#excuse me while I take 2 seconds to be self indulgent on main
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Obsolete – part 1
Dave Lister x reader
part 2 (soon)
They/Them pronouns are used for the reader, with no other gender indicators. N/N for nickname. This was getting long, so I cut it into two parts. I was heading for a self-indulgent rewrite of the Inquisitor, so this is just a prelude, but it can be read as a standalone. TW: anxiety, minor depression episode
"-o Y/N! Holly to Y/N! Are you awake yet?" you stirred up in your bed, Holly's voice finally penetrating through your ears, yet taking a while to get processed in your brain. "No." you mumbled out, turning around and nuzzling deeper into the sheets, hoping that she had nothing else to say. Sadly not. "The boys are asking you to join them for lunch. What should I tell them?"
A dry chuckle escaped your throat, "Is everyone asking for me, or was it just Rimmer? I can't imagine he hadn't had any remarks on my behalf.". Holly excused herself and disappeared for a moment, but that gave you all the answers you needed. "I am not supposed to tell you that." she blurted out right after blipping onto the screen again. " 'course you don't…" you hummed, "Don't let them wait then, I'll come later."
You waited for Holly to fade out once again before you let out a long, tired yawn, stretching your limbs out and letting your body spasm for a bit. You turned onto your back, burning a hole in the ceiling as you tried to make your body listen to you. Waking up has been getting harder and harder, almost ever since you boarded the Red dwarf. You felt empty and lethargic, something you blamed your bad conscience for, as you had some unresolved disputes you could no longer settle. And since Kryten was the main cook, you were completely obsolete as a head chef, so what else were you supposed to do? Besides, sleeping helped to shut out unwanted thoughts and emotions.
But the longer you lay there, the more time will Rimmer have to prepare his spiteful comments, and you were not interested in giving him any ammunition. You tried to get dressed as fast as you could, silently thanking Kryten for cleaning your room daily, it would have been one big mess a long time ago, and you wouldn't have anything clean to put on.
You didn't bother to run, after all, your ubication was on the other side of the hallway, if anything, you slowed down. You cleaned the residual crust out of the corners of your eyes right before you stepped into the occupied ubication.
Lister and Cat were sitting by the table, the latter too busy stuffing his face with a second serving of grilled fish to notice you, at least Dave managed to wave at you. You waved back, a small smile appearing for a moment before the annoying pompous voice cut through the room. "Well, well, well, look at that! The sleeping beauty had finally woken up!", you sighed, sitting down at the table and grabbing a plate, there it was again. "Hello to you too, Rimmer.", you murmured, really hoping that was all he was going to say.
"You know, I would like to know how you sleep so well, knowing you contribute absolutely nothing. I mean, how did you even become a head chef?", you really didn't want to get into an argument with him, fortunately, Lister came to your aid. "Zipp it Rimmer. I've told you, if you want to be salty, go talk to the salt shakers." it looked like they had already argued today. "But you can't deny you had never actually seen them cook either!", so it was this topic again, Lister had assured you that Rimmer was just pissy about you having a technically higher rank than him, something that presumably attacked his ego. "What if I had? Besides, you know we only let Kryten stay as a cook 'cause he would whine 'bout being inefficient.", Rimmer wasn't giving up, "Why do they keep their rank then? It's useless for that gimboid!".
"Rimmer! Smeg-off!", Lister was getting irritated, and you were starting to get upset. Rimmer was right, but it truly wasn't something you had to listen to first thing in the morning or noon for that matter. You felt the pressure building up behind your eyes, and that just couldn't be, Rimmer would never shut up about it, so in between the fight or flight, you chose flight. But not without running your mouth just a tiny bit.
"You're right, Rimmer." you stood up with the plate in your hands and walked towards the door, locking your eyes with his as you stood between the frames. "I am completely useless here, but you know what? At least I know when to keep quiet." and with that, you stormed out, heading to your favourite spot with blurry vision.
The overpass over the chasm was quiet as always, the air pleasantly cold and the floor you sat on warm from the heater pipeline that ran below. You dandled your feet as you tried to get some more food into your stomach. You weren't even halfway through, and you were hungry, but something in your head was against every bite you tried to eat. It made you too aware of every movement your jaw did, and it felt repulsing. The chicken curry was great, but you just couldn't take another bite.
As soon as you put aside the plate, Lister showed up around the corner. "Thought I might find you here, are you alright?" he sat down beside you, quietly sighting at the unfinished dish and tear stains on your cheeks. You shook your head, "I don't know, Listy, probably not.". Dave put his hand on your back, your heart skipped a beat, but you subconsciously shrugged it off, not wanting to be touched, "You know, you don't have to put up with him. You have a higher rank, use it against him. Even if it means turnin' him off for a while.".
"I would rather not. You know what happened the last time I pulled that card." you knew that he knew, but sometimes it wasn't a bad idea to remind him since it was one of the roots of your current problems.
"That was on a different ship.", you were taking in a breath to protest, but Lister was faster, "Hey, I know that it's not somethin' one would get over easily, but shuttin' yourself in won't help anythin'. So… If you ever decide you want to talk 'bout it, or 'bout whatever you've got goin' on right now… We- I'm here… I'm here, whenever you need me, alright?".
You finally looked at him, he was looking at you reassuringly with a warm smile, hands folded in lap. He was so cute. "Anyway, I wanted to ask if you would join us on an expedition to that moon we found yesterday. We'll be leavin' in a few hours, Kryten's almost done preparin' the bug. We might be gone for a few days…".
"I would love to, but I'm not feeling well. Maybe next time?" you threw him an apologetic smile. You'd really like to go, you loved spending time with Lister, but the vision of being locked in a confined space with Rimmer didn't spark joy, especially today. "You sure?", you looked away, down into the abyss, nodding, feeling bad for turning him down, "Well… Alright… But promise me somethin'."
You hummed, slightly interested in what Dave was going to say. "N/N," he cautiously reached his hand towards you again, this time squeezing your shoulder, you glimpsed his way, he had your attention, "try to take care of yourself. And I mean it, I'm worried 'bout you.". You sighed, were you really looking that bad? You never wanted to cause the crew any distress with your own problems. Yet there you were, being fussed over by the last person who needed to be worried about you.
Nodding your head, you hesitantly reached for his hand, "You don't have to worry about me, Listy. I'll be fine.". "You don't sound too convincin'… But… at least try to finish that plate, ok?", you huffed, of course he had something to say about it. "I'm working on it, just give me some time." you smiled shyly, waiting for where the conversation will be carried to next.
Smiling back at you, Dave squeezed your shoulder again, you could swear you had to be blushing at this point, but if you did, he hadn't made any comments, he never did, "I'll have to believe you then, won't I? Well, I should go and pre- Oh! I almost forgot, I've got you little somethin'!". You arched an eyebrow as he turned around, pulling out a little chocolate muffin, "Aw," you pursed your lips, "that's for me? Where'd you get it?".
"Kryten made them for us as a dessert. But after you left, Cat made up his mind 'bout sharin' and was dead set on keepin' all of the muffins for himself. I almost lost a finger when I was snatchin' this one away from him!" Lister laughed a bit at the last part, but knowing Cat, he probably wasn't joking. You reached for the dessert in his hand, smiling as you inspected it, not looking for flaws, but rather looking at it with fascination, "Thank you, but you shouldn't have, I'm not worth the trouble.". If only you knew that for him, you were worth every single one.
"I'll safe it for later." you set it down next to the plate, returning your full concentration back to Dave. "I hope you won't stop at just keepin' it for later." Lister chuckled as he patted you on your back for the last time, moments later excusing himself before stepping up. He turned to you once more before you would disappear out of each other's sight, you were no longer paying attention to him, but that didn't stop him from beaming at you, as you held the half-eaten plate in your hand once more.
#dave lister#dave lister x reader#dave lister x gn!reader#reader insert#red dwarf x reader#david lister x reader#david lister#lister x reader#tw anxiety#tw depression#this blorbo#this mf#this smeghead#there's not enough content out for him. there'll never be. he deserves all the love#I had to get this out before I got to requests. they'll come after the second part
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[Moderator art under cut]
These bitches bi. Good for them
plus a bonus sketch of Dom’s sister & her hero alias w/ the Raven, Valkyrie
#excuse me while I take 2 seconds to be self indulgent on main#·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ᵠᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᵇᵉᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ; ᵒᵒᶜ/ʳᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ.#·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ ⁿᵒ ᶠˡᵃˢʰ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰʸ ; ⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉʳʸ.
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Promotion
This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!
pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan
genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)
word count: almost 14k
summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”
warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about
a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)
taglist: @rainodanna, @markresonates, @unknown5tar, @yoongsicles
For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed.
They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.
And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.
Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.
He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed.
And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right?
It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.
You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.
When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.
And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn’t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him.
Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him.
He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.
Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck
“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”
It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.
“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”
You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.
Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos?
“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”
Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week.
Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?
He hated seeing you sad.
“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”
Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-
“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”
Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.
This is not a date, he reminded himself.
He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.
He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.
You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.
No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.
Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.
Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.
“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”
“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”
The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?
You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch.
You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state.
“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.
YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.
“You are pretty”
It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound.
He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.
The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.
“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation.
It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.
“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender.
“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”
“Mmm, tempting”
You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight.
You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.
“I’m sorry”
He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?
You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.
“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”
You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible - the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.
Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again?
“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”
You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.
“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”
You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”
Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face.
“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”
He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.
And you aren’t ready to leave yet.
You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.
You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.
Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.
You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.
He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.
“Tell me you want this.”
You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.
“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum”
You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.
In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.
It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.
It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.
And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse.
Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.
It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.
Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets.
He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.
He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.
It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno.
A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.
“Hey, Donghyuck?”
“Yes?”
“Is your cat still alive?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.
“Oh my god, yes, right there”
The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”
You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.
His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.
“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.
“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”
It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction.
You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.
“But we don’t have a condom”
You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.
Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.
He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you.
“Fuck. This feels so good”
You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking.
He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more.
Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.
“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”
He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.
Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.
It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.
You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.
The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.
Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.
8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.
“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”
You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.
“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”
“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’
With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands.
“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”
“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”
“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”
You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body.
“Did you forget about this?”
You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film.
“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”
You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.
You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.
The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart.
You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.
It was Johnny.
You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.
You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.
You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.
“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”
You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.
“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”
“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”
You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?
“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”
He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs.
“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”
Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”
Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit.
“Have I seen you in that before?”
You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?
“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”
“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”
You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.
“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.
“I’d like you better without it.”
With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.
He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.
“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”
He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.
“You love all my skirts Johnny”
“I do. Because I can do this”
His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.
Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you.
“Someone might see us.”
His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else.
“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”
“Johnny…”
You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.
“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”
You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.
Donghyuck was staring right back at you.
Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.
And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.
You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.
The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.
Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.
And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.
Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.
You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs.
You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.
“He’s on call, come back later.”
Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.
Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.
“No panties huh?”
It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.
You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.
“Like what you see?”
You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.
He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.
“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”
His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you.
“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”
“And?”
“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”
“I could die after this”
His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.
“But-“
“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”
You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.
“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.
You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane.
He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.
It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing.
His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.
“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”
The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.
“Donghyuck, please. More”
A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot.
“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.”
He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.
“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”
The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.
“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”
You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.
“What would you do to me?”
Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest.
“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”
You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.
The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.
You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties.
You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.
“Donghyuck?!”
You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.
“I… We-“
You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.
“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”
He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.
Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office?
You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.
“Shall we start?”
A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you?
“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”
Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime.
You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.
“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”
“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.
“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”
“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”
The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.
“What’s the occasion?”
“I got promoted!”
Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.
Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.
“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.
“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.
You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head.
“How about you come over my place for one?”
You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface.
Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.
You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.
He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.
“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.
“When were you gonna tell me?”
You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.
“I’m sorry?”
“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”
Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.
“I didn’t tell him-“
“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”
Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.
“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”
He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.
“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”
He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.
“We haven’t actually…”
“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”
“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”
You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.
“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”
You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.
“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.
Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.
“She’s a little brat”
“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”
You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.
“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”
You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.
“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”
Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.
“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”
Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.
“Fuck”
“Tight, isn’t she?”
“So fucking tight baby, damn”
Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.
“I have to feel that again”
And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.
“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”
You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.
“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”
You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.
“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”
Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples.
“Is that hard enough for you?”
Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.
“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.
“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.
“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.
You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.
“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.
“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?”
He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.
“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”
“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.
“I need your big cock inside me, please”
“Ass up”
You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor. His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.
“You’re still not used to me babe?”
“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”
“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”
“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”
You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.
“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.
“Mr. Suh”
“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”
“Yes sir”
“What a good girl”
Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.
You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.
Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust.
“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”
He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.
“Yes, sir. I love it”
Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.
Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.
“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”
You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.
