and telling you all the facts. Meanwhile, John was having a mental breakdown, trying not to look. He knew very well that he would get in trouble with his aunt for this.

“This is the frontal lobe. If you damage it, you become like me,” Sherlock said morbidly, showing the front part of the pink nerve.

“That doesn’t sound all too bad, Mr. Holmes. You seem pretty cool,” you said passively, still fully entranced by the brain. Sherlock, however, took full note of this, eyes snapping to you immediately. He smiled.

“Alright, I think it’s about time me and Y/n head home!” John said when he’d finally had enough. You were too polite to protest, so you just quite literally bowed to everyone and then left with John.

When John came home later that night, after dropping you off back at his aunt’s place, Sherlock was still awake, brain in hand.

“Uh, doesn’t that go back in the fridge?” John asked.

“In a moment,” Sherlock responded. Then, “Why don’t they come over more? The kid.”

John looked at him in confusion. “Y/n? Why would I bring them over more?”

Sherlock sighed, turning his attention from the brain. “I feel like I could give them good anatomical knowledge. Perhaps, teach them a bit about science and such.”

There was a moment of silence and then John scoffed.

“You really just want me to bring Y/n over, because they think you’re cool?”

“That��s not at all what I said, John!” Sherlock protested, moving to put the brain back in the freezer. John sauntered off into his bedroom.

“Whatever!” he said, and then the conversation was over.

But then, slowly, he started bringing you over more, each time letting Sherlock and you have your own weird conversations on life, people, biology and everything else. You become very rich in knowledge of science and anatomy, and in return Sherlock’s ego went through the roof.

It was a fair trade, you decided, and you loved every moment of it.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh

#sherlock x reader #john watson x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock cast x reader #sherlock fluff #sherlock angst #sherlock x you #sherlock x child!reader

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restingdomface · 5 years ago

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MDZS lightsaber colours for my crossover AU

Lan Wangji: pure white handle and clear crystal for a blindingly bright fire stick. Light holder indeed. We. Do. Not. Ask. Where. The. Handle. Has. Been.

Lan Xichen: They shade a twin crystal in this AU so his is the same blade, but his handle is baby blue with pretty silver inlay. The last time he actually used the thing for anything other that sparing (before the clone wars starts cause he got sent to Coruscant to help protect the kiddos, so that thing did get used on a few clankers) was for cutting down a tree that was gonna fall over and into Jingyi’s window when lightning hit it in the middle of the night. The fact that he didn’t grow up in the Jedi temple makes all the Jedi masters wonder why he has the twin to LWJ’s saber...

Wei Wuxian: Black handle, red blade. He got a wild side eye from the Jedi masters from that back when him and LWJ were in the temple, and he still thinks it had something to do with why they refused to knight him, but he knew they never would anyways, so he shrugged and moved onto his own path anyways. The crystal is shockingly well maintained for something that’s over a thousand years old. Through most of the clone wars he’s actually not on the front lines. He’s tending to the zombie clones and creating new weapons at their encampment. He uses LSZ to heat metals instead of a furnace cause fire magic is more useful than a stupidly hot tent that he’s probably just gonna blow up anyways. He misses his hubby and plays really bad trap music through the camp loudspeakers that both annoys Dooku and also blows up clankers if they get too close. He tried to rehabilitate him and Ventress once. It worked for Ventress but Dooku tried to get in his head and WWX got annoyed and punched him before leaving him to General Kenobi to deal with. He won’t stop arguing with Qui-Gon’s force ghost about how to cook soup (can you hear Kenobi crying in the background cauee both their cooking is poison and everyones shitting to death instead of dying in the war lol) and helps Obi-Wan see him earlier than in canon.

Lan Jingyi: baby blue blade, shares a twin crystal with A-Yuan. They found it on a camping trip with WWX when they were like five. Handle is white with a baby blue band around the top. His main weapon tho, is just crying at the enemy until they get uncomfortable. One time Hondo Okana kidnapped him and he wouldn’t stop pestering him so he actually tried to sell him back to WWX who was all ‘no thanks, youre his father now, take responsibility’ and now Hondo is actually on their side cause he’s finally met someone more annoying than him.

Lan Sizhui: same as Jingyi, but his handle is white and red, since he was nostalgic when he chose it and he misses uncle Ning, but A-Die says he’s still mentally connected to WN and they’re on their way from Earth but Earth has shitty intergalactic travel rn so it takes like 150 years to get to them. WN’s probably gonna do that nearly-crying thing that zombies do when they get emotional when he sees the saber. Except, he doesn’t use it very much since he found that flame thrower... when the clones first saw him with the flame thrower they nearly shit themselves. Someone gave him a jet pack and now they’re trying to steal him from the weird cultivator clan. I mean. Wens are sorta fireproof imo so it’s okay.

Jin Ling: gold on gold babey, but with a red band around the top. But he doesn’t really use it much cause JiuJiu gave him a bowcaster and so he’s. Like. Scary. Armed child. Did you know he’s like 153 in this AU???? But he looks like a 15 year old???? When the clones saw him with a bowcaster they nearly had heart attacks wtf. Plz child youll shoot your eye out.

Ouyang Zizhen: Red and blue!!! The handle is red lol. The clones are thankful some of these babies have normal weapons but that sentiment is short lived after they watched him yeet his weapon (unlit too) at the enemy and then cry for twenty minutes. One of the medics has adopted him and is teaching him how to do field work so they don’t have to Deal With That Again.