You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet.
thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :)
#neosmutcollective#neowritingsnet#johnny suh#johnny suh smut#lee haechan#haechan smut#donghyuck smut#johnny suh x reader#haechan x reader#nct smut#nct#nct 127#nct dream#johnny seo smut#johnny seo#johnny nct smut#haechan nct smut#nct dream smut
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ok you know what i think it’s actually really vital that i talk a little bit about tea time. buckle up kiddos.
first off, a brief and relatively spoiler-free summary: the premise of the issue is very simple. the kiddos (aged up, if willow’s mention of being engaged is any indication) are hanging out in the library to help giles with research, swapping stories about what it would be like were giles a vampire. each of them, save giles, gets a chance to tell a detailed story -- xander tells two! -- and each story plays out in a way that says a lot about the scooby that’s telling it AND the way they view giles.
obviously this is a VERY character-driven issue, and it’s a really really interesting look at giles and how he is perceived as well! shit like that is my bread and butter, so this has honestly become one of my favorite things that boom has put out -- possibly my ACTUAL top favorite issue if we’re being real here.
below the cut is a spoilery dissection of every story told -- a literal summary of Every Single Thing that happens in this issue, as well as what it has to say about the scoobies and their perception of giles, so definitely keep that in mind.
as can be seen in the preview, xander’s first story is about giles rising from the grave as an ineffectual british caricature, who is easily defeated by smoldering, sexy xander harris (and xander in turn walks off with buffy and willow draped all over him, cooing about how amazing he is). it’s more of an intro to the premise than anything, but it still sets the tone pretty clearly wrt how xander handles this situation: there’s some laughter and levity, and he’s center stage. obviously a lot can be said about xander’s self-esteem issues and how he overcompensates by casting himself as the main protagonist both in canon and here. however, i wanna save my more in-depth xander analysis for his second, longer, story, so i’ll stop myself there.
willow immediately responds with skepticism: she’s of the mind that giles would be an incredibly serious big-bad level threat. the tale she spins involves giles as a dangerous vampire cleric with access to a cryptic altar, killing xander almost immediately and slaughtering buffy as a sacrifice to create eternal night. her view of giles is more clinical than anything -- and, i would argue, the most perceptive and realistic from a threat standpoint. the guy knows a fuckton of magic and he is incredibly well-read and powerful. he’d have some kind of terrifying master plan. where xander goes for comedy, willow goes straight for logistics, already looking at the battle like it’s a battle rather than laughs aplenty.
xander and buffy have a bone to pick with willow’s story (xander is indignant that he’s immediately and brutally killed, buffy is of the mind that she would easily defeat giles in hand-to-hand combat even if he IS a vampire), so (after one more teasing story where buffy lives and xander dies) willow gracefully alters her narrative to reflect her friends’ objections: after a dramatic tussle, xander helps willow and buffy unceremoniously stakes giles in the heart. still pretty straightforward and plausible. willow sees vamp giles primarily as a threat -- one not easily neutralized. one who could easily wipe them out.
buffy, about to tell her story, is interrupted by xander, who “had an even better idea!” the web he weaves is this time purported as realistic and entertaining: while partying at the bronze, buffy and co. are interrupted by a bunch of balding, greying vampires in curlers and bathrobes, led, of course, by giles -- who is wearing a hair bonnet and disapprovingly informing the bouncers how late it is at eight PM. a knockdown brawl breaks out at the bronze -- old people feeding on and decimating the young -- and culminates in giles and the geezers taking over the band to sing “some terrible song” that’s “probably something really old and bad!” the rest of the story descends into b-movie chaos, with buffy throwing a broken guitar neck up at the stage lights to send the whole thing crashing down onto vampire giles and his vampire old person band. it’s categorically absurd.
the thing that really sticks with me about this story is how dumb it is. xander’s take on giles is not even slightly serious and wholly underestimates him. fandom at large talks a lot about how giles dropped the ball with xander, but i think tea time explores an easily overlooked factor: xander constantly, consistently underestimates giles. in canon, xander’s view of giles is not often challenged: to him, giles is a bumbling, british librarian who regularly gets his ass handed to him by vamps and demons and the like. certainly part of his story’s intent is about laughingly entertaining his gal pals, but there’s a very real and consistent thread involving giles being hilariously nonthreatening.
giles, taking umbrage at this particular tale, calls out both xander and willow: xander’s story, in giles’s opinion, emasculates vamp giles and turns him into a ridiculous caricature -- and willow’s story, though much more flattering, lacks the kind of imagination that vamp giles would clearly have. he then offers a suggestion of his own. it’s worth mentioning here that both xander’s and willow’s stories get gorgeous multiple-page spreads depicting the vampy action, but giles’s is a simple and chilling little thing: this is his vampire story. this meeting, called to ostensibly “research” a vampire altar, is really an excuse to get the scoobies to do his dirty work and find the thing for him. they’re tired and silly because the tea and donuts he’s given them are drugged, and their library location is to keep them out of daylight. he laughs it off when he sees they’re bothered, and the meeting is then adjourned when willow finally finds what they’re all looking for.
buffy’s left her phone in the library, so she doubles back, and accidentally wakes up a dozing giles. just as she’s about to leave, he inquires, casually, “...you never did tell your version of the story.”
and good god here is where it gets interesting.
see, buffy’s take is simple: she’s fighting giles in a cemetery, she’s given the chance to kill him, and she is entirely unable to do it. they share a tearful embrace as she sobs about the unfairness of it all -- “you’re giles! and you’ll always be! ...how will i do this without you? without your guidance?” and as the sun is rising, giles turns her into a vampire, with no resistance whatsoever from buffy. the next handful of pages depict bloody, indulgent violence on the parts of giles and buffy, the two of them cuddled up together as they watch the world burn.
buffy’s tale is the most emotive, the most loving, which makes me so damn soft! i love this girl so much! she is unable to even joke about giles as a foe to be taken down -- he is her watcher. he is her friend. she loves him endlessly and that does not change when he’s a vampire. vamp giles as she portrays him is gentle and understanding, holding her as she cries, because he knows that they’re connected. it’s easily my favorite part of this whole issue.
notably, there is a definite buffy/giles bend that the comic itself tries to contradict. the art is sensual in nature -- vamp buffy all dolled up in a way somewhat evocative of drusilla, giles tenderly caressing her face as he waits for her to wake up. “watcher and slayer connected forever” being the quote chosen to describe the situation. i think it’s kind of what naturally happens in a vamp giles sitch, especially if he turns buffy -- the childe/sire bond is incredibly sexual in nature, especially in canon, and a lot of frustrating human sentiment gets translated into something sexual as well. sex is a big BIG part of the relationships between vampires we see in canon; it would make a lot of sense for that to hold true for buffy and giles.
the comic is reticent about Going There, which i can understand -- though buffy is decisively aged up in this issue (willow mentions being engaged to a woman, later revealed to be tara), the buffy/giles bond is always seen through a father/daughter lens in canon. i do think it’s also important to always recognize how desperately giles wishes to escape the label of father in reference to buffy, pretty much entirely because there is no way to parent a child soldier who you’re also training, but that’s a whole other kettle of fish. point is, buffy very pointedly refers to vamp giles as her father not once, but twice -- once as a human, once as a vampire herself. it’s a very clear attempt, imo, to un-sexualize the vampy experience. the reason it doesn’t totally work, at least for me, is the fact that -- like i said -- the childe/sire bond is VERY sexual (spike and dru, angel and darla, angel and dru) and it seems just totally implausible that vamp buffy/vamp giles (two people who, as human were both VERY repressed) would chastely remain within the socially acceptable version of their relationship.
i can definitely understand why they did their best to blur that line, though. the idea of buffy and giles being romantically involved as vampires is 1) Kind Of A Lot and 2) not exactly the target demographic that i think this comic is going for. but the subtext is there, to the point where the issue itself has to actively obfuscate it, which i think is .... so interesting? especially as a counterpoint to the way i often see buffy/giles in fandom, wherein the father/daughter subtext in canon is at times actively obfuscated in fic in an attempt to push a preferred reading.
the ending i particularly enjoyed: after buffy leaves, it is lightly and ambiguously implied that giles might really be a vampire. works GREAT as a standalone, imo, and the end is like the cherry on top. it’s a really REALLY interesting issue and i highly recommend it for any giles fan.
#meta#btvs comics#buffy and giles#''a little bit'' they say. and write a full fucking essay#anyway i love this issue it's my prized possession i am dying for at least one (1) person to read this insane summary and talk to me abt it
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Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)
Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....
Read Part 1 HERE
Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii
Word Count: 2.6k
Pt 2: The Date
Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement.
1 message from Poppy🙄
Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date” tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣
A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette.
Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.
Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right?
The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”
Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment.
“Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”
Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”
Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”
“I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”
“Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”
Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.
But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.
The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”
“Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.
Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”
“Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”
“Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”
Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”
“Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.
“Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”
“Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”
Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire.
“Wha-...hey!”
***
After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”
“Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”
The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was.
Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms.
“I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?”
Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.”
She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.”
Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of.
“I would. Thank you.”
The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday.
But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin.
The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.
Food. That could work.
“Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.”
If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?”
Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.”
***
“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”
“Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”
The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot.
Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.”
“I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body.
“Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence.
“We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.”
“Just one? What about your friend over here?”
Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”
The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction.
Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”
The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?
Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.”
Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.”
“Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.
***
“I’m paying for our next date by the way.”
Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness.
“Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”
“I did too.”
The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought.
“What are you thinking?”
“What?”
“You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”
Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.”
Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.”
Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on.
But of course Poppy had other plans.
“Mmh!”
The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer.
Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.”
Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.
***
if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.
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Bird’s Writing Ideas
Summaries of some of the dcst AUs and other fanfic concepts I’m “working on,” or at least just have a google doc going for. Feel free to send me an ask if you want to hear more about any of them :P
No Stone Wars AU
Terrible name, yes, so sometimes I call this the “Delayed Lions AU.” I am not good at titling things. It’s an AU where Yuzuriha was successfully brought back to camp and revived instead of Tsukasa, and then the lions show up. Working together though, our heroes do manage to scare the lions away for the time being, and Tsukasa doesn’t end up getting revived until way later. Essentially it’s an excuse for me to write a civilization-building story where Senku carries out his plans as he intended before the whole Stone Wars shenanigans happened. Senku does still find Ishigami Village (he has to go to Hakone eventually to collect sulfur) but he’s not nearly as concerned about, ya know, getting murdered. Could be really boring for some people, but like I’ve said I LOVE the civilization building parts of DCST and this is my jam. I did way too much math for this one.
Fem! Senku AU
Exactly what it says on the tin. Tentatively titled “Ishigami Senku: Girl Genius.” I’ve left it ambiguous so far whether Senku is cis or trans, but either way this one is great for exploring how Senku’s decisions and character (and those around her) might be affected by Senku being a girl. For instance, this Senku is more used to being underestimated and patronized than canon Senku and has a slight compulsion to wanting to prove herself, which is in conflict with her desire to surge ahead without caring about what others think of her. Her hair also obeys gravity a little more and she wears it in a ponytail, and she’s a little closer to Yuzuriha than in canon (though Taiju is still her oldest and best friend). I’ve had a few problems with hashing out the plot for this one since I don’t want it to perfectly match canon but I also want it to keep some key story nodes, and the butterfly effect makes it tend to veer wildly off into various directions.
Mermaids AU(s)
I have like, three of these because I couldn’t decide how to go about it and just wanted to write something with mermaids. I like fantasy.
Senku and Taiju are young mermen living in an underwater kingdom, and Senku’s fascinated with the above world, spending his days studying humans and their inventions and trying to come up with something that could allow him to go on land. But then one day something turns the whole Sea Kingdom into stone statues, and it’s up to Senku to venture out into the human world in search of a cure. Lower on my interest scale because most of the story wouldn’t take place among the mermaids.
Inspired by ao3 user Luki’s story Flock where soon after revival petrified humans sprout wings. In this case though, Senku realizes that he’s somehow becoming partially aquatic, only instead of being full on mermanified he ends up more like...mermaids in the Sims 3? Where he has to stay constantly hydrated to survive and his legs turn into a tail when submerged in water. I like this one a lot, actually.
H2O: Just Add Water AU. There was this Australian tv show I used to watch at my friend’s house when we were like...seven, about these three girls who after a strange encounter realized that ten seconds after coming in contact with water, they would turn into mermaids. I’ve tweaked that concept a lot but basically this AU is Senku, Taiju, and Yuzuriha taking the place of the three main characters, and also they’re in Japan instead of Australia, for obvious reasons.
A Single Act of Kindness
AU where 12 year old Tsukasa is rescued from the old man on the beach by another, friendlier old man, one with grey hair with dark tips and red eyes. That’s it, that’s the whole concept. Probably gonna be a oneshot.
Future/Next Gen
Not an AU, but basically a bunch of (very theoretical and self indulgent) ideas I have about the Kingdom of Science post defeating Why-man. All of them stem from a concept I had where Senku finds a protege in Taiju and Yuzuriha’s third oldest child, a girl named Yurika (which is a legitimate girls’ name but Senku was the one who named her and meant it to sound like Eureka! on purpose, as if saying he wished for her to have a life full of discovery. He’ll deny thinking that much about it though). Most of the stories I have in this concept are about Yurika’s teen years, with Senku in his forties.
Suika in Wonderland
Just a funny idea I had where Suika falls asleep to Ukyo telling her an “old British children’s story,” one summer afternoon and finds herself in a strange world where a lot of the bizarre individuals she meets look oddly like some of her friends.
ATLA AU
Recently I did a little speculative thing for this in this post, and I liked it enough to write it down into a more fully fleshed out concept. Story 1 is going to be about Ryusui growing up in the Northern Water Tribe and him meeting the Gaang when they arrive at the end of Book 1, while Story 2 is going to be about Senku and his friends uncovering the Dai Li conspiracy in Ba Sing Se and teaming up with the Gang when they arrive in Book 2. Story 3...well I’d like to do something regarding the Fire Nation characters, so maybe something to do with Amaryllis.
#dcst#dr stone#dr. stone#dcst au#aus#alternate universes#writing ideas#my writing ideas#dcst spoilers#dunno what to tag yet
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Shopping with Maxwell Lord
READ PART TWO HERE
DAY FIVE: Shopping with Maxwell Lord [This is the one I really wanted to write for myself and my own self indulgent needs!]
Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)
Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes
December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina
December Writing Challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Warnings: allusions to sex, mention of orphanages and losing parents, Maxwell really wants a baby...
Word count: 2.7k
Rating: PG-13
Maxwell stood there, front and centre of the living room, in front of the television, frowning. A crinkle in between his brown eyebrows and his arms crossed over his chest. "Max?" you asked, looking at him with bewilderment. He didn't reply. "Max, can you move? I'm trying to watch A Christmas Carol." Maxwell sighed, moving out the way and slumping on down on the couch next to you. You continued watching the black and white movie for only a few seconds before tossing your head back and pausing it. "What?" you asked Maxwell and he narrowed his eyes.
"What?" he repeated, his tone almost accusing.
"Why are you so miserable?" you asked him and he shrugged, looking away from you and back at the paused TV. "Hello? Cat got your tongue?" you quizzed, causing him to roll his eyes. "Talk to me."
"I just-" Maxwell took a deep breath. "I hate the time of year. I mean, since meeting you, it's been better. It's been so much better but still… it still feels tainted by my past." he revealed. You wrapped your arm around him and lay your head into his lap. He found his fingers smoothing out your hair, bringing him a sense of comfort and belonging. "I don't know what to do."
You thought for a moment, glancing back at the paused television and back up at your boyfriend. "You remind me of Scrooge." you said out loud.
"Excuse me?" Maxwell asked and you giggled, reaching over to grab the remote and press play on the television.
"Ebeneezer Scrooge from A Christmas Carol," you clarified, pointing at the character on the television. "He was always miserable around Christmas. He made his business associate work in the cold and he never gave to charity… but then three ghosts came to visit him and he changed into a better, kind hearted and more generous man."