Jiang Cheng: Listen. He showed up after WWX and the kids got kidnapped. And he’s got. An electric whip. And just fucking whipped through pure durasteel to get them out of their cages. And then stopped to throw a bitch fit that WWX actually brought the kids to this (‘They’re over 150 years old JC!’ ‘Do they look like adults to you? How many times a week does one of them ask you for a bedtime story?’ ‘...listen I didn’t LET them come here, they’re stowaways, no one’s letting them stay they’re just. There.’) and the clones that got kidnapped with them are all ‘omfg do we have to listen to their family bullshit...’ and it’s beautiful. Hot uncle with a whip and one of these clones is all ‘I would climb that but he’s shorter than me’

Lan Qiren: He IS a weapon and his effect is to make children behave. They sent him to the main Jedi temple to teach their kids some manners. The kids love him to death till they encounter punishment in the form of doing handstands while copying the Jedi code over and over. Those lucky little shits don’t even have to suffer through using a traditional calligraphy brush to copy 5000 Lan sect rules why they complaining omfg. They gonna get strong.

Jiang Yanli: poison soup. She’s really good at fucking up cargo shipments to send the sith contaminated ingredients and making them too sick to do anything. Also her saber is pink and purple. The blade is pink, the handle is purple.

Jin Zixuan: goooooooold but the blade is actually green. He also has a bowcaster but it’s an antique and he doesn’t really use it in battle.

Meng Yao: they’ve all unanimously agreed that he isn’t allowed weapons anymore. He just whines really loud for DaGe and a giant man comes out of the shadows to either scare you into running away or beat your ass. It took them like four lifetimes to get back to being their dumb gay married selves, but now they’re clingy as WangXian and MY just has to pout to get what he wants. It’s really horrible. TBH no one knows what they’re doing during the clone wars, they just show up sometimes and help out/cause trouble and everyone is all ‘oh. Okay.’ But they Always have Huaisang with them and he always stands there looking pretty and untouchable and glaring at anyone who looks at his DaGe wrong. If someone tries to hurt MY tho he’s unlikely to help lol.

Nie Huaisang: Fan and gossip and also looking at you like you’re the scum he stepped in on the way here and also you’d beg him to step on you and spank you with that fan and Jesus Christ there is a line of clones willing to ask him to do exactly that-

Nie Mingjue: THAT IS THE BIGGEST LIGHTSABER ANYONE HAS EVER SEEN IN THEIR LIVES HOW THE FUCK DID-

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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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If Only It Were That Simple

Summary: Ignis and Gladio go on a diplomatic trip together in place of Noct. They are alone and having to make do with what little amenities are available. Que some angst and a few misunderstandings, what else could happen?

---

Unable to understand why Gladio still had a smile plastered on his face; Ignis tried his best to not scream out loud. First, they’d been drenched while waiting at the train station for a ride. Then, the car that had come to get them, suffered a flat tire. Gladio had of course offered to help the lone driver in switching to the spare, which meant Ignis felt the need to get out and help as well.

So, here they were, ninety minutes later, standing in what was most likely the town hall, waiting to meet with the man in charge. This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission to strengthen ties with an outlining village north of Insomnia. The nifs hadn’t made it out that far, so the place was left relatively untouched. Ignis suspected it was left alone simply due to the fact that it was so difficult to get to! Protected by mountains and only accessible via one poorly maintained road, this village was the epitome of off the beaten path.

Working to suppress his shivers Ignis tried not to pace the small space as they waited to be seen. The driver had shown them into the cramped space and promptly disappeared. Most likely to go find whoever was supposed to greet them.

Breathing deeply through his nose, Ignis attempted to calm his nerves. They’d been chosen to come out here on Noct’s behalf. The prince’s royal advisor and shield held some clout in certain places. It made sense why Regis had been reluctant to send Noct. They were in the middle of nowhere. Any visit from the crown was good, whether or not it featured an actual royal. Ignis was proud to serve his friend and prince in any way.

Despite this sentiment, he was struggling with his emotions. He should feel special that the king trusted him enough to handle this mission. However, as the rain continued to pour down outside with no other signs of life appearing, Ignis was beginning to wonder if they were being laughed at back in Insomnia. He could almost hear Regis and Clarus debating how they’d handle the trip ‘let’s send the two youngins’ out into the field and see how they do’. His daydream of their current nightmare ended soon enough, he had other things to worry about.

When he’d first been debriefed for the mission, it had sounded like the perfect escape, a far-away place, no prince to take care of, and pure unadulterated alone time with Gladio. Now, as he fought to keep his composure, he wasn’t so sure. The part of his brain that handled his ever-growing crush on his friend, and fellow crownsguard, wasn’t being very helpful either. Having to constantly tramp down on the barrage of ‘you’re finally alone with Gladio’ thoughts was a challenge. He was on a diplomatic trip, not in some romantic fueled fantasy land.

“I see why they didn’t want to send Noct,” Gladio offered quietly as they waited. “It’s a little rough n’ tumble out here.”

“Yes, well, I don’t see why they had to send us instead,” Ignis hissed under his breath, his self-doubt kicking in.

“Aw come on Iggy, it’s an adventure. No boring council meetings or pampering a grumpy princess for the next week. Relax and have some fun.”

Ignis tried desperately to cling to those words of encouragement. He managed to survive the introductory meeting with Bhanis, the man in charge. They sat in soaked clothing for nearly thirty minutes as Bhanis talked and talked. The guy either didn’t care that they were clearly uncomfortable or hadn’t noticed. Ignis was leaning on the side of hadn’t noticed, since Bhanis’ own appearance indicated that he’d also gotten soaked through with the rain. Perhaps it was a normal occurrence in this place. Sitting around and having meetings in damp clothing.

Though, Ignis’ patience was wearing dangerously thin as the leader of the small village showed them to their rooms. Or rather a room. Turns out when you call someone by their official title and fail to add more detail, misunderstandings can happen.

Staring at the lone bed in the space Ignis tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as being rude. Thinking fast he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Is the other room nearby? I’d like to have a debriefing meeting with my collogue before dinner.”

Bhanis furrowed his brow and frowned. “This is the only room, we only have one.”

Did that mean they’d only prepared one room and they had others, or this was literally the only guest room in the whole village? “I see; might there be another room available with two beds?” Ignis tried hoping he wasn’t sounding too dense. The man had just said it was their only room.

“No, sorry, we only have this space to house our guests. Your communication only mentioned one person coming so we thought it would be alright. I think it had noted an advisor and a shield.” Bhanis paused and looked over to their bags. “Though, that’s an awfully small shield if you’ve fit it in your pack.”

Realization dawned on Ignis. They’d thought he was talking about a thing, not a person. Vowing to go back and reread his letters to Bhanis, Ignis was sure he’d clearly mentioned two people. “No problem, we will make due,” he replied with a forced smile.

“Good, good, we’re all very excited to have someone from the crown visit. Not many people make it out this way.” Bhanis announced with a grin. “Rest until dinner if you’d like, I’ll send someone to fetch you when it’s ready.”

The moment the door closed Ignis began apologizing, “I’m so sorry this has happened, I didn’t think they’d misread what I’d sent over. I can sle--.”

“Iggy, calm down, I’m not complaining,” Gladio interjected. “This is fun, it’s a new place with new things to learn.”

Groaning by way of an answer, Ignis threw himself into a nearby chair and sulked. This was his first mission away from Insomnia and he’d already screwed it up. He was only nineteen and still working hard to earn the respect of those at the citadel. Did it matter that he’d been personally chosen by the king to stand by Noct? Not to everyone else it seemed. Lost in his own mental battle, Ignis missed Gladio walking over.

“Hey Iggy, you should take a hot shower and change, hanging out in these damp clothes for too long isn’t good.”

“Hrm, oh yes, quite right. Where’s my bag?” he asked looking around in a daze.

Gladio motioned with this thumb where the bags were but didn’t step away, “You okay? You seem a little frazzled.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Hey, I’m not one of the council members, you don’t have to lie to me,” Gladio replied with a reproachful tone.

“Apologies Gladio, I’m merely lost in my own thoughts, do forgive me.”

“Go, hop in the shower, I’ll see what’s on tv, and then maybe we can relax a little before dinner.”

Taking the opportunity to be alone, Ignis quickly got up and rushed into the bathroom. Praying for hot water Ignis turned the taps on and began getting ready. He needed to get a grip. Worrying about what everyone else thought wasn’t going to help. Ignis needed to have a successful trip and not act like a total idiot in front of Gladio. How hard could that be?

Ignis discovered that not acting like an idiot was in fact, very hard. Ten minutes later as he stood with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist, he realized his mistake. The bag with his clothes was still in the room. Why did the Eos hate him today? Before he could fret any longer a knock sounded at the door.

“Hey, you forgot your bag, do you want it now?” Gladio asked.

“Yes, please, and thank you.” If his voice cracked, Gladio didn’t comment. Soon the door opened and his bag was handed off. Ignis could feel his face burning from the embarrassment of it all. Thankfully, he stayed hidden behind the door and promptly snapped it shut when Gladio’s arm was clear.

What more would he have to endure before the night was over? Then, in a flash, Ignis remembered what his brain had so craftily pushed aside earlier. There was only one bed; they were going to have to share. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue, they’d gone camping together before and shared a tent, but this was different. The camping trips had been a long time ago when they were younger before Ignis had developed his crush.

He was already feeling bad about the room mix up, the last thing he wanted to do was add to the misery by making things awkward between them. Nothing screams this is completely casual like accidentally dry humping your best friend in the middle of the night. Unsure of how to handle the situation, Ignis got dressed and put on his best ‘I’m totally fine’ face, and left the bathroom.

Surviving dinner was his first real challenge of the night. He’d weathered the aforementioned tv watching by sitting in the lone guest chair, while Gladio lounged on the bed. This place really was devoid of any luxury items, it was no wonder since they didn’t have many visitors.

Hoping that Gladio wouldn’t notice his odd mood, Ignis forged ahead and continued on with his normal duties. They were here on a diplomatic mission after all. He had to get something right before they left this six-forsaken place.

Roundabout what would have been the dessert course in a fancy meal, Gladio began to worry about Ignis. His friend was acting very odd and almost giving him the cold shoulder. He could understand if Ignis was focused on making sure he paid attention to Bhanis and the few others in attendance. That still didn’t explain why he wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

Thinking back to when they started on their journey that morning, Gladio wondered if he’d done anything to upset Ignis. Resigned to waiting until later, after they’d retired for the night, Gladio forced a smile and kept quiet. He could at least let Ignis do his job without interruption.

Thankfully, their hosts assumed they were both tired from the long day of travel and ended dinner with little fanfare. Though, Gladio wasn’t sure he was looking forward to sharing the room with Ignis anymore. The advisor held his stone-faced expression the entire walk back to their room. The rain had stopped finally, but it had turned the village into a veritable mud pile.

Sighing heavily he trudged after Ignis; whose’s shoulders were squared, in a very unfriendly gesture. It was almost as if he was going to his own death sentence. The sooner Gladio climbed into bed and fell asleep the better.

Going for the bathroom first, he got ready for bed and decided to ignore Ignis. If his friend was bothered by something, then he better damn well tell him because Gladio had no clue what he’d done wrong. Looking only at the bed when he exited the bathroom, Gladio quickly got in under the covers and rolled on his side to face the wall. He’d left enough space for Ignis, there wasn’t much more to do.

He heard Ignis clear his throat once but didn’t bother to acknowledge it. If he had something to say to him it could wait until the morning. This was bullshit. This trip was supposed to be fun, not whatever this had turned into.

“I’m going to sleep on the floor, to keep from --.”

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care,” Gladio grumbled before he could stop himself. He was upset and not in the mood to hide his emotions.

“Oh,” was all Ignis weakly managed.