"Wow," Maxwell scoffed. "You really know how to make me feel better." he said sarcastically and you slapped his arm playfully. "I don't see the resemblance. I give to plenty of charities and I never make my employees work in the cold… and what is he wearing?"
"Maxie," you laughed. "It's set like, 100 years ago. Listen, I think you're wonderful. You give so much already. And I love you no matter what but… Christmas in particular is a time for giving back. Helping those who are less fortunate than ourselves. I think it could really bring you a kind of happiness. It'll keep you occupied and-"
"You have something in mind, don't you?" Maxwell sighed and your lips curled into a grin.
"Maybe…." you smirked, your eyes sparkling with excitement and desire. Maxwell loved to see you happy.
"Okay, what is it?" He asked and you sat up, taking his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.
"When I was in the city the other day, I saw that the orphanage have been asking for donations. They're saying they'll accept anything. They just want the children to have a Christmas they'll never forget." you explained and Maxwell nodded. He was one of the biggest investors for the orphanage in DC. As a child, he knew how it felt to feel left behind. "So Max, what if we give them a Christmas they'll never forget?"
"Send more money?" he asked, already reaching for his checkbook.
"No. No that's...not what I meant." you shook your head.
"Well what do you propose?"
"Shopping!" you beamed and Maxwell sighed. "C'mon, it'll be fun." You grinned, pulling him off the sofa and wrapping your arms around him.
"It's Christmas Eve, the mall is going to be chaos." Maxwell shook his head in dismay.
"We are going shopping Maxwell." you said sternly. "Trust me on this one."
You pulled him over to the lobby and passed him his winter coat, scarf and gloves before swinging on your own faux fur jacket and wooly hat. "You can make up for this tonight." Maxwell told you, playfully smacking your ass as you opened the front door. You laughed and rolled your eyes before taking your boyfriend's hand and pulling him outside.
Maxwell was right. The mall was chaos, but luckily everyone was in a world of their own, too focused on getting their last minute Christmas shopping in before the big day tomorrow. "What's the plan?" he asked as you analysed the map of the mall, trying to figure out the most efficient route.
"We get toys and clothes and…" you looked up at Max. "100 kids live in that orphanage. We're going to do the absolute best we can for them, okay?"
"Okay." Maxwell agreed and you took his hand.
"Okay," you confirmed. "Let's go."
The first stop was a department store. It was bustling like you had never seen before. You and Maxwell both decided it would be best if you split up and went your separate ways before reuniting at the main entrance with your shopping. Taking control, like he always did, Maxwell told you to pick up toiletries while he'd look at the children's clothes.
You found yourself grabbing bubblegum flavoured toothpaste and princess pirate toothbrushes and washcloths, mermaid bubble bath and astronaut shower gel. You were practically pushing everything you could find into your shopping basket, trying your hardest to ignore the heaviness and the way your arm ached from the weight of it. You grabbed some fruity fragranced body spray for the slightly older girls and some deodorant for the preteen boys before heading to the checkout.
Maxwell Lord in the children's clothing section of the busiest DC department store was something else. He was surrounded by pink fluffy cardigans made for two year olds and onesies with little trains printed on them. Maxwell was someone who had a key eye for fashion, and while you were someone who wanted to grab everything you could, Maxwell really valued the quality. He strutted over to the designer brand section and picked out a dozen pairs of cashmere socks, winter UGG boots, Gucci jackets and white, frilly, made in Milan dresses.
But then his eye caught on something. It wasn't designer, it was a small, pale yellow babygrow with the words "Daddy's little princess" embellished in pink glitter writing. It was the smallest thing he had ever seen and he was enamoured. He stared at it for a few moments, before it was snatched away by a middle aged red faced woman with her hair scraped back into a ponytail.
"Hey!" Maxwell shouted, spinning around and pointing his finger at the woman. "That's mine." he frowned, angry that she had taken the last one.
"Finders keepers." she snarled.
Maxwell tore his hat from his head and removed his sunglasses. "Do you know who I am?" he quizzed bitterly, his hand taking place on his hip.
The woman gasped, her mouth parting slightly. "Oh- oh my god," she said with shock dripping from her tongue. "You're! You're Maxwell Lord! The King of Infomercials!!! I just seen you on the television in the electronics department!"
Maxwell smirked, satisfied with his reputation and influence he had over people. "Yeah, that's me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to need that uh…" he didn't even know what to call the babygrow, instead gesturing aimlessly towards it.
"Okay!" the woman beamed, "But could I get an autograph and a kiss on the lips?"
Maxwell's frown deepened. "What?"
She scrambled around in her purse for a pen and handed it to him, rolling up her sleeve. "Sign me!"
"On- on your arm?" Maxwell asked and she nodded eagerly. Maxwell removed the lid and swiftly signed his name over her skin before handing her the pen back.
"Oh wow," she blushed, fanning herself before pouting her lips.
"Yeah, not happening." Maxwell sighed. "I'm not kissing you." The woman knotted her eyebrows together and straightened herself up, but before she could retort, Maxwell snatched the babygrow from her arms and ran to the elevator. "Nice doing business with you!" he grinned, waving his arms and running away."
After paying for the goods, you and Maxwell met back up and made your way, this time together, to the toy store. "Reminds me of when I was a kid," Maxwell smiled at the memory as he took your hand and looked up and down the shelves in awe. "My dad would take me here every year to pick out a new toy for Christmas. It was one of the only times we got to spend with each other." You hummed, leaning your head into his shoulder. Maxwell grabbed a few stuffed animals and threw them into the shopping cart. "I can't wait for the day I have kids." he announced.
"I thought you didn't want children?" you asked, your voice soft at the thought of your boyfriend being a father.
"I thought for so long I didn't want kids…" Maxwell admitted.
"I think you'd be an amazing father," you told him, squeezing his hand, only making his smile grow further. "Hey, we should get a few of these new electronic train sets! And the new Little Mermaid Barbies! What do you think?"
"I like how you think." Maxwell replied, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you picked out the dolls.
It was around 2 p.m. on Christmas Day. You and Maxwell had just finished your dinner and you had slipped into a fleecy elf dress you had purchased at the mall a day prior. You revealed yourself to Maxwell who was laying on the sofa watching the television has his stomach settled from all the food he had enjoyed.
"Check me out!" you grinned, giving him a little twirl, the bells on your elf hat jingling. Maxwell's jaw dropped as he drunk in your appearance.
"Where on God's great earth did you get that?" he asked, looking slightly mortified.
"The costume department at the mall!" You laughed. "I thought I could wear it for when we visit the orphanage. Don't worry, I got you a little something too so you don't feel left out." You presented Maxwell with a full body Santa Claus costume. "Ta da!"
"Not a chance." Maxwell sighed.
"Come on!" you growled playfully. "I'm sure the kids would love Maxwell Lord giving them presents, they'd be star struck. But Maxie, they're kids. I think they'd love it even more if the presents were delivered by Santa Claus." Max grimaced, knowing you were absolutely right. "Please." you pouted, fluttering your eyelashes.
Maxwell sighed again, this time deeper. He could never deny you. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll get changed and then we can go."
You squealed excitedly, kissing his cheek. "I love you so much Maxie," you said, and Maxwell felt a blush creep over his cheeks. "I just know you're going to be a great dad one day."
"My back hurts." Maxwell moaned as he adjusted the sack of presents over his shoulder. You chuckled, shaking your head as you carried bags of clothes and toiletries of the orphans.
"Proud of you," you assured him. "Almost there."
You practically melted when you saw the delight of the screaming children hurry over to your boyfriend and wrap their tiny arms around him. "Ho ho ho," Maxwell bellowed and you watched with complete adoration as he dropped the sack of presents and interacted with the children. "Have you all been good this year?" he asked and the kids screamed in affirmation.
"Santa Claus!" A little girl gasped, reaching her hands out and making grabby fists. "I thought you weren't coming this year." she admitted, her eyes glossy. Maxwell kneeled down so he was level with the child.
"My elf told me how good you had been this year," Max smiled, pointing at you. "What's your name darling?"
"Maxine," she smiled and you saw Maxwell soften.
"I like that name." Maxwell replied, pulling her into a hug. "Merry Christmas Maxine."
"Thank you Santa, will I see you next year?"
Maxwell looked at you and you nodded your head. "Of course, as long as you be a good girl, I'll come back next year."
Maxine grinned, before hugging Maxwell tighter, refusing to let go. Just then, a boy who you estimated to be about thirteen or fourteen tapped you on the shoulder. You spin around with your best elfish smile, but frowned when you saw the magazine he was holding. It was a tabloid with your face on the cover. You winced at the bad angle. "You look like Max Lord's girlfriend." he deadpanned.
Maxwell's head snapped towards you and the boy and he strolled over. "Well well well who is that beautiful lady?" he asked, taking the magazine from the boy and checking it out.
"Max Lord's girlfriend." the boy replied. "Your elf looks like her."
Maxwell pinched your cheek. "This elf? No, not a chance." Maxwell laughed and you gave the child an apologetic look. "This lady in the magazine is far too beautiful to look like my head elf."
You weren't sure whether you should feel offended or not. Little Maxine gasped, racing over. "You can't say that!" she squealed. "What about Mrs Claus?"
You smirked, leaning into Maxwell. "Yeah Santa, what about Mrs Claus?"
"Uh- well! Mrs Claus… I do love Mrs Claus very much and she's at home baking Christmas cookies so I better be on my way… but it was lovely to meet you all!" Maxwell waved and you stifled back a laugh.
"Please don't go." Maxine cried, hugging Maxwell's legs.
"Be good and I'll be back next year." Maxwell promised, patting her on the head.
"Promise you'll come back?" Maxine begged, tears in her eyes. You wondered how many times little Maxine had asked a parental figure to come back to her and been let down. Maxwell wondered the same, his heart breaking at the thought.
"I promise." Maxwell affirmed, raising back to his feet and placing a hand on the small of your back.
"Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy your presents and remember to be good children. We hope to see you next year!" you said farewell with a cheery smile and the children waved back.
When you got home that evening, you slid out your elf shoes and took off your hat. "Can you help me get out of this dress?" you asked Maxwell, holding up your hair so he could reach the zipper.
"Actually…" Maxwell trailed off, biting his lip. "Maybe you could wear it for bed?" he suggested with a smirk.
"An elf? Really Max? You want me to be an elf?" you laughed in disbelief.
"Could be fun." he shrugged and you rolled your eyes, opting to leave the elf dress on as you clambered into the warm king sized bed, watching Maxwell as he got undressed. "Oh I almost forgot," Maxwell said, reaching into the bag from the department store yesterday. "Close your eyes." You followed his instruction as he dived into the bag and took out the pale yellow babygrow he had fought for. He padded over to the bed and sat down, placing the outfit in your hands. "Open."
Your lips parted slightly as you took in the embellished words 'Daddys little Princess'. You glanced back up at your boyfriend and gave him a questioning look. "I'm confused." you admitted and he took your hands, rubbing circles into your skin.
"I really want a kid," he whispered, looking into your eyes. "I know you do too, and when we've talked about it I've always shut you out but… damn it, I really want one. Do you think… I mean. What do you think-"
You cut him off by pressing a kiss into his lips and holding him tight. "Okay," you nodded, your voice croaking with all the pent up emotion, rubbing your nose against his. "Let's have a baby." you smiled and Maxwell grinned, pushing you into the bed and climbing on top of you.
READ PART TWO HERE
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A birthday fic to correct the awful event Mammon got!
Countdown to Your Special Day
Mammon x Yuki (My MC)
Pronouns: Zie/zir, they/them. If it's easier to read, feel free to sub in they/them for the main pronouns
Tags: Light-hearted romance, fluff/comfort, slight misunderstandings, agender MC, self-indulgent
Words: 4436
[2 months and 1 day away]
-Yuki was curled up in the corner of the couch, concentrated on zir D.D.D. Zie had an open notebook next to zir, the pages filled with calculated numbers and final prices with names of potential websites beside them, some scribbled out and some circled.
-Mammon's birthday was coming up in a couple months, and Yuki had started late in saving money for the surprise zie had wanted to plan for him. He had mentioned it last year as an ideal day, and zie really wanted to make it happen, especially considering all zie did for him was write a bunch of heartfelt letters. Zie wanted to give him something to really experience this time.
-It was just a bit more expensive than zie had realized. Rentals next to a lake were nothing to sneeze at.
-So absorbed with zir phone, Yuki hadn't noticed Lucifer as he entered the library where zie had gone to avoid nosy demons.
-"What are you doing in here, Yuki?"
-Startled, zie dropped zir phone and reflexively covered the notebook. When Yuki realized it was Lucifer, zie relaxed and slumped back against the couch. "Oh, it's just you. Don't scare me like that."
-"That was a bit of a reaction. Are you doing something I should be aware of?"
-"No," was zir immediate response, but then zie reconsidered zir answer. Yuki had been fumbling numbers and trying to make a decision for hours. Zie wanted to do this zirself, but zie'd never done something like this and probably, reluctantly, needed some aid. "Actually, yeah. I need your... help."
-Lucifer blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected this stubborn human who actively tried to make his life harder to ask for help, but Yuki seemed genuine in zir request. "Alright. What is it?"
[1 month and 23 days away]
-Mammon was by the entrance to RAD, waiting for Yuki to come out so they could go home together. Zie had been preoccupied with Lucifer this morning and hadn't left with the younger brothers like usual.
-His day had felt off with Yuki's absence but walking home with zir would make up for it.
-Fiddling around on his D.D.D., checking his sells and ignoring demands from the witches, he occasionally glanced up when saw movement coming out, but it was never Yuki. Hearing familiar voices when the doors cracked open, Mammon took his attention off his phone. It was only Levi and Satan, but maybe Yuki was trailing shortly behind.
-"Mammon, what are you still doing here?"
-"Yeah, I thought you'd be long gone by now after the way you rushed out of the classroom."
-"Shaddup. What's it to ya?" He paused. "I was waitin' for Yuki. Did ya happen to see 'em in there?"
-"So honest. Just say that to begin with," Levi muttered.
-"I think Yuki left earlier with Barbatos."
-"Yep, I overheard Barbatos mention that Lord Diavolo wanted to talk with them about something."
-"What?! Yuki didn't mention anythin' about meetin' with Lord Diavolo to me."
-Satan quirked a bemused eyebrow at Mammon's response. "Why would Yuki need to run it by you about meeting with Lord Diavolo?"