Tuning out the small noises Ignis made as he got ready, Gladio tried to force himself to fall asleep. He wanted to go home and forget this whole stupid trip had ever happened. Time drug on after that, his mind refusing to calm and give him peace. Every little breath or sigh from Ignis felt amplified in the tiny room. Gladio wasn’t even sure Ignis had lain down yet.

Gladio knew he wouldn’t be able to get a proper night's rest if he let whatever this was fester. Sighing loudly he flipped over and scooted closer to the other edge of the bed. “Hey, I can’t go to sleep when we’re mad at each other, think you cou--.”

“Mad?! What? Oh, astrals I’ve really screwed things up haven’t I,” Ignis spit out as he resituated himself on the floor. Gladio had been correct Ignis was still sitting up and leaning against the bedframe.

“What are you talking about? What did you screw up?”

“This whole trip is my first diplomatic endeavor and I’ve gone and screwed up the accommodations and I don’t think Bhanis likes me, and now you’re mad at me.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, what do you mean I’m mad at you? You started it.” Gladio huffed while waving his arms around frantically.

“I’m not mad at you,” Ignis replied sincerely.

“Then why the hell are you acting like a dolt, come on get up off the floor and get a proper night's rest.” Before Ignis could comment Gladio had reached out and grabbed his arm. “Come on, up you get.” Being strong helped when manhandling a slightly dazed person. Ignis tried to fight him but eventually gave up and allowed Gladio to drag him onto the bed.

Pulling the covers up with a quick pat on Ignis’ chest, Gladio smiled at his handy work. “There now you’ll sleep better.”

“I’m sorry I made you think I was mad at you.”

“Don’t sweat it, next time let’s talk sooner. I think I understand why you were freaking out earlier though. I didn’t get how upset you were about the room.”

“I don’t want everyone to laugh at me,” Ignis whispered after a moment. “I’m supposed to be Noct’s advisor and I can’t even handle simple room accommodations.”

“Seriously Iggy, that’s a load of bullshit, you are great at your job. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Are you actually worried about this, how the hell would anyone find out anyway?”

“You mean about the room?”

“Yeah, I doubt Bhanis is going to send a letter to the king about how you should’a booked two rooms. I mean they don’t even have more available. The only thing that would have changed is maybe bringing a sleeping bag or somethin’” Gladio paused and waited for Ignis to think about what he was saying. “I wouldn’t have let you go alone so don’t go assuming that outcome either.” When Ignis finally laughed, Gladio knew he’d broken through the fog that had consumed his friend most of the evening.

Even in the dim light from the night sky outside, Gladio could make out Ignis’ face clearly. He still had a smile on his lips and that made Gladio feel so much better. “So we good now, no more weird shit?”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry about making you feel like I was mad at you, it wasn’t my intention. I was simply lost in my own head.”

“I don’t like it when you’re angry, you have enough stuff to stress about in life as it is. Now, relax and get some sleep.”

Ignis hummed in response and let out a deep breath. It seemed he was starting to calm down in an attempt to sleep. Rolling back over himself, Gladio closed his eyes and promptly passed out.

For the first time in ages, Ignis awoke feeling well-rested and warm. The body pillow he usually used was very comfortable this morning. Not paying much attention to the improvement he slowly opened his eyes and froze. He was not at home in his own bed; he was hundreds of miles from Insomnia, currently draped over Gladio like a bloody blanket.

Why had he not slept on the damn floor?! Swallowing hard Ignis breathed in once and attempted to slowly pull away. This was when he became aware of Gladio’s muscled arm holding his shoulder. Six, was he actually using the shield’s arm as a freaking pillow? Figuring he could slide out from the bottom of the bed, Ignis began to wiggle ever so slightly.

However, when he went to untangle one of his legs that was wrapped around Gladio’s thigh, something terrible happened. Gladio moved.

“Oi, where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled before swiftly rolling over and pinning Ignis beneath him.

“For—forgive me I didn’t realize,” Ignis stammered.

“Is that why you wanted to sleep on the floor last night?” Gladio asked nonchalantly, his expression almost smug in nature.

“Shit,” was all Ignis’ brain could conjure, “shit, shit, shit.”

“Oh really, that bad huh?” Gladio replied with a smirk as he rolled his hips.

Ignis had been thinking of what he could say, but Gladio’s simple movement caused his brain to short circuit. What had been the start of morning wood, before the shield surprised him, came back full force. Unable to bite back the moan at the sensation, Ignis turned his head in embarrassment. Maybe if he closed his eyes he’d wake up from this nightmare.

“Iggy, Ignis, come on, look at me,” Gladio requested after a moment. “Get outta your own head, look at what I’m doin’ to you right now!”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ve got you pinned to a fucking bed and I’m enjoying it.”

That statement got Ignis’ attention, Gladio was enjoying it too. Feeling like a colossal idiot Ignis opened his eyes again and looked directly up into the two amber eyes staring at him with lust. “I’m afraid my skills of observation aren’t working as they should be,” he mumbled hoarsely.

Gladio barked out a laugh and grinned, “No shit Sherlock.”

Ignis watched as Gladio’s grin faded into something softer. The shield was slowly closing the gap between them. His eyes were darting up and down, most likely caught on Ignis’ lips. He could attest to that desire as his own gaze flickered between Gladio’s eyes and his mouth.

“Can I – can I kiss you?” Gladio breathed out, barely audible.

Ignis didn’t bother answering; he rushed up to meet Gladio’s mouth instead. It was like a dam breaking, he couldn’t get enough of the shields lips on his skin. They spent the next few minutes trading kisses like drowning men. All the while Gladio continued moving his hips around. It was almost too much to handle, but somehow not enough at the same time.

Reaching up to pull at Gladio’s hair, Ignis was working to remove his t-shirt when a knock sounded at the door. Freezing in place, Ignis waited. Whoever it was knocked again and announced that breakfast was ready. Listening intently to the sound of steps walking away, Ignis let out the breath he was holding. “We can’t, not right now. We can’t keep them waiting,” he rasped.