-"LOLOL, it's because Yuki's been avoiding Mammon for a week now. He's been acting like a stray dog without Yuki around."
-Mammon bristled at Levi's comment but didn't rebuttal. He pocketed his phone and walked away from his brothers, darting through the courtyard to leave RAD.
-It was true Yuki had been distant-like the last few of days, but Mammon was sure it was temporary. Even he got tied up in circumstances and important events he couldn't squirm out of. Sometimes it couldn't be helped.
-It wasn't temporary.
[3 weeks and 5 days away]
-"Hey, Yuki--"
-"Sorry, Mammon, I'm running late for my shift. I'll talk to you later!"
-With that as a bye, Yuki was out the door and gone.
-Yuki was usually lackadaisical about any jobs zie took unless one of the brothers worked with zir or if the job required zir full attention. Mammon was usually the first to know if zie had to work, but when--
-"When did Yuki pick up a job?"
-"Jobs," Satan corrected. "Yuki is working at The Fall tonight."
-"The Fall?" Asmo questioned.
"Hold on, what do ya mean 'jobs'? I ain't heard Yuki say anythin' about picking up jobs willingly," Mammon stated, a bit annoyed. He was getting tired of hearing his brothers be more informed about Yuki than he was.
-"When was the last time Yuki actually talked to you, Mammon, that wasn't in passing?" Levi teased without bothering to look up from his game.
-"Hey! We've talked plenty!"
-"Sure, if you want to call those conversations."
-Mammon wanted to argue with Levi, but he really couldn't. He wasn't wrong. Yuki had been absent, and whenever Mammon did manage to talk to zir it was about short and trivial things. It made it hard not to be concerned about the situation of their relationship when Yuki, who was usually glued to his side and spent so much time with him, was suddenly avoiding him. His life had become a bit lonelier without Yuki around.
-"Anyway," Satan interjected, "they've been picking up a lot of shifts from different places the last few weeks. I'm surprised neither you or Asmo knew, considering the network you both have."
-"What the heck does that mean?"
-"It means you're gossiping normies," Levi jeered.
-"Is that s'posed to be an insult?"
-"Besides all that, I'm shocked Yuki picked up shifts at The Fall. I'd love to see the outfit their wearing," Asmo mused. "I'll have to visit them later! I'm sure Yuki will feel completely refreshed after seeing my lovely face."
-Oh, that's right. If Mammon visited Yuki during work hours, zie'd have no choice but to talk with him. He could finally ask zir what the hell has been going on and get an explanation. At the very least just see zir.
-"Well, I'm goin' too! So don't get any funny ideas!"
-"You're not going anywhere, Mammon. You have three extra credit assignments due soon, and you haven't started a single one. Have you?"
-Mammon jumped, frightened by Lucifer's sudden presence behind him. A nervous chill tingled down his spine, so he could only guess the scowl that Lucifer was burning into the back of his head. He tried searching for an excuse, but he was coming up dry.
-Dammit, Lucifer, any time but now!
"W-Well, ya see, dearest big bro--"
-Irritated, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He could feel a headache creeping on him. "That's what I thought. Mammon, my room. Now. I'm going to watch you finish your assignments, even if it takes all night."
[6 days away]
-Mammon simmered as he walked the hallway to Yuki's bedroom. Yuki had seen his messages, but zie was hardly responding to them, if zie did at all. The thought that he had unconsciously done or said something to offend Yuki teased his anxiety, but Mammon quickly squished it. Zie'd just been busy with work and had no off days, but according to Satan, zie only had one more shift.
-One more day that zie would be busy, but then after that zie'd have tons of free time. Yuki will be back by zir favorite demon's side, and then everything else will fall smoothly back into place.
-It was absurd how empty Mammon could feel with Yuki missing from his daily routines. It was worse than when zie had left, when all he could think about was zir where ever he went. Yuki was here though, so he didn't miss zir physically, not like when zie returned home.
-He missed talking with his human, about anything. He missed expecting to see zir when he turned his head. He was missing a piece of a puzzle, and it was aggravating when it was just in grasp, hiding from him.
-Yuki was going to receive a real earful. He deserved that much of complaining after how he'd been treated.
-That could wait though.
-It had been a while since Mammon and Yuki had gone out on a date, and he had just gotten paid from his latest photoshoot. He was confident if he met with Yuki face-to-face and invited zir out zie wouldn't say no.
-That had been the plan until he saw Yuki coming the down the corridor, walking with a purpose. An antsy feeling stabbed him in the gut.
-"Yuki!"
-Yuki froze mid-stride as Mammon approached zir. "Mammon."
-"Yeah, me! The Great Mammon has decided to bless ya with his presence since ya keep ignorin' my messages. Anyway! Guess who got paid today with a bonus? And guess who's gettin' treated to whatever they feel like tomorrow tonight?"
-"Sorry, Mammon, I can't. I have to go to the human world with Lucifer."
-"What'd'ya mean? I didn't hear nothin' 'bout Lucifer havin' to go to the human world."
"Regardless of what you did or didn't hear, it's true all the same. Yuki and I have an appointment in the human world and won't be back for a couple days. Your plans will have to be postponed for later."
-Why was something always blindsiding him lately?
-"What?! Well, if Yuki's goin', I'm goin' too!"
-"Absolutely not. I don't need you causing havoc when I take my eyes off you for more than a second. Don't worry, though, I'll need your company next week for a special trip to the human world."
-It had been quick, but Mammon had thought he had seen Yuki flicked zir eyes at Lucifer.
-"Mammon, it's just for a couple days. Do your best to tough it out. We'll hang out plenty after, okay?"
"Ya better keep your word."
[The Night Before]
-"Mammon, don't forget you're accompanying me to the human world tomorrow morning," Lucifer announced when everyone had sat down for dinner.
-"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Mammon replied. He wasn't the least bit interested in being ordered around doing paperwork and errands. Catching movement from his peripheral, Mammon noticed Yuki trying to look at him without being obvious. He just got zir back, and they had hardly spent any time together. He didn't want to leave, even if it was just a day. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Yuki. "You should definitely come too. You agree, don't ya, Yuki?"
-Yuki barely had the chance to open zir mouth, let alone formulate an answer, before Lucifer answered instead. "No, Yuki has other affairs to attend tomorrow. It's only a day, Mammon. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it, so don't complain."
-There wasn't any further comments about the trip, but Mammon made it obvious he was still hot under the collar with the way he stomped away, taking Yuki right along with him, when dinner concluded. He had been on cleaning duty with Belphie, but Lucifer offered in his place, quelling any complaints.
-Lucifer smiled amusedly to himself as he cleared the table. If only Mammon was aware enough to know what was planned for the day.
-"I can't believe that jerk," Mammon remarked as he dropped onto Yuki's bed. Yuki rolled zir eyes in response before sitting beside the grumpy demon. "I had plans I wanted to do tomorrow, ya know? Dammit! He just came back from the human world!"
-"Did you actually have plans?" Yuki asked it with a sarcastic tone, but zie was suddenly concerned. It was his birthday tomorrow, so maybe he had made plans that Yuki hadn't accounted for.
-Mammon glared at Yuki, his cheeks a shade darker than a moment prior, either from frustration or embarrassment wasn't certain. "I did," he stated softly.
"With who?"
"You, obviously!"
"Wait, we had plans tomorrow? What di--"
-Before Yuki could finish Mammon yanked zir down next to him, hugging zir tightly. Momentarily surprised, Yuki was slow to return the embrace. Zie expected him to be a bit clingy because zie'd been unavailable to be with him for a while, but this hug felt a bit too tight, desperate.
-"You said we could hang out after y'all returned from the human world, but we ain't had much time without being interrupted or the others butting in."
-"Ah. You're right," Yuki agreed. It's funny how zie had been planning this whole affair for Mammon, but in the process has unintentionally abandoned. Zie regretted that.
-"You're warm," he muttered into zir neck. "..I've missed ya like crazy. I've been dyin' to hug you, but it isn't actually enough now that I am. I'm not lettin' you go for the rest of the night."
-A soft sting of guilt hit Yuki's heart. Zie probably could have done a better job of trying to keep the surprise a secret without leaving Mammon completely in the dark, but between the jobs and helping Diavolo and classes taking up the majority of zir time... No, that wasn't an excuse. Yuki had hurt Mammon. That was obvious.
-Yuki entangled zir legs with Mammon's and reached zir arms around his waist, holding him close. Zie took a moment to just be with Mammon, inhaling his smell, hearing his heart beat. Zie had missed him too, a whole bunch, almost too much, but hopefully tomorrow would make up for the weeks of absence and neglect. "I missed you, too, Mammon. Just put up with it for a little bit longer."
[The Day!]
-"Happy birthday, Mammon!!"
-He had heard Yuki's voice before he had actually seen zir. He was flabbergasted to see zir come out of the cabin he had arrived at.
-When Mammon had woken up and joined the others for breakfast, Yuki had already left. It wasn't long after that Lucifer and he prepared for the trip to the human world. He had dragged his feet and groaned, making a show of not wanting to go. When Lucifer had sent Mammon ahead of him to get things ready, he thought it had been a punishment for his attitude, but after coming through the portal into the human world, he realized it wasn't in the city or anywhere near the hotel they usually stayed at.
-The scenery was beautiful and spacious, open in nature with cabins lining a sparking lake that had docks and piers dividing it. Unlike the city cramped full of people and towering buildings designed with glaring windows that bounced the bright sunlight off of them and funky smells, this area was full of trees that casted cool shadows and a refreshing breeze that rustled the leaves.
-Mammon was absolutely gobsmacked.
-Yuki beamed when zie saw the awestruck trance Mammon was in. Zie was hoping he'd like it. Mammon was definitely a city boy, but Yuki took a guess he enjoyed the lure of natural scenery too, based on their picnic date and walks through the forests.
-Mammon's daze broke when he saw Yuki approaching him. "What's goin' on, Yuki?"
-"C'mon, ya dummy, think! You didn't expect Lucifer to make you go on a business trip on your birthday, did you? It was his way of bringing you up here without being suspicious. Although, I thought you definitely would've caught on last week with what he said."
-He had completely forgotten about his birthday. Mammon had been entirely focused on Yuki and zir strange attitude that he'd spaced on even the date.
-"Oh."
-"Yeah, so," Yuki stepped back and spread zir arms out, displaying the lake on zir right and the cabin on zir left, "happy birthday... again! You mentioned a cabin by a lake as an ideal place to go, and you also wanted to rent a boat in the park, so I thought merging the two together would be a good idea! On top of that, I plan to 'spoil ya rotten all day'. What does the Great Mammon think?"
-"Ya know, I'm not deaf to the mocking tone. You're killin' the mood before it's even started, but I guess I can let it slide!"
[Final Hours]
-As the dimming daylight darkened through the pulled curtains, Yuki and Mammon lounged restfully on the couch. Mammon used Yuki's lap as a pillow as zie stroked zir fingers against his head. The tingling feeling traveled down his spine and relaxed his body. He could probably fall asleep in this position with Yuki brushing his hair with such tender touches. If they were at the House of Lamentation, they wouldn't be able to have this kind of moment without being interrupted by his brothers. Too bad the day was coming to an end.
-Dwelling on the negative thought caused him to unintentionally frown, and Yuki noticed the crease on his brow. Zie poked his forehead to get his attention, and his eyes opened to see Yuki leaning over him.
-"What are you thinking about?"
-"That we'll have to go back to the Devildom tomorrow. How am I s'posed to accept that after today? Today was too good to end like that, ya know?"
-Yuki hummed in agreement. Zie briefly looked away as a thoughtful expression morphed zir features. "Well," zie started, zir eyes focused back on Mammon, "I couldn't afford to stay for more than one night. My birthday is just a few months away, so maybe you could plan something for us, like when you rented the pool."
-Mammon felt a pang of short-lived guilt for complaining. Yuki had worked hard to save enough money to rent this cabin, even with Diavolo hooking zir up months in advance. "I still can't believe ya didn't just tell me. I was actually..."
-"Worried you did something? Sorry, Mammon. I should have said something, but I was nervous that I couldn't keep it a secret. I was too excited to not tell you, but then the jobs piled up and I promised to help Diavolo in exchange for talking the price down with the owner. I shouldn't have ignored you though. I'm sorry."
-There was a lull in their conversation, but it was only a slightly weighted silence. The misunderstandings were cleared up and today was one of the best days Mammon had ever had, spending it alone with Yuki. He would have enjoyed it even if it hadn't been his birthday and with Yuki pampering him all day.
-"C'mere," Mammon said as he placed a warm hand against the back of Yuki's neck, pulling zir down for a kiss. "You're goin' to have to take responsibility for my feelings. You're the reason I was stressin' out. The whole time you were busy workin' your ass off for this trip, I was thinkin' of you. As your first, I'm entitled to know what you're doin'. I'm gonna get my fill of ya tonight before we have to head home. I've got weeks worth to get outta ya."
-Yuki's cheeks heated as Mammon greedily kissed zir lips. Zie silently agreed that zie wanted to get the most out of Mammon while they were still alone, but one night of trying to cram almost a month and a half of time lost wasn't possible.
-"Your lips are warm," Mammon murmured as they separated. "That wasn't nearly enough to satisfy me though. I wanna show ya how much I appreciate you."
-"What, uh, what do you wanna do?"
-"Right now? Nothin'. Bein' with ya like this is enough for the moment. I love you, Yuki."
-An explosion of emotions surged through Yuki's chest to the rest of zir body, making zir giddy with adoration. Zie wasn't sure how zie was containing it, but staring down into Mammon's eyes, seeing his tinted cheeks, and him just relaxing with zir simultaneously fueled zir feelings more while also grounding zir.
-"I love you, too, Mammon."
#i didn't spite write a 4000k fic for Mammon's bday in two days or spent half a day editing it after posting it#nor am i disgusted with how i feel like i didn't write Mammon properly despite constantly checking screenshots and similar moments in-game#nor am i debating adding the smut back in because i wrote it poorly#couldn't be me#mammon deserves better regardless of canon or fanon content ugh#obey me#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x mc#jess writes
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jeongguk; a royal exchange (02)
feat. the rom-com college!jeongguk x princess!reader au no one asked for
she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement.
notes: p.2 is a straight up roll of pure crack and fluff. lil sexy for like .2 seconds. super self indulgent and inspired by the princess diaries. princess is stressed the whole time and we live to see her suffer
w.c: 7.1k
01, 02
“I’m sure this is probably the hundredth time you’ve heard since you’ve landed, but welcome to Illyria! The palace welcomes you to your new home away from home.”
“Ho-ly,” Jeongguk slaps a hand in front of Taehyung’s offending tongue, in case swearing is forbidden on royal territory. Wouldn’t want their scholarships taken away over Taehyung’s potty mouth.
“Excuse me, Mr. Hoseok, sir?” an exchange student from a university in New Zealand (yet Korean-born, ironically) pipes up, “why does the infrastructure of the building look like that?”
The student is referring to the ravines of gold metal that stream the walls of the palace. While the architecture is classic, the sheen of the metal definitely gives it an air of regality.
“Good question, Namjoon. The castle is wired and designed after our main export, Illyrium. The element was discovered in the early 1850s in what is now the ruins of Oros,” Hoseok quips brightly, patting the stone affectionately. “It has a conductivity percentage of 106% percent, more than silver. It is also quite durable.”
Namjoon’s deep laugh echoes throughout the pavilion, “I was just asking because it makes the castle so beautiful. Thank you.”
Jeongguk takes the time to snap more pictures of the castle, switching between his Sony and his phone. He zooms in on a low balcony overlooking the terrace they landed from. A figure rolls into his shot, stumbling barefoot with a ruby silk robe swishing between steps. You’re tired, sleep-laden as you clutch a snow white mug between your two hands, leaning your elbows against the metal bearing. You’re staring at nothing and everything, glazed over your backyard that seems to stretch on for eons.
“You’re right,” Jeongguk marvels at your visage between his lens, “absolutely beautiful.”
“Can I please get a better assignment, Jimin?”
“Your highness,” Jimin frowns, following after you, “you love teaching the exchange students, what has changed?”
“Exactly, Jimin,” you sigh, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Jimin’s nose nearly bumps into yours, “nothing has changed. I teach students every quarter, the same subjects every time. It’s not to say that I don’t love teaching,” you exhale, blowing into Jimin’s honeycomb bangs, “but can’t I have a more challenging assignment? Conversing with dignitaries, renovating the town square, I’ll even do culinary!”
Your poor secretary squeaks, pushing up his rose gold iPad to carve some distance between you two. “You-you know those jobs aren’t suitable for a Princess,” Jimin cuts himself off once he sees your eyes soften in defeat, “b-but! I’ll see if Hoseok would be willing to take on another class? And maybe we could arrange a presentation to the King in regards to your proposals?”
“Right,” you smile sadly, folding your arms and stretching the tight blazer your mother forced you in, “as if another Google Slideshow will impress him.”
Jimin squeezes your shoulder, as if he could tell you all the things he could never say through body language. “Showtime’s in two minutes, your highness.”
You nod, making haste to the large double doors that lead to the main living room. Normally, the scholarship program’s presentation is done in the throne room, a big show of bravado and an ego booster to your family. However, this particular class is entirely post-grad and under ten students, so you figure they were placed in a more intimate area for the sake of comfort.
Jimin pulls a lint roller out of nowhere, careful to catch every bit of dust that dares meet your presence. You tug uncomfortably at your collar, and give the signal to the door bearer. You fight the urge to flinch at the usual bombastic announcement.
“Introducing, the Princess of Illyria!”
The students and staff are bowing when you enter, and you send a look to Yoongi, who only offers you a lazy smirk. It’s a look you’ve feared since childhood, an explicit tell that he knows something you don’t. Nevertheless, you tack on a smile, standing in front of the ten students who are still dutifully lowered. You have to hand it to them, the undergrads would already be turning heads to get a peek at the princess.
“You may rise,” you voice floats. As mother always said, your voice must replicate a dandelion seed, bouncing in the wind.
The student directly in front of you elevates, a pair of doe eyes taking his sweet time to appreciate the view.
Jeon Jeongguk gives you a lazy smirk, mirroring your brother’s. The smile evaporates from your face, taking in the handsome man that you lived with for two months over two years ago. His eyes have certainly not lost their spark, but his hair is trimmed and showing off his forehead. A Sony camera wraps around his neck, held tightly by a strong pair of hands. He’s even dressed brightly, wearing a navy blazer over a plain white tee and a pair of dark jeans. Something twinges in your heart when you see that a familiar pair of black combat boots remain.
Jeongguk is the first to break eye contact, deciding to at least pretend to care about Hoseok’s presentation on the flatscreen. An overplayed video about Illyria’s history drones on, while Hoseok and Jimin are exchanging schedules in between. You’re sure that Jimin is passing on your word about choosing not to teach this quarter, and now it’s personal.
This urges the students to take seats on the couches, while staff floats around with various pastries and refreshments.
Your family takes their respective seats, and you fight the urge to pinch Yoongi as you hiss, “You knew about this?”
“Surprise,” Yoongi sing-songs, munching on a linzer cookie. “I handpicked all the students.”
“Couldn’t give your sister a heads up?” you snap hotly, making sure no one was looking as you pop a whole cream puff in your mouth.
“Sorry,” Yoongi leans over the shell of your ear, “Your hot ex-roommate is here, just wanted to let you know before you eat the dessert table.”
You mouth a fuck you, taking a stab at him under the table with your heeled foot.
After Yoongi’s not-so-subtle reveal of each other’s identities in a crowded Chinese restaurant two years ago, you’ve since cut off all contact with Jeon Jeongguk as you resumed your life as Princess of Illyria. Simultaneously shocked, but not surprised due to the obvious hints of suspicion, Jeongguk had forgiven your lie and allowed you to leave in good spirits. You remember leaving him at the front door of your dorm, hugging you warmly and bidding you safe travels.
It confused you, because it would've been easier to leave if Jeongguk had gotten angry at the complete breach of trust and kicked you out.
Hoseok is now presenting a slideshow of the intended schedule and itinerary for all students. You’re now glaring at the back of Jeongguk’s head, trying your damn hardest not to shove three brownies in your mouth in the presence of guests. Your tiny dessert spoon picks pathetically at the measly crumbs, and Jimin is urging you to smile from his position opposite you.
“And as always, our lovely princess will be conducting our class on Modern Illyrian Anthropology and will be organizing your field studies!” Hoseok practically shouts across the room, where you’re sitting wide-eyed with your family. You feel Yoongi reach over to dab the crumbs off your lips, enjoying your suffering.
You shoot a look at Jimin who was supposed to take care of things, and he gives you a pained expression that reads don’t fire me.
With a tight-lipped smile and feigning ignorance to Jeongguk’s interest in you teaching, you reply to the expectant students, “It’s always a pleasure to teach, I promise to not bore you with Illyrian history, that’s Hoseok’s job.”
“Hey!” he scrunches his nose, then turns to the students who are hiding their giggles, “Better get on her good side if you want a nice field assignment.” he warns good-naturedly, giving you a mock glare.
You suppose giving Jeongguk a field assignment far, far away from the castle.
After the long-winded presentation and a handful of brochures, the royal family is escorted out to retire for the day. As the youngest in the family you're the last one to leave.
Out the doorway you hear Taehyung utter, "That's her? What a babe!"
As to not arouse suspicion, it takes longer than anticipated to get a private moment with Jeongguk. No one but Taehyung and Jimin know of your circumstances, and it is to remain that way due to the fact that you and Yoongi committed fraud, royal or not.
Jeongguk is a quiet student, surprisingly. Choosing a seat by the window, he spends most of your classes doodling and looking out the pavilion. As stimulating as Namjoon and Irene’s questions are, you’re a little disheartened at the fact that Jeongguk has made little effort to talk to you, even if it’s as impersonal as classwork or office hours.
Today Hoseok’s teaching, and that gives you ample time to work out where you want to assign the students for field study. You’ve shaken off Jimin for now, and you’re currently roaming the halls with your phone, checking off your schedule.
Called the Museum of Modern Illyrian Art for Namjoon … check.
Sent staff to the villa in prep for the kiddies’ weekend getaway … check.
Sent e-vites and physicals to the Genovian royals … next.
Find a quiet corner to stress cry before 2:30—
A hand flies out of nowhere, grabbing your waist roughly and throwing you in a small room. The hand clasped over your mouth swallows your scream as the door shuts tight.
The captor turns on the singular lightbulb, grinning at you like a madman. “Hey Princess—what the fuck!”
You grimace, putting down your switchblade that was dangerously close to Jungkook’s jugular. “What the hell, Jeongguk! I could’ve killed you!”
“Dang, princesses are something else nowadays. Where on your body are you hiding knives?” Jeongguk marvels as if he wasn’t ten seconds away from being dead!Guk, patting down your lavender pantsuit in a way that’s highly inappropriate. “What are you, Ty Lee?”
“Self-defense secret,” and under your breath you add, “and Mai’s the one who hides knives. Ty Lee’s the acrobat.”
The grin easily returns to the tall boy’s face, burnt eyes shining against the naked bulb. This is the most emotion you’ve got out of him since classes started, and it’s doing nothing to ease the butterflies in your stomach. “So, come here often?”
“To the storage closet?” you snort, “not particularly.”
“And where’s a place I can go that you do come often?”
“My office hours,” you deadpan, “in which you haven’t visited, by the way. As a friend and as a teacher, I’m insulted.”
A low whine erupts from his throat, and he leans against the shelves, long arms spread across the three-ply toilet paper. “But your little secretary’s always there. It’s awkward when we’re not alone. I don't know if I should act like a friend or a student. Speaking of, where is he?”
“Ah, Jimin’s getting Starbucks.”
“Lit, can you tell him to pick me up a pink drink?”
“No,” but you send a text to Jimin anyway. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
“I’m supposed to be coming back from the bathroom,” he air-quotes, “AKA, running around the palace until I can corner you.”
You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your blazer.
“Are you annoyed at me?” and for a second, Jungkook’s eyes betray a hint of vulnerability. “Am I being too forward? Or do you not want to catch up? I don’t know, I figured you’d be excited to see me but you’ve just been so busy.”
“Jeongguk,” you put a hand on his shoulder, ceasing the rambling. He opens his mouth to add more, but you squeeze his bicep. “I’m not annoyed at you. I’m annoyed at the situation. I’ve missed you,” you offer him a shy smile, and he returns a small, hopeful one in return, “but you’re right, it’s been really busy with the usual duties and I’ve been a little on edge with keeping things together without letting any secrets out.”
You’re also confused as to why you’re still harboring feelings for him, but that’s another secret you keep to yourself.
“Well, your duty is doo-dy.” Jungkook huffs, but is placated by your confession. “Don’t worry Princess, I’ll think of something.”
A knock startles the both of you, and Jeongguk squeaks, brandishing a plunger in defense. With a dainty finger, you push the plumbing tool back to the ground, as the knockings did not stop.
“Ohmygod—am I going to be beheaded for kidnapping the Princess?” Jeongguk panics and checks his phone, realizing his bathroom break turned into a straight up game of hooky. “Do you guys still behead? I mean if you’re pulling out knives from who knows where—”
“Guk, relax,” recognizing it immediately as a code between you and your brother, you swing the supply closet open.
Yoongi looks between the two of you, gauging the situation. When he notices that no, you two did not just romp between the 3-ply and were in fact only talking, he huffs. “Losers,” he mutters under his breath, hiding a grin as he leaves you two to splutter.
It’s already well over twenty minutes past your class time, but Taehyung just wouldn’t shut up.
You can’t blame him, he’s thrilled that you managed to snag him a field study with your personal couture designer. He’s lit up like a good boy on Christmas eve, getting his present early. He’s gushing about how excited he is to use authentic Swarovski crystals and rub noses with the fancy fabrics.
“I’ll make you the perfect dress for the upcoming gala, Your Highness.” Taehyung’s vibrating in a manner you never imagined on a human before.
“Thank you,” you reply awkwardly, “I’m sorry, but what gala are you referring to?”
He shrugs, “I’m sure there’s a gala you have to go to sometime. I’ve just always wanted to say that, makes me feel special.”
“Tae,” Jeongguk is sitting on your desk, heels bumping into the mahogany. With a stiff jerk of his head, Tae’s lips morph into an ‘O’ and he finally gets the hint, bowing to you and scurrying off.
“Y’know, his fashion’s kind of eccentric.” he nods over to the excessive fur lining on Taehyung’s slippers, “I’d make sure your designer keeps a close eye on him.”
“And what do I owe the pleasure of your presence,” you click, “twenty minutes after class?”
Jeongguk has the audacity to roll his eyes, rolling his head back to crack out the stiffness. “The chamber choir, really?” he exhales, dropping the itinerary you spent the better half of your nights preparing.
You raise your eyebrows, “What? It pertains to your major.”
“For the past six years all I've done is eat, sleep, and breathe music,” he says, and you’re suddenly reminded that you had a glimpse of that version of Jeongguk two years ago. A slave to the music, as much as he loved the subject, it sometimes felt like a tether that weaved far too deeply under his skin. “Can’t my field assignment be something different? More eclectic?”
“Do you have anything in mind?”
“In fact, I do.” Jeongguk lolls his head to the side, chestnut bangs falling softly. “For my field study, I want to shadow the Princess’ duties.”
You slam your hands down, standing up so you’re nearly nose-to-nose with the young man. “Are you crazy? Do you want Yoongi and I to get caught?”
“Listen, I’ve thought about it all throughout class—”
“—what? You didn’t listen to my lecture?—”
“—and today in class you mentioned that you graduated with a Master’s in Public Affairs, because in fact I always listen to you,” Jeongguk presses a finger to your lips when you try to cut him off, “and lo and behold, one of my minors was in public affairs! What better way to get more experience in the business when I have the master right in front of me?”
“I don’t know, Guk,” you try, mulling through all the possible situations and horrors that could occur because of it.
“Princess, we’re killing two birds with one stone!” Jeongguk pleads, giving you the puppy eyes, “not only do I get a far better field study assignment, but it’s far better because I get to spend more time with you!”
You hate how absolutely weak you’ve become under his gaze. In the span of less than three weeks, Jeon Jeongguk has re-entered your life like he never left. He wanted to spend time with you. The selfish part of your brain says you wish the same. Who are you to deny such a simple desire?
“Fine,” you spit out, putting up a front and pretending to be annoyed, “but you better not get all huffy around Jimin.”
He shrugs, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Worth it.”