“That’s okay, I mean, we’ll be sharing the bed again tonight,” Gladio teased as he claimed one last kiss before breakfast.

Gladio couldn’t believe his luck. He’d always entertained the idea of liking Ignis as more than a friend. The time and place hadn’t come about to broach the subject until he’d woken up with Ignis clinging to him. Never having seen his friend look so peaceful before, Gladio had taken the time to enjoy the moment before Ignis woke up.

Even after he’d made his move Ignis still doubted the facts in front of his perfect face. Watching him practically melt into the bed was such a rush. Now, his only issue was how to act professionally in front of their hosts for the rest of the trip, when all he wanted to do was kiss Ignis silly.

Despite Ignis’ attempt to get them ready in a timely manner, they were still late for breakfast. Not by much, mind you, but enough to make Ignis glare at him across the table as they ate. This time Gladio could tell the look had no heat behind it. Most likely because the reason for their tardiness had to do with the mini make-out session they’d managed after brushing their teeth.

Gladio almost forgot they were here for other reasons when Bhanis started talking about their excursion for the day. They’d be visiting a farm in the mountains and not returning until later that evening. Curious as to what was so important that merited an all-day trip, Gladio easily listened to Bhanis as they all walked outside.

Grinning excitedly when he spotted a few motorcycles in their path, he turned to Ignis to comment but stopped dead when he noticed Ignis’ expression. Ignis was wide-eyed and looking at him imploringly. He knew Ignis knew how to drive a car among many other types of vehicles, why would a motorcycle freak him out.

Stalling so Ignis could catch up, he raised an eyebrow in hopes Ignis would spill the beans. “I don’t know how to ride!” he hissed quietly.

“Oh, that’s easy, start looking in your satchel, think like a nerdy professor,” Gladio offered before he strode away towards Bhanis. “I love to ride, which one do we get to use?” he asked happily.

“They are all the same, please choose anyone you like.”

“Great, I think Ignis and I will fit on that one alright,” Gladio announced while pointing to the nearest bike.

“Oh, you don’t have to share this time,” Bhanis laughed. “Bikes we have plenty of, just not extra rooms.”

“Nice, but I think Ignis really wanted to document the trip and he’d be better able to do that if he wasn’t driving.” Looking over to Ignis, Gladio waved his hand around to indicate the scene before them. Ignis picked up quickly and pulled out his phone and a notepad.

“Yes, I was hoping to get a good record of the trip, can the bike handle two riders?”

“Oh sure, that makes sense,” Bhanis replied easily. “We’re very excited to have more people know about our efforts here.”

Nothing more was discussed as they got on the bikes and started out. Gladio could tell that Ignis was relieved at not having to learn a new skill in less than five minutes. Though, he was sure the advisor would have picked up the basics in no time.

The ride was rough over the rocky terrain, which made handling the bike a little tricky. He knew things were getting bad when Ignis would squeeze his legs together slightly as if silently telling him to be careful. After about forty minutes a small building came into view, followed by a long wooden fence. Given how far out from civilization they were, nothing could have prepared Gladio for what lay on the other end of the fence.

“You breed chocobos?” he asked in disbelief when a whole herd of the birds crossed their path a few minutes later.

“There must be hundreds of them,” Ignis added as they took in the sight.

Bhanis smiled proudly as they looked over the landscape filled with the giant birds. “Yes, this is how we make our living.”

“Why don’t more people know about this?” Gladio asked in wonder.

“We use third-party sellers to broker deals, so that means not very many people make it out here.”

“Forgive my lack of understanding, but how do you manage to sell enough birds to make it profitable?” Ignis asked kindly.

“Ah, our birds are raised in the best conditions,” Bhanis announced. “The mountain air helps them gain a cold tolerance that other breeds don’t have, and we feed them nothing but the highest quality food.”

“I see, so that makes your birds desirable over other breeders.”

“Exactly, our birds are the best you can buy.”

“Hey, wait a minute, do you all specialize in anything, like race birds?”

Bhanis’ grin grew even bigger; it was all starting to make sense. They were visiting a premiere chocobo racing breeder. No wonder it paid the bills, racer birds went for thousands of gil.

“What other jobs can the birds do?” Ignis asked quickly, Gladio could tell his mind was working overtime.

“Oh they’re sturdy; if the crown were to ever need any good birds for the military we’d be happy to be your supplier. You can’t get a better chococbo than this.” Bhanis supplied as he looked out over the sea of feathers and yellow beaks.

“I would very much like to discuss this with you in greater detail,” Ignis added excitedly. “I can see us having an en excellent partnership in the future.”

The rest of the day flew by after that. Ignis spent their time at the farm taking pictures and talking to farmhands. They even had a chance to see a rare black chocobo, the bird was truly magnificent and seemed to like Ignis. It would follow him around as they toured the farm. The spunky bird even tried to steal his glasses at one point. The advisor ducked out of the way just in time and promptly put his glasses away for safekeeping.

They ate as the sun began to lower into the afternoon sky, Bhanis wanted to get back to the village before sundown so they’d have to leave soon.

Gladio was happy to see Ignis finally getting into the trip. It seemed the prospect of bringing back such a treasure trove of information to the king had made him feel better. The ride back was pleasant enough, despite the bumps and dust in the air. Thankfully, Bhanis had given them visors to wear during the ride, it kept most of the debris away. Though Gladio was sure his hair was one giant knot and Ignis looked really cute all windswept and rosy-cheeked.

He wanted to get back to their room and pick up where they’d left off that morning. They had so many things to catch up on and discover. Overall, this trip was a success; Gladio knew Ignis would get high praises for his efforts when they returned home. Brokering a deal for military stock chocobos would ensure a leg up if they went to war with Niflheim. He was proud of Ignis and how he handled everything. The advisor was a hard worker, and Gladio hoped he would be able to show him how much he admired him. They were at the beginning of a new adventure together, one that Gladio couldn’t wait to get started.