“You’re different,” Jeongguk states bluntly, actively ignoring the way Jimin tries to push between you two. Jeongguk continues to press into your shoulder as you weave through the gardens. You’re picking flowers for a specific theme arrangement and pattern. A diplomat from Spain is coming and he is bringing her young daughter. You've heard that she’s recently taken in interest in constructing flower crowns.
“Well, two years can do that to a person,” you reply airily, dropping a tiger lily in the wicker basket Jeongguk insisted on carrying.
Having Jeongguk follow you around like a duckling is fun, to be frank. Jimin is no longer hyper-focused on you, forcing him to spread his attention between you and your overly-attentive student. Jeongguk can’t attend every single one of your events because some of the information’s sensitive, but when he does it makes your job feel less of a job and more like a fun group project.
Like when you and Jeongguk would stumble in the farmer’s market every Sunday morning, hungover but aching to fill your bellies. You two were walking zombies, forcing yourselves out of bed to feed yourselves. But it was always fun because you were together, whenever it was Jeongguk’s turn to pay, you’d sneak in more KitKats for yourself. Whenever it was your turn, Jeongguk would smuggle more cartons of banana milk.
“No, no. It’s not that,” your friend admonishes instantly, “your personality’s still the same, even though it was Yoongi-fied. Your heart hasn’t changed,” you turn your head sharply towards a field of carnations, concealing your flush. “I mean, you’re more confident.”
“In other words,” Jimin pipes, looking up from his iPad, “an air of regality.”
You scoff, putting a hand on your hip and looking expectantly at the two boys. “You’ve changed too, Guk,” you reason, shaking your head. “Old Jeongguk wouldn’t be wearing white dress shirts and shoving princesses in closets.”
“You shoved the princess in a closet—!” Jimin starts, having half a mind to cancel the field study all together.
“Well, Old Jeongguk didn’t have a chance to really get to know you,” Jeongguk twirls a baby’s breath between his fingers, tucking it in-between your ear. “That’s New Jeongguk’s job.”
“So, you’re the Princess’ head of security,” Jeongguk tilts his head to look up at the slightly taller man, his visage covered by a pair of shades. The bodyguard is never really present, only when citizens enter the castle or you’re out of town. “You know you’re inside, right?”
The man only slightly inclines his head to acknowledge Jeongguk’s prodding. Hmph, he looks like a talker.
“If you’re her head of security,” Jeongguk leans closer, trying to avoid any further attention to his conversation, “do you know where she hides her knives? Because sometimes she wears those tight pencil skirts and I can’t help but wonder—”
“That’s classified.”
“Alright, where do you hide your knives—”
“Also classified.”
“Jeongguk,” you relent, sliding your footrest next to your throne, “leave Seokjin alone and come here, please.”
You can’t blame him. It’s always been a pastime of yours to ruffle Seokjin’s feathers, but you must admit that meeting with citizens is a long and frankly, boring process. The routine is fairly simple, the citizen bows and offers something for the table, and in return you lend your ear and offer assistance if possible.
“For your table, Your Highness,” the next citizen bows, carrying a foil-lined tray filled with fresh baked bread.
“Smells delicious, Bertrand.” you beam, ripping open the tin to snatch a hot slice off the top. Rosemary and thyme are egg washed atop the brown bread, and you proffer a piece to Jeongguk, as you could imagine the poor guy is as antsy as ever. “And may I introduce you to my student, Jeon Jeongguk? He’s studying my diplomacy for his field study.”
Bertrand tips his head, “Lucky you, she’s a true leader.”
Jeongguk nods shyly, nibbling on the crust. “Truly an honor.”
Jeongguk offers to bring the gift to the table with the other offerings across the room, and you nod, conversing lightly with Bertrand. His worries are simple enough, he feels pressured by a catering request from an Illyrian Duke, and wishes to serve a party fit for a royal. In resolution, you offer to send a palace chocolatier and chef to help with the preparations. Jeongguk returns to his seat next to yours just as Bertrand leaves. He pulls up his iPad, feigning notes that he should be writing while observing you.
The next citizen hobbles over, holding a large ivory wicker basket covered by a beige tarp. “For your table, Your Highness,” they bow, “I hope you like omelets.”
If you weren’t on the throne with an audience of one-hundred, you’d be delivering a very confused expression, coupled with panic. “May I?” you inquire, forcing a smile as you lift open the tarp.
In the basket there are two small jars of marmalade, and one huge chicken sitting fat and proud that its skin overflows between the gaps of the wicker. Its head twitches in your direction, barely turning because its neck is hugely bulbous with excess weight. Its beady little eyes mock you. It smells fear.
“Her name’s Dixie,” the citizen supplied helpfully.
“Holy shit,” Jeongguk whispers next to you, but not soft enough for it to not echo in the throne room, “Dixie, you are a thick chick.”
“Jeongguk!” you exclaim, which causes the whole room to reverb at your shrill cry.
Of course the chicken has to freak out, flapping its wings and freeing itself from the confines of its package. The animal dives for you, and you press yourself as much as you can against the throne. Jeongguk knows no bounds, throwing himself in front of you to catch the large bird. Feathers weave unto his umber tresses as the bird meets gravity, Jeongguk unable to calm down Dixie.
It’s more or less a wild goose chase (chicken chase?) after that, Jeongguk follows Dixie down the platform and around the throne room. The citizens and staff are clutching their stomachs in laughter, endeared by the young man following the chicken. Jimin is laughing and slapping Seokjin’s shoulder, his face breaking in an unabashed smile.
And you can’t help but laugh along with them, trying to smother your giggles by covering your face with a silk fan. You peek over the thin fabric to see Jeongguk looking especially concentrated on his mission. It wasn’t like the chicken was going to escape the throne room because the doors are closed, but surely it will be a workout as Dixie’s a trooper and isn’t going down without a fight.
“Don’t worry Princess, I got this!” Jeongguk’s voice reassures you from the far edge of the throne room. He’s taken a break, but the glint in his eyes show he’s committed to catching Dixie as she scuttles in circles.
He flashes you a breathtaking smile, all gums and pearly whites as he runs a hand through his wavy locks. Your smile falls slightly, and you clutch your fan tighter at the realization. Oh, you are besotted.
“Hoseok’s had me on my back about teaching a full class before your weekend getaway but I’ve long decided,” you lift your chin haughtily in a way only princesses do, jutting out your lip in confirmation, “that you should enjoy the time you have here. Summer’s almost over. You all should get a headstart on your packing so you can get to the beach early.”
Your class erupts into hoots and hollers, the Powerpoint presentation about the minerals of Illyria long abandoned. Two months have already passed, and in a couple weeks they’ll be saying their goodbyes. A twinge of sadness hits you as you relish in your students’ happy smiles. As each semester passes, each group leaves something behind you’ll never forget. This summer, as much as you taught them, you’ve learned a lot from them as well.
Students are already starting to pack up, but Namjoon’s butt is firmly planted in his seat, raising his hand. “Sorry, I have a question.”
You smile goodnaturedly, already used to his usual spiel. “I can email you the Powerpoint and we can go over whatever you want on Monday.”
“Ah, no. I was wondering if you were coming with us,” Namjoon mutters sheepishly.
You’re surprised, even moreso when Irene and Yerin insist that you should go. “Yes, you have to go!” Yerin bounces in her seat.
“Oh,” you blush, “I can’t. I don’t normally go on these things, wouldn’t it be weird to have your teacher at your party?”
“Hell no!” Yerin gasps shamelessly. It’s one thing you liked about this class, after class is over, they always managed to make you feel normal. Maybe it’s the closeness in age and education, but they remind you so often that you’re still young. After all, they weren’t Illyrian, and while outside of class they put on the whole shebang for you, it didn’t take long for them to get comfortable around you. “We can show you what real college life is like! We can roast barbeque on the beach and tell scary stories!”
Taehyung snorts, already halfway out the door, “I’m sure the Princess doesn’t wanna see you shitfaced in the ocean.”
You placate Yerin with a small smile, “I have to work after this, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Namjoon walks up to your desk as the rest of the students file out. He runs the spine of his journal along your desk, “Prince Yoongi and Hoseok will be there too, if it makes you feel any better. Hope you can come.”
The room is soon vacated, leaving you and your Star Student alone.
“‘I’ll see what I can do’, really?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, plopping himself atop your desk. Your eyes snap to the way the dark denim cords around his thighs, and you make a deal of slamming your laptop shut. “C’mon, of course you wanna come. I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Not really,” you admit. “I used to really like spending the weekend at the villa. I loved getting to know each class and know what it feels like to be like you guys,” you downplay yourself, stuffing books and electronics in your briefcase. “But ever since we roomed together two years ago, I can’t bring myself to go anymore. It’s not the same when you’ve actually had a taste of it.”
Jeongguk’s eyes soften at your confession. You could feel that he wasn’t prepared for your honesty, and you don’t blame him. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I leave in two weeks, you know.”
“I know.”
“Can you at least try to come, for me?”
You lift your head up to reach his eyes, looking equal parts nervous and vulnerable. You’re suddenly thrusted back to two years ago, cornered in your dorm room where Jeongguk was upset at the thought of hurting him, lying to him. You didn’t want to hurt him, or yourself.
But as Jeongguk’s large hand reaches across the desk to your smaller one, you don’t think to pull away.
“Your Highness!” Jimin interrupts the two of you, and Jeongguk snatches his hand back with a glare. Jimin ignores him, looking breathless as he leans against the door of your classroom. “Your 3 o’clock is ready. We have to hurry if we want to get through the crowd.”
With one last look, Jeongguk excuses himself, brushing past Jimin with a gruff “Bye, Princess.”
“Today’s not your day to meet with citizens,” Yoongi mumbles next to you, looking disapprovingly at the way you wait for the next citizen to approach you.
Seokjin holds the crowd off as you converse with your brother, who looks ready to leave to the villa. He’s dressed in a plain white t-shirt, foam slides and baggy slacks. If it wasn’t for the family crest proudly presented on his right breast pocket, he could easily be mistaken as the average citizen. “Mother insisted,” you reply shortly, growing more irritated by the second.
“Really?” his brows disappear under his bangs, “because from the way she said it, you were looking for work.”
Caught, you turn away from his watchful gaze. “I have a problem, okay?” you say stiffly, “I needed a distraction.”
“Alright,” Yoongi shrugs, leaning close to your ear to murmur, “where’s the dead body?”
You slap his arm, “Yoongi! I didn’t kill anybody!”
“At this rate, it looks like you’re wasting yourself away.” Yoongi replies bluntly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “C’mon, Loverboy was all pouty in my room not too long ago. Don’t disappoint him.”
With that, Yoongi turns on his heel and walks off. Citizens bow at him like dominos as he exits, your break definitively over.
Whatever is blooming between you and Jeongguk, is and never will be fair to the both of you. In your eyes Jeongguk isn’t the type to settle, not relationship-wise, but life-wise. He wanted to grow and cultivate his art, and taste freedom every step of the journey.
You weren’t freedom or growth, and you could only hope he realizes that before you become too selfish.
“Your Highness?” you break out of your reverie when a young woman your age looks at you shyly, “My name is Wendy. I didn’t get anything for the table but, I got you a caramel macchiato.”
She brandishes a venti iced caramel macchiato, condensation dripping from her fingers. Your face lights up, accepting the caffeinated drink. “I really needed this!” you perk up immediately, taking a sip and letting the cool flavor soothe your tastebuds. “Thank you, Wendy. What is it that you request?”
“Advice,” she admits, a blush creeping from her neck. She looks down at her work boots, caked in grime. “I’m an engineer who works in manufacturing Illryian technology.”
“We are eternally grateful for your service to this country,” you reply evenly. Engineers are highly revered in your country, as your economy is dependent on their brilliant minds.
“But I have fallen in love with a man who is under my station, and wishes to find work elsewhere,” she bites her lip, her eyes growing glassy. “I haven’t told him my feelings yet, however I’m also worried for my family who finds men like him to be unworthy of an engineer like myself.”
“Ah, bound by duty and expectation.” you reply grimly, “a rock and a hard place, huh?”
“Yes, forgive me for my crassness. I felt as if you would understand my predicament.”
Putting your drink down, you reach for her hand. Oil and dirt cake her fingers, and she attempts to pull away as to not soil you, but you hold on tighter. “Tell him how you feel, Wendy.” you whisper, a conversation so intimate it’s only proper it be for her ears and her ears only. “Whether he leaves or not after you tell him is his decision. However, I assure you it will hurt far more if you don’t give yourself a chance.”
Her voice cracks, “But what if it doesn’t work out?”
You start to feel a little teary at her candor, and you run a thumb over her palm. “Then you’re one heartbreak closer to happiness. Nevertheless, you are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.”
Wendy finds the strength to squeeze your hand, and you belatedly realize that if this piece of advice was personified, it’d be slapping the shit out of you.
“You came!”
Hopped up on bitter caffeine and potential regrets, you stand in the living room well past midnight, party in full swing. Jimin trails behind you sans iPad, feeling lighter in a pair of trunks and a black tank. A playlist of Namjoon’s organizing is blasting from the surround sound, coupled with the flatscreen television projecting an intense lap of MarioKart. Irene and Taehyung are shoulder to shoulder, concentrating on getting that Mushroom Cup. The sliding doors that lead from your villa to the beach are cracked open, wide enough to hear the conversations the other students are exchanging.
It was always nice to have your villa occupied like this. Less empty, more familial.
Yerin is the first to greet you, throwing her arms around you and smelling like seasalt and vodka. She’s drenching your clothes, clad in a yellow polka-dot one-piece. “This weekend’s gonna be killer,” she whispers in your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to rise. For a petite thing, she really wastes no time cutting to the chase.
You detach yourself, holding up a bag of pastries. “Snagged some munchies for your inevitable drunk crash,” you smirk, placing the container on the kitchen island.
Yerin gapes, red tinted lips mouthing an ‘o’ at your language. “You’ve been hidin’ out on us, haven’t you Princess?” Yerin then brushes past you, ready to get her fingers on the confections. You’re over her shoulder, pointing out both Illrian delicacies and pastries she’s familiar with.
After Irene snags the Mushroom Cup they’re joining you at the island, lips coated in powdered sugar and jam. The girls laugh when some powdered sugar gets into Taehyung’s hair, Irene patting him a little too hard on his bangs.
“You’re here!”
You whip around to see Jeongguk sliding the glass doors hurriedly, bare feet slapping across the tiled floor to reach you. He’s dripping wet, ocean water rivering around his body. Your eyes can’t help but follow the flow of the cool liquid, finding purchase between the planes of his chest and honeyed abs, glowing from the heat.
Three years of your life were spent studying preparation and execution for war or nuclear threat. Unfortunately, at this very moment you feel way more prepared for war than Jeon Jeongguk standing in your villa, looking like that.
Instead of the usual pleasantries, you hold up a leather wallet. “You left this in the classroom,” you chide.
It’s a baldfaced lie. Somehow, Jeongguk’s wallet had conveniently ended up in your office between reams of paper. The bastard himself has the audacity to feign surprise, coral lips gaping in relief. “Wow, Princess. Totally not a ploy to get you to come here.”
“Right.”
“Give it here, I’ll drop it off in my room.”
“Wait, wait!” you hold up both your hands, centimeters away from Jeongguk’s pecs. You’re nearly eye level with them, and you force yourself to look up at his smug face. “You’re dripping wet on the tile! Your feet still have sand you heathen! Do not get our carpets dirty!” you hold the wallet to your chest protectively, “where’s your room?”
He tilts his head adorably, droplets flecking from his slicked back mane. “Third door on the right.” he doesn’t dare to argue with your sudden passion to keep your villa clean.
You nod, “go enjoy the water. I’ll be right out.” You don’t give him a chance to reply, kicking off your sandals as you reach the cosier part of the villa. Soft carpet meets your toes as you pad off to the guest bedrooms.
Jeongguk managed to snag the corner room, albeit smaller, it’s a single with a full mattress. You see his Superdry backpack open on the floor, its bottom worn with the white lining peeking through. Despite only arriving in the afternoon, his fresh scent is palpable. You drop the wallet on his desk, and you notice that his laptop’s still on.
The Macbook Pro glows confidently, his screensaver revealing a photograph of you on your balcony.
“Snooping around, Princess?”
You whip around, seeing Jeongguk appear fully clothed, running a towel over his hair. He is no longer dripping water or sand, but he still smelled like salt and fire. He nonchalantly closes the door behind him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.
“You know it’s illegal to take unsolicited pictures of royalty, right?”
“And who should I answer to, hm? The Princess?” he teases, face blooming from the fluffy white towel.
You’re not upset about the picture, he knows that. But there you sit, slumped over his desk, looking forlornly at his picture of you.
“I’ve locked the door,” Jeongguk pipes up, looking at you worriedly. “Yoongi mentioned that the room’s are soundproof. He said you looked upset today. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
The room feels smaller, swallowing you whole. You’re tired from today’s events, both emotionally and physically. Jeongguk is having nothing of it, reaching between the two of you to pull the arms of the desk chair, wheeling you between his thighs.
“Jeongguk,” you start, “why weren’t you mad at me when you were right? Right about me hiding something from you.”
His brows furrow, “You made a sacrifice and protected your brother. Why would I be mad at that?” he says honestly, “sure, I was upset at first. Who wouldn’t be? But you did it out of love.”
You smile wanly, knowing that there wasn’t going to be a chance that he’d be upset at you. It was out of your devices. “I wanted you to be mad,” you admit, wringing your fingers between your skirt, “it would’ve made it easier to leave.”
“It would’ve, wouldn’t it?” he replies, his voice cotton soft. “After you left, Yoongi wouldn’t let me talk to you on the phone. Said you needed time. But I got him to tell me stories about you, stories that made me realize that I missed getting to know you.”
It’s then you feel the weight of today express itself onto your cheeks, the wetness dampening your skin. You feel his thumb brush away the tears.
“Tell me,” Jeongguk requests softly, “tell me what you really feel.”
You let your head collapse in his hands, relishing the warmth and comfort it brings. “I feel hurt. And confined.”
“More,” Jeongguk bids, his other hand squeezing your thigh, “let it out, Princess.”
You are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.
“I miss acting like fools at the grocery store, falling on top of each other half-asleep.” Everything tumbles out shamelessly, like a waterfall. “I hate how frustrated I am when you call me Princess, because while it is my title, it turns me on in the most devastating way when you say it.” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to see his reaction. “I want to laugh with you, hold you, I want you, so badly. But I want you to be happy, to make music and art, and travel the world to find your muse,” you shake your head, pushing yourself away from him. “I feel so stuck here, I can’t hold you back when you’re free and—”
“That’s enough bullshit,” and he’s kissing you, a clashing of teeth that has you sensitive and reeling. His hands grasp your cheeks, and you’re stumbling in your chair as the wheels make moves on their own. You squeak against his lips before you’re wheeled back to the bed. Hot hands pull you forward to teeter your body onto the bed, keeping you in place.
The man in question breaks apart, but close enough that his lips brush against yours when he speaks, “I’ve never kissed a princess before,” Jeongguk says wryly, cupping your cheek, “but if you make one more gripe about freedom and your stupid self-righteousness and I’ll stop.”
A pure, unprepared whine escapes your lips, shame be damned.
“You’re my muse,” he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I bothered Yoongi for weeks, working tooth and nail for that scholarship,” a kiss on both your nose, “you’re what it means to feel free.”
And that’s all it takes for you to surge forward, toppling over him until he’s pushed against the headboard. Capturing your lips with his, you catch droplets of saltwater and a flavor that’s so distinctly Jeongguk, feeling high off the taste.
Your skirt rides to your waist, your underwear damp from the ocean and arousal. You straddle him, feeling so unbounded and free as Jeongguk lets you do what you’ve both wanted to do. With a roll of your hips Jeongguk grunts, forehead pressed to yours. “Princess,” he rasps, meeting your thrusts, “we have until Christmas to do this, no need to rush.”
Wait, Christmas?
Jeongguk grins, kissing away your surprise. For now, you’ll ignore the burn between your thighs. “Before we left today, Yoongi and I asked the King, your father, if he would consider extending my scholarship for a full semester. I mentioned that Yoongi and I had some unfinished projects from undergrad,” he pecks your lips, “and he’s going to help me produce a full album for my final thesis.”
“That’s amazing!” you cheer, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so proud of the two of you!”
“Mhm,” he nuzzles your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your skin, “can’t produce anything without my muse around, so I’d say Illyria is the perfect location.”
Your fingers thread into his damp locks, and you feel your heart swell with happiness. Here, under the gaze of the beautiful boy who wanted to offer you his heart and his world, you felt free.
extra.
It takes the strength of both your hands to pull Jeongguk in the storage closet, but it isn’t like he’s putting up a fight anyhow.
“Come here often?” you drawl, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Impressive,” he chuckles, “usually it takes you an hour to shake Jimin off ya. It’s only been thirty-five minutes.”
“I just wanted to show you something funny,” you pull up your Instagram, and play the featured video. While it was posted weeks ago, it started to pick up traction after Yoongi liked the post this morning. Jeongguk is dashing around the palace, sweating bullets and cooing “c’mon Dixie!” to the sprinting chicken in the throne room.
“You’re viral!” you giggle, “you put Illyria on the social media map!”
Under the lowlights, it’s still easy to see Jeongguk’s skin has gone placid. “If I ever hit it big, that shit better not haunt me,” he groans into your neck.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, “every famous person has a backstory. Aubrey Graham had Degrassi and the Yodeling Wal-Mart boy–”
“Are you really gonna compare your boyfriend to the Yodeling Wal-Mart kid? Tell me what you really came here for,” And like a teenager, Jeongguk reels it back in, winding his hands around your waist. He gives you bedroom eyes like it's a session of Seven Minutes in Heaven, “so, we’re gonna make out or what?”
#jungkook#jungkook fic#bts fic#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jeongguk#jungkook fluff#kpop#kpop fic#kpop fanfic#jjk#royal au#college au#bts x reader
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I wouldn't mind that post on VNs!
So I was gonna write three different lists, but then after writing the first part I realized this is very long and takes a while to write and nobody cares anyway so I’ll just post my recommended list only. Well, I mean, you asked, but I doubt you wanted all this lol. Thank you for giving me an excuse to talk about this stuff, though. Hope you enjoy my ramblings!
An explanation for what this list is: Sometimes I know a game isn't perfect in many aspects but I still had a genuinely good time playing it, hence why I'm recommending it. Also I should mention that I could talk for hours about some of these games so if anyone’s curious about more of my thoughts, let me know.
Alright, now that that's out of the way ...
How to Take Off Your Mask / How to Fool a Liar King / How to Sing to Open Your Heart (f/m): This is a trilogy of smaller, single-RO games where you can take one of two routes depending on how you act, and they’re all interconnected where you get to meet and interact with the previous games’ characters in the sequel games. I went into this expecting very little but what I got blew me away with how funny, charming and cute the games were. They don’t take themselves too seriously, at one point an angsty male character monologues deeply about some shit, and another one just slides into frame and starts mocking him. It was so fucking funny, holy shit. Also, a central theme is literally racism against catgirls? Which is monumentally stupid, and probably the games’ main flaw, especially in the final game where it pairs up a catgirl with a catgirl racist, but that one still ends with a literal bisexual queen literally making a man her malewife because she fell in love with his cooking, so like ... It speaks for itself. My favorite game of the three is the second one, where you get to play a punchy fake catgirl and romance a pink-haired prince. And honestly, all the female protags in these games are lovely and a breath of fresh air, and the male characters are fun and not abusive assholes either. There’s full Japanese voice acting, and two out of three female protags are literal catgirls who pepper in “nya” and “mya” into their dialogue, and it’s just treated as a quirk of their catgirl race. I AM NOT KIDDING. Yet somehow it never comes off as cringe, because it doesn’t take it self too seriously. These games are just cozy. That’s the only way I can describe them. Cozy and hilarious. Play them yesterday. Dream Daddy (m/m): Man tumblr did this game dirty. This is just a cute, wholesome daddy dating simulator with gorgeous art. Coming out on Top (m/m): So you know Dream Daddy? What if it was EXTREMELY, MAJORLY NSFW? Though I realize how bad the comparison really is, the only thing these games have in common is that they’re gay dating sims and don’t have an anime art style and oh, yeah, they’re both really well-written. Or at least, extremely funny. COOT (heh) is DDADDS’ horny older cousin, and I first encountered the game on a lesbian letsplayer’s YouTube channel. Yes I watched a lesbian play a gay porn game and it was GOOD. I was there for the cringe and fun and got surprised by how genuinely funny and sometimes actually touching the game was. I can’t give it my universal endorsement because it’s not a game for everyone, as I said, it’s extremely NSFW and the menu theme literally includes the singers screaming “SEX SEX” at the top of their lungs. There’s more to this game than the porn, but there’s just so much porn. It can be censored in the settings but it’s unavoidable. However, I still think it’s worth a look just because of how funny it is and how charming the characters are. If you don’t want to play it yourself, at least watch Anima’s playthrough of it. It hasn’t aged super well in some spots but I still go back to it every now and then. Akash: Path of the Five (f/m): This game markets itself as a more “professionally produced” western dating sim, and that’s accurate in some superficial aspects. The game is pretty poorly written, but it’s absolutely gorgeous and has really good English voice acting by actual professional voice actors. The premise is quite self-indulgent, but I genuinely respect that about it. You play as the only female elemental in a village with only men, and all five of your classmates want a piece of you. It’s clear the writers have put some thought into the lore and worldbuilding of this world, but barely any of it comes through in the actual writing and plot, which is basically just a vehicle for you to get together with your boy of choice. The ROs aren’t very well-developed either, and the plot is the same in every route with only minor variations depending on which guy you pick, up to the point where the protag has the same voice lines in some parts regardless of which guy she’s talking about. It also has one extra half-route that’s so bad and pointless I genuinely wonder why they wasted resources on making it instead of spending a bit more on the writing/adding some variations to the main plot. So why am I recommending this game? Well, it’s pretty, and it sounds nice. This game is a himbo, gorgeous but dumb as rocks. Enjoy it for what it is. I know I did. Get it when it’s on sale, I think if I hadn’t gotten it at half-price I would’ve felt a bit more cranky about it. Also Rocco is bae. Mystic Destinies: Serendipity of Aeons (f/m): Yes that’s the full title, no I don’t know what it means either. You may have noticed how most of the games so far I’ve enjoyed because they don’t take themselves too seriously? Well, this one does. It takes itself SO FUCKING SERIOUSLY. Like, way too seriously. It’s a little embarrassing at points because baby, you’re an urban fantasy dating sim. Calm down. But the game has gorgeous art and 3 out of 5 routes are very good. The last route, the one with your teacher, is both the most problematic yet somehow the one that breaks down the very concept of a dating sim within its own narrative (yes, this shit gets fucking META) and it got so wild at the end that 1) I still listen to the soundtrack for that route and 2) I still remember it to this day despite finishing it ages ago. My favorite route is Shou, he’s a sweetheart, but the mindfuck route is so buckwild that I think the game is worth playing just for that. There’s also a route that’s like a neo-noir mystery? I Do Not Know. This game is many, many things and it does them so sincerely and tries so hard, you can’t help but respect it. It doesn’t always stick the landing but man, just let this thing take your hand and wax poetic at you for a bit. Also get this one at a sale because it’s very expensive to get the full version. I got it for 9 bucks on itch.io and I felt that was a fair enough price, I’d say I wouldn’t have minded paying more for it because there’s a lot of content to enjoy and/or be baffled by. Arcade Spirits: This one’s a bit more weird from what I recall, and I honestly couldn’t tell you much about it, but I remember having a very good time with it and recommending it to a friend when she was going through some tough times and she said it made her feel better. I remember it making me feel better, as well. This is a VN about an arcade and the ROs are wonderfully diverse, with very real human conflicts that get explored in each of their routes. It can get quite existential and heavy at times, but in the end it’s a kindhearted game that I think everyone can enjoy. The main character was also, how you say, mood. It’s a game about getting possessed by a video game and then learning self-love. Ebon Light (f/m): This one’s free/name your own price on itch.io so go play it. It’s a weird plot where you play as a girl who ate an elven relic? And then the elves kidnap you because you’re the relic now. All the ROs are extremely pasty (like, literally white, as in literally the color white) dark-haired elves, except for one, who’s an extremely pasty blond elf, so ... diversity? I honestly don’t know what this game is aside from unique. I used to be a bit put off by the art style but now I think it contributes to the general atmosphere. It’s a weird game that technically doesn’t do anything groundbreaking but still left an impression of “huh. weird” in my mind and I think more people should play it. The ROs are all pretty generic dating sim archetypes but done well, with bonus points to Duliae who’s just a massive creep and I love him, and also Vadeyn who’s the only bitch in this house I respect. The worldbuilding is honestly a bit buckwild and I can’t give enough credit for how unique the elves’ culture is in this game. Definitely give it a go. Hakuoki: Kyoto Winds / Hakuoki: Edo Blossoms (f/m): These two are newer releases of an older Japanese visual novel. I wouldn’t call it a dating sim, it’s ... it’s more of a super depressing historical fantasy epic with some minor romance aspects awkwardly wedged in. It’s seriously some of the heaviest and most grimdark shit I’ve ever played in a VN/otome. I don’t understand why it’s a dating sim, it doesn’t read like one, it’s just historical fantasy based on real world events with characters based on real people, and they kill and they die and they grieve and they suffer. The games are literally about the downfall of the Shinsengumi, there’s no way of avoiding everything going to shit and you get to watch and be in the middle of it all as they struggle to stay alive and relevant in a world that doesn’t need them anymore. And there’s the protag in the middle of it all, being useless and submissive and bland just the way the usual otome protag is. I don’t think these games are necessarily fun, and the romance is certainly a lot more downplayed and deeply problematic just based on the age differences alone with some of the men, but the sheer amount of horror and sadness in these games make them stand out above its peers. It’s like watching a war movie. Since most of the characters are based on real people, they feel like real people instead of the usual otome archetypes, and they are so, SO flawed, it’s interesting to just watch them deal with the shit the world throws at them. It’s an Experience, and if you’re up for it, I think it’s worth the time. Cinderella Phenomenon (f/m): This game is free on Steam so go get it. You play as a really, genuinely shitty princess who gets cursed to be poor and forgotten and she has to help one of the ROs break his fairy tale curse so that she can learn about being a good person herself and return to her normal life. This game doesn’t look like much, but it has a genuinely well-written main character who’s actually at the center of each of the stories and in the overarching plot instead of just being around to make eyes at the real protagonists, aka the love interests. Aside from the main character, my favorite part of this game’s writing is how each route slowly but very smoothly expands upon the overarching intrigue. If you play them in a certain order, you get more and more info revealed to you that you didn’t see in other routes, gaps are filled in as you find out more about what actually happened and why, but every route also stands on its own as a full experience and none is more canon than the rest. There’s also some really heavy emotional parental abuse explored, which I found quite potent at times. The romances themselves were alright, I think Karma and Waltz were my faves.