Thirteen Years Later

The sun glittered across the newly installed glass of the citadel as Ignis stood waiting for Gladio. He had a lunch packed for them and was ready to get going. They were exploring some of the outlining areas of Insomnia to check the damage level. Life was bustling again for most of the city, but some areas still hadn’t started rebuilding.

When the rumbling of a loud engine reached his ears, Ignis looked up and watched Gladio ride across the parking lot on a comfortable looking cruiser motorcycle. Smiling at his lover, Ignis then turned to wave goodbye to Noct. The king insisted on seeing them off since he was still a little clingy after being stuck in the crystal for ten years.

The king narrowed his eyes and pointed to the bike when it rolled to a stop in front of them. “Why only one bike, you know how to rid--,”

“Shhh,” Ignis interjected smoothly.

“What, excuse me, did you just shush me?!” Noct exclaimed. “I only wanted to know why you aren’t riding your own bi--.”

“Nahhhhhh Majesty, shhh.” Ignis could hear Gladio laughing behind him.

“Leave him alone princess, he wants to ride with me.”

“You too are so gross, don’t forget to take pictures,” Noct chided. “And I mean pictures of the city not of you two making out and being cuddly.”

“What, no pictures at all?”

“Nooooo, I’m already a nervous wreck when you two go out exploring without me, be safe, and have fun okay.”

“Will do majesty, don’t give Prompto too much of a hard time, he’s a good stand-in shield, let him do his job.”

“Yeah, yeah, heard, get outta here before it gets too late.”

With a simple nod, Gladio and he set off into the morning light, ready to explore their newly liberated city. Life had been rough, but they’d handled it the best way they knew how. Together.

Relaxing into the seat Ignis closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the wind in his hair and Gladio’s sturdy body between his thighs. This was going to be a fun day.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691978

#ffxv #fanfic #gladnis #gladio #ignis

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years ago

Text

Starlight

Read on AO3

“Watch your step,” John says guiding her with both hands through the trees carefully. He walks backwards facing her, checking back behind him every now and then to make sure he doesn’t bump them into anything.

“You know I could just open my eyes, that would make this a whole lot easier,” Zatanna says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach as high as it usually would, her eyes still tightly shut.

“Now that would make it far less of a surprise now wouldn’t it?” he says with a chuckle guiding her carefully over a large patch of jaded edged rocks.

It’s been a long day. Their not so departed former best friend had made things a living hell for them once again, trapping each member of their team in their worst memory forced to relive it over and over again. One of these days he’s gonna send that fucker to hell, again.

Andrew, Boston and Xanadu have their own ways of coping taking whatever time they need and John is better at repressing than anyone. But Zatanna, she’s so good in her bones sometimes, so worried about everyone else that she forgets to worry about herself.

She hadn’t said what Necro made her see, but John knows. She watched her father burn right before her eyes again and again. She’s not fine, even if she says she is, but John intends to ensure she is just a little bit.

So he’s brought her here, to a spot he knows will at least put a little light back in her eyes.

He comes to a stop just a bit away from a cliffs edge and reaches out squeezing her waist lightly before slipping behind her. His arms slide around her and on autopilot she rests her hands atop his. He looks up at the sky and out beyond the cliff. To the average eye this space is just a nice bit of starlight in a crystal clear night sky, untouched by the pollution of the city or the smog brought on by mankind.

But to them, to the magical eye, it’s so much more. This place isn’t connected to the green, or the sky isn’t at least, he supposes the forest itself is. It’s just a pure magical phenomenon that has lingered for centuries outside of this small coastal town in Norway. Magics of every shape and size and level of power have been coming here for centuries, most often on solstices, to pull from the inherent power that exists. Whether they revel in the magical glow or simply just watch it and feel it wash over them this place is beloved by people with power like theirs.

“Alright luv,” he says squeezing her soft hands with his own callous ones. A chill in the air blows across them and she shivers. He pulls her in a little closer, keeping her as warm as he can with how he always runs a little hot all that hellfire in his veins never quite simmering.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers into her ear and watches as she slowly blinks those dark blues of hers open. There’s a little sadness lingering in them that he hopes to wipe away even if it’s only for a few hours.

She looks at the expanse before her and her eyes light up. A kaleidoscope of color swirls through the sky, swirling shapes of magical sigils of protection, hope, love and everything in between moving by. The rainbow magic swirls up and then down, washing over where they stand near the edge almost like it’s saying hello.

“Woah,” Zatanna says as the swirls roll up back into the sky moving in a dance to music only the magic knows across the sky. John smiles for a moment kissing her shoulder lightly through the layers of his shirt that she’s still wearing and his old jacket that she stole.

He knows she knows where they are, even if she’s never been here, so he skips any sort of history lesson just picking a personal favorite that he knows will make her smile.

“In the 1700’s the witches who escaped the Salem trials settled nearby and used to come here every solstice to harness the inherent magic and increase their power through tantric sex magic,” he says playfully nipping at her jaw.

Zatanna laughs nudging his head with her own.

“You know you don’t have to suggest tantric sex magic just to get in my pants right?” Zatanna says smiling a smile that finally reaches her eyes. He hides a smile of success in the crook of her neck.

“Oh I know,” he says voice slightly muffled by the collar of her jacket. He pulls his head back placing a light teasing kiss on her temple. “It’s just a fun way to do it.”

Zatanna snorts. “Ridiculous,” she says more fondness directed at him than he ever thought he’d hear from someone. She’s a gift Zatanna Zatara and if this little trip and that little quip put the light back in her, then he’ll happily keep on being ridiculous.

He slips out from behind her and entangles their fingers together pulling her along closer to the edge. He sits down on the edge slinging his legs over it and encouraging her to join him. She looks over the edge and sees the faint lines of the protective barrier the keeps anyone like them from falling and smiles.

She settles down next to him curling her legs up slightly into his lap. He wraps an arm around her pulling her close and she settles her head on his chest eyes trained at the sky. She reaches out a hand and rests it on his thigh rubbing her fingers in slow circles.

They sit quietly watching the magic flow through the sky, putting on a private little show just for them. The moon is high in the sky by the time either of them says anything else.

“Thank you for this,” she says so quietly John can barely hear her over the rustle of the trees and slow chirp of crickets. He pulls her into his side impossibly closer bringing his other arm over to tangle his fingers with hers that still rests on his thigh.

She doesn’t need to thank him, a trip like this for someone who he’d do anything for is easy. Maybe someday they can come back and it won’t be because they’ve had a hell of a day that they needed to recover from. Maybe they can see if the Salem witches were up to some good ideas sometime. But for now this is nice, this is what she needs and what he needs and what they both deserve. Quiet, magic, peace. Two of those things being all too rare in their lives.

“Anything for you,” he says and the magic washes back in over them with sigils of peace and love, warm glows of red, orange and yellow settling on their skin.

#my fic #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara

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vocalyunho · 5 years ago

Text

Warm Sunset

Pairing: Hongjoong x Female Reader Genre: fluff, smut Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: explicit unprotected sex

Anon who requested this, I hope it’s okay that the reader doesn’t paint a portrait of Hongjoong, but smth that reminds her of him.

Hongjoong’s birthday is next week and he’s always talked about how he’d love to have one of your paintings in his apartment...to admire it whenever he wanted, to always remember how talented of a girlfriend he has, to have it on the wall so everyone can see it and, maybe, now it’s time to create something absolutely and only for him.

Since you’re living alone in an apartment that’s more than enough for one person, you’ve turned one of the biggest rooms into your personal atelier. It’s not a massive workplace, it’s just a little bigger than a normal bedroom, but it fits all your art belongings perfectly. However, it’s not the cleanest place someone would lay eyes on...paint has gotten everywhere through the years and canvases lie here and there on every corner of the room. The tools are, also, soiled with paint because most of them have been with you since when you started painting but, truth is, you love seeing them like this...they show the hard work you’ve put into all your paintings even if they turned out to be beautiful in your eyes or not.

Being a Sunday today, you had the entire day to yourself...Hongjoong would probably come over during the evening to spend the night there, but you will have already stopped working on the painting by then. You started working on his painting last week and, even if you don’t work on it every single day, you’re on a good path and it’ll probably be ready by the day you’ll give it to him.

The painting is a landscape, a landscape of an- untouched by humanity- island. With its crystal waters shining and the sun setting and colouring the sky with millions of different hues of orange and yellow. The flora is rich with many trees and some flowers here and there that create a beautiful contrast with the colours of the sky. This landscape is him. He’s colourful and beautiful inside and out. He’s a peaceful place that you always wish to be around. He’s so pure, like he’s never been touched by the seaminess of the world. He’s a warm sunset in the middle of the summer, with a slight breeze that smoothly touches your face and gives you the feeling of a beautiful dizziness.

You were painting a number of trees when the door of the atelier opened and you turned around to face Hongjoong.

“I knew you’d be in here” he says and the corners of his lips curl up.

“I- yeah...I’m painting” you laugh, kind of nervously.

You had forgotten you had given each other a second key to your apartments and he could come in anytime with it, but you thought he’d come over much later.

“I thought you’d come over in the evening”

“yeah, that’s what I did”

“what?”

“it’s 6:30 Y/N” he said laughing “look at the clock”

“OH hahah, I lost track of time” you set the brush and paints down slowly and make your way towards him so that you’ll both leave the room without him asking about your painting, but that failed.

“what are you painting today?”

“oh it’s just...a present for a friend”

“it must be a dear friend...you have paint all over your clothes and face, baby” he laughed.

“really? I didn’t realise” you tried wiping your face while standing on the door.

“wait...is that sea I see? Is that an island?” he walks towards the canvas.

fuck.

“hah yes...my friend reminds me of...pretty islands and warm sunsets”

“that’s cute”

“why don’t we go now?”

“no, keep painting...I didn’t wanna distract you”

“you already did though”

“oh I’m sorry, do you want me to leave?”

“nonono I didn’t mean it like that...uh fine sit on the couch and I’ll go back to the painting, you might get bored though”

“there’s no way I’ll get bored of seeing you creating”

You felt a burn in your stomach, he’s so cute...

At least he didn’t ask anything else about the painting, but you didn’t wanna seem suspicious so inviting him to just stay there was the best option now...

You went back to the canvas, brush and paints in your hands again and kept creating tiny trees, but without even realising you kept looking back at Hongjoong...it must have been instinctive, since this is for him.

“what?” he laughed at some point.

“I’m sorry...you just inspire me” you said facing the canvas again.

“aww my baby is getting inspired by me”

He got up and walked up to you to give you a back hug.

“has anyone ever told you how cute and hot you look all concentrated?” he kissed your neck and you shivered.

“n-no”

“well, I am telling you right now”

“thank you”

“that’s all? not a kiss, not a lil grind, no nothing?” he lowered his hands to your sides.

“I’m trying not to get distracted, like you said Hongjoong”

“I did? A little break is never bad, then” he said and started kissing the place under your ear as his hands caressed your sides slowly. You let your head fall on his shoulder and your eyes fell shut.

He hadn’t realised that you still had the paints and brush on your hands and when he turned you around to get you closer, the palette got squeezed between your bodies and colours darted on both the floor and your faces and clothes.

“HONGJOONG”

“I’ll clean that later” he said and took the palette and brush off you hands fast and placed them on your desk. You checked the canvas to make sure paint wasn’t thrown on it, but before you were even 100% sure, Hongjoong cupped your cheeks and smashed his lips on yours. He didn’t hesitate a bit and turned the kiss into a sloppy make out session. He’s giving open mouthed kisses and so are you, giving him the chance to slip his tongue in your mouth. He didn’t stay there for long though and the moment he bit on your lower lip, a moan escaped from your lips, making him smile against you.

“that’s exactly what I wanted to hear” he said and slightly, but forcefully, pulled your hair back to expose your neck to him.

“fuck” you exhaled and when you felt his lips on your neck, you knew he would try to hold back his bites and that’s what he did. Every time he’d bite with a little more pressure, he’d instantly stop at the best part, but you were not having it.

“It’s okay Hongjoong, I can cover it”

“Are you sure?”

“yeah”

He bit on the side of your neck and you felt your knees weaken, but tried to hold onto his shirt for support. He harshly sucked on the place, making your eyes fall shut and driving moans out of you, which got mixed with his sounds against your neck. You really needed some support right now, something you can lean on because his shirt wasn’t enough. So, when he nibbled on your skin and you felt your head fall all the way back, you guided him backwards till his back touched the wall, where the canvas stood on the left and a big window on the right.

He drew his head back to admire his own canvas and your eyes snapped open, only to see him smiling at his creation. He looks so pure, like he didn't just mark your neck or like his boner isn't brushing against your thigh in need of friction.

"lie on the sofa" you told him and the smile on his face turned into a smirk, like he knew he was about to have a good time.

He immediately did as you told him and after pulling his and your own pants off, you climbed on the free place between his legs.

"look, I've never sucked someone off on my workplace and you know that..." you said as you pulled his underwear down, freeing his member and letting it hit against his stomach.

"...but there's always a first time for everything, I guess" you tapped his tip on the last words and started pumping him slowly, adding more and more pressure on each pump, until you took him in your mouth.

He inhaled loudly and supported his body on his elbows to watch your every move, as you twirled your tongue around his width. You didn't force yourself to take him all in, your hand can do just fine on the part that won't be in your mouth, so you started blowing him. Your head is moving fast in all directions on his shaft and his head fell back as a loud moan left his lips. You leave him just for a second to get the wetness all over his dick, but as you pump him, pre-cum leaks from his tip.

"oof baby, why are you so quick today?"

He didn't have the time to answer as you took him in your mouth again, bobbing faster now while your hand is massaging the lower part of his member.

"fuuck, just like that baby" he groaned and his eyebrows furrowed.

You kept going, bobbing faster and faster and your hand squeezed on his base, until a wave of praises mixed with curses fell from his lips and his legs started trembling. When he throbbed in your mouth and gasped, you stopped, trying to prevent his orgasm. He let his body fall on the sofa as his chest is rising and falling fast.

"why are you so good at this?" he said through sharp breaths and with a quick move, he pulled your legs making you lie down this time.

"I'm good too, though", he's hovering above you.

"I know-" his hand flew to your clothed centre and you gasped as he started massaging your clit with his thumb. His left hand lifted your shirt and you took it off, letting him caress your lower stomach. The bundle of nerves on your clit is going crazy and you can feel your thighs starting to slightly tremble as low moans are leaving your lips.

"Hongjoong n-no...I dont wanna come yet" you whisper, grabbing his wrist to stop him and keep him in place.

"don't worry babygirl, I'd stop anyways" he said and before you could even come down, he slid your panties to the side as he smoothly pushed in without warning. Your eyes widened and your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden stretch, but his eyebrows also furrowed at the feeling.

"ffu-uck" you cried and he kept pushing in, slowly and steadily until he bottomed out.

When he did, he came close to your face brushing his lips on yours “I won’t be gentle, princess” and pulled almost all the way out to thrust in fast.

A whimper found its way out of your throat and his hand travelled up to wrap around your neck. This made a smile appear on your lips and you felt your core getting wetter. He started thrusting slow but hard and the force of his hips could be heard on the way your skin slapped against each other.

“a-ahh, yess”

He moved faster without pulling out more than halfway before he thrusted back in again. His fingers around your throat tighten with every louder groan he lets out and his pace is fast enough to make you see stars. The blood runs fast through your brain and your moans have turned into a distant echo in your ears.

“Hongjoong, fasterr-” he shoved himself into you harder and your cries got mixed with high-pitched moans. You couldn’t control your vocals, it’s like every thrust pushed a louder moan out of you and every whimper of his got you closer and closer.

“do you- like this-?” His fingers on your neck tighten.

“yess-”

The sofa moves along with his movements, his grunts are strained and his dick starts twitching unexpectedly. He’s pounding into you and you can feel your walls clenching leading you to feeling every ridge of his cock drag along. Your cries and his moans are in unison and fill the silent room, but when you let your orgasm get over you, he quiets himself down. It’s like he’s pressing himself not to make any loud noises, just to hear yours. He’s heaving through his nose, as your colours get all over his size and before you were done, he reaches his own climax, throbbing uncontrollably and mixing your liquids together. Incoherent syllables leave his mouth and his hold around your throat gets loose, while the orgasm washes over him. Your cries stopped getting louder as you’re panting now and when he slowly pulls out, the sudden emptiness feels weird. He lies on you, with his head buried in your shoulder, still breathing fast.

“I’ve never done this in here” you say.

“I know, baby”

“By the way, thank you in advance for this beautiful painting” he smiles and gives a kiss on your shoulder.

“w-what painting?” your eyes widen and you’re glad he’s facing the other way.

“you’ve told me before that I’m your warm sunset and that’s what you said when I asked you about the painting too”

“FUCK”

“It’s really pretty, really...but not as pretty as your eyes” he said and faced you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you laughed it off.

He’s still so pure...like he didn’t just fuck you on the sofa of your workplace, with paint on your clothes and faces as the sun is setting. Maybe he really is your warm sunset...

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