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Welllp This Is...Holiday Fic, Version 3.0
Hello, internet! It is December, and that means it is also time to regain our festive feelings through holiday-type fic. Of which I have written just...an absurd amount of. So, before we start slamming on some more keys with inevitable cliches and kissing (and the list of prompts I’m going to post later and maybe start writing tomorrow) here is a wholly self-indulgent, self-promotional list of the copious number of holiday stories I’ve written. Under the cut, because honestly it’s ridiculous.
Multi Chapters
To Make the Season Bright Rating: M Words: 49,683 Chapters: 5
It's just one weekend. At Christmas. In New York. With everyone there. With Killian there. It's fine. Emma doesn't mind – he's always there and she wants him to be there and it'll be good. Great, even. Festive. She's looking forward to it. She just hopes she doesn't do something stupid. Like shout feelings in his face. That probably wouldn't be very festive.
The Gift Receipt Rating: M Words: 46,244 Chapters: 5
It genuinely makes sense in her head. After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works. Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously. That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.
Older Now, But Not Done Hoping Rating: T Words: 25,577 Chapters: 3
Killian Jones has lost his festive spirit. It's been forcibly removed by corporate America and private developers and how much alcohol the customers at his bar drink every night. Although, he supposes, that means he's making a profit, but that also feels a little Scrooge-esque and he doesn't have time for visits from ghosts. Because he's suddenly got a whole schedule in front of him, written out and planned by his roommate. To reclaim their mutual and collective festivity. Together. Oh, and he's in love with her. At Christmas. And all the time, really. This is going to be great.
It’s the Thought That Counts Rating: M Words: 27, 178 Chapters: 3
It was, in theory, a good idea. It was, in theory, an absolutely fantastic idea. Because there was still, sometimes, a crisis or two in Storybrooke and nothing would be more chaotic than trying to find a Christmas present on Main Street, while also trying to keep said Christmas present a secret. Ordering gifts on the internet makes sense. It's just a few clicks and online sales and the presents will be there in plenty of time for Christmas to be perfect. Emma and Killian are positive. Except then the presents don't show up and it's Christmas Eve and plan B isn't so much a plan as it is just a bit of pre-holiday desperation and the entire town knows what they're up to.
One Shots
The Best Laid Plains Rating: T Words: 4,040
Emma knows what she wants. And she remembers what the qualifications are. She just needs some help with them. Or: She and Killian once decided they'd only get married if one of them came out with an outlandish proposal.
Following the Recipe Rating: T Words: 3,802
Emma can't bake cookies. That doesn't stop her from engaging in cookie-baking competitions. At Christmas. And Killian is more than happy to help.
Grounded Rating: T Words: 6,064
Being stuck at the airport is the worst at normal times. At Christmas, it's at least ten-thousand times worse. Unless you manage to make friends with the vaguely attractive, frustratingly charming guy sitting next to you in the terminal.
Carol of the [Wedding] Bells Rating: T Words: 7,926
Going to Vegas with your friends for Christmas? Totally normal. Getting married to one of your friends while in Vegas at Christmas? Might take a bit more explaining. Especially when neither one of you can remember it.
More Than You Could Ever Know Rating: T Words: 5,040
It’s the perfect plan. So, she told the new guy at work that she was already married and couldn’t date him. Fine, no big deal. Emma has someone more than wiling to pretend to be her husband and a friend more than willing to do her pre-party hair. She’s certain everything will work out. The very last thing she expects is for Killian to be jealous. Because she might have picked the wrong Jones brother to play doting husband.
Once Again As in Olden Days Rating: T Words: 6,462
She’s absolutely freezing cold. It’s a dumb metaphor, one that only serves to make Emma even more pissed off than she already is. Because two hours ago it was summer. But a few more hours before that, she was also locked in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. And now she’s outside. With her kid. And a pirate that isn’t hers, explicitly, but keeps staring at her like he wouldn’t mind if he was. So maybe it’s not the worst. Maybe she’ll be able to get warm eventually.
Want Something That Will Last Forever Rating: T Words: 5,093
The weight in his jacket pocket is getting heavier. Burning a hole. A metaphorical one. Because a literal one would probably freak David out and David is already worried enough and Killian is a very good friend. Who is willing to help David plan his proposal to Mary Margaret. Even if it messes everything else up in the process.
A Fair, Even-Handed, Noble Adjustment of Things Rating: T Words: 9,267
Emma just wants to do something good. Give back. Maybe get a few bonus points. Metaphorically speaking. Not the last one. That defeats the purpose of all of this. But she can’t really think straight because he keeps humming and using nicknames and stealing all the flour. And she’d give up all the bonus points she’s, maybe, accumulated by, possibly, doing good if she could just remember what his name is. This is not going the way she planned. At all.
Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand Rating: T Words: 7,052
She was cold. She was tired. She did not want to be ice skating. She wasn’t really ice skating. She was just…kind of standing there – while getting yelled at by security guards and stared at by her boyfriend and they were being pushed off the ice. Not literally. And Emma knew she was being a Grinch or, maybe, just Max the Dog because she wasn’t in control enough to be a Grinch, but Killian wanted to go ice skating and well…fake it ‘til you make it festivity, right?
Kiss Her Once [For Me] Rating: T Words: 9,500
To say that the last year has been hectic would be the greatest understatement in the history of the modern world. Or, like, libel. In print, it’s libel. Because the last year has been filled with political promises and campaigns and far more press conferences than Emma realized were possible. And now, with Washington D.C. ahead of them, the only thing Emma really wants is to figure out how many boxes she’ll need to move all her stuff. That is, of course, until Killian finds her sitting in the middle of Regina’s hallway, a distinct lack of alcohol in her system, and the guarantee that he’s got a plan. For fun. Of the festive variety. It includes mistletoe.
Prompt: Santa!Con Rating: T Words: 2,444
Killian is very drunk. There are people dressed like Santa everywhere. And Emma isn't sure she heard the question correctly. She might be a little drunk too, honestly.
Prompt: Killian Wakes Up Without Any Blankets Rating: T Words: 2,444
He's freezing. Presumably because his wife — who he loves very much — has once again stolen all the blankets.
Tripping Over the Blue Line
A Few Days Off for Christmas Rating: T Words: 11,903
Matt's first Christmas at the brownstone means several things. Chinese food. Bad bread pudding. And unexpected guests.
A Chance of Snow Showers Rating: T Words: 3,372
Everything's a competition on this team. So no one is all that surprised when Killian agrees to race during family skate. Even with a baby strapped to his chest.
Dropping Gloves...In the Name of Festive Fashion Rating: T Words: 3,038
It’s probably one of the more ridiculous things any of them have ever done. It’s also one of the better ideas any of them has ever had – it’s festive and in the spirit and the fans will love it. And maybe it’s kind of fun because it ends with another win and some positive press before the break and Phillip’s jacket is really just…a work of fashion art.
All Knotted Up Rating: T Words: 2,188
He’s never actually done anything like this – brought a girl home for Christmas. No, not just a girl – Emma. Emma was coming to the brownstone for Christmas and the entire Vankald family would be there with traditions and bread pudding and there had to be gifts.
He needed to buy a gift. Or, at least, get a gift. And the list of people who wouldn’t laugh right in his face at the idea of Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, freaking out about that was growing more and more slim by the minute.
We’ll Take a Cup [Defense] Of Kindness Rating: M Words: 19,204 Chapters: 2
It's one night. New Year's Eve. And a whole list of rules. Because Regina might have actually lost her mind. Or maybe that's just Emma. Because they've played a million games in two days, or it's at least felt that way, and planning an outdoor practice a few weeks before the Olympics seemed like a good idea at one point. Now it just seems insane. So she's going to wear this dress and kiss her boyfriend. A lot. He's good. Better than good. Great. The greatest. It's New Year's Day and, yeah, sure it's freezing, but Killian hasn't actually tried to push Scarlet on the Subway tracks yet so that seems like a step in the right direction. So he's a little distracted a few weeks before the Olympics, but that's fine. It's good. Or it'll be good. Eventually. Soon. In the meantime he's probably just going to kiss his girlfriend. A lot.
First Line Center Rating: T Words: 9,508 Chapters: 2
She hadn’t read the invitation. It hadn’t changed in years, after all - a set of rules and expectations for a New Year’s party that they were all going to break anyway because the most traditional thing about this team was flouting tradition. So, Emma had mostly ignored it. Until. A shout and Killian refusing to wear a tie and something crashing in her kitchen, one kid worried about another and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. There was a joke about fresh ice to be made, she was sure.
#cs ff#captain swan#captain swan ff#cs fic#captain swan fic#there are a lot of words here#and somehow the full week of writing i had got away from me very quickly#so we're going back to the same prompt list as last year to try and regain some sense of productivity#anyway that's coming later#for now here's all the holiday-type kissing i've written already#more blue line than i remembered honestly
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Elegy (2/6)
Part 1
A trip to Dante’s Inferno Room. Drinking and rage and wanting to comfort. @clairjohnson ‘s Miss Argentina is a peach.
@turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beejiesbitch @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @angelicspaceprince
"Lead the way, muñeca."
Maria did her best to shoot him a look of disinterest, save for the arch of a manicured brow. Shaking her head and turning away to hide the ghost of a smirk, she headed towards the office exit. It had surprised her, more like mortified her, when she found out that he spoke Spanish. Spoke a lot of languages, apparently. A walking polyglot. Something that he’d neglected to mention when they’d first met. So many snide remarks and salacious comments that she thought were for her pleasure only, turned out to be shared. The day he’d replied in her native language, fluent and precise even with the grate of his voice, made her want to die all over again.
“Oh I’ll lead – but I’m sure you could get to Dante’s in your sleep, viejo verde.”
The beauty queen waited for him when she exited, stepping in tandem with his stride as they made their way to the netherworld’s brothel. Fortunately, they had an excellent bar. Maria gave his suit an appreciative once over, happy to see him not drenched in blood, then moved her gaze forward.
“So what happened?” Her voice was even, but there was amused interest behind it. “How did ‘The Ghost with the Most’ get shishkabobed by a moody teenager? Sounds like it should have been a cake walk.”
Miss Argentina was used to poking fun at the poltergeist, and though his anger had radiated off him in waves earlier, he’d seemed to be cooling down now – what was the harm in asking?
Her questions and the amusement behind them made him stutter step. There'd always been teasing between them – light, heavy, pointed, obnoxious (in his case) – but that stung and any chance of forcing the recent past behind him was shot.
"It was a fucking set up. I am not talking about it," he spit, his voice threatening to crack again.
If that was happening because of the hole in his chest he was going to have to get it patched quick. In the upperworld, he'd have punctuated his words with something: fire under each sole as each foot hit the ground in a stomp, popping light bulbs (impressive but baby-ghost stuff), or simply fading into the shadows leaving only the shine of silver eyes and unnaturally luminous, unnaturally sharp teeth as a warning to the person who dared stepped over a line. Here, he had a few tricks but nothing imposing like that.
He had to settle for the sharply bitten off words and hands made into tight fists shoved into his pockets. It wasn't too late. He could turn on his heel and walk right back to the Lost Souls' Room.
At his sharp, heated response Maria pulled back from him slightly, taking an unconscious half step to the side while she continued to walk. Sure, she’d expected him to still be a little upset – but whatever had happened cut him deep. Both physically and metaphorically. She furrowed her brow at him and let out a scoff, tucking her arms tight across her chest.
“Excuse me for asking. You sound like a petulant child, you know?” she chided. “Sulking about like this. It’s not a good look on you, Betelgeuse.”
Dante’s came into view as they rounded a corner and she’d never been so happy to see it in all her afterlife. She liked this man, usually, but something was off about him. He was furious, but there was a bleakness to him she wasn’t used to – she’d heard it back in the office, and she felt it now. Maybe the girls in the Inferno room would pull him out of this. The thought both comforted her and left a tightness in her chest she didn’t care for.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened, I’m not your therapist.” She stayed in step with him as they approached the building. “But I ask, as your bank and cohort for the evening, have a drink. You’re really bringing the mood down.” Maria gave him a cheeky, well humored smile.
He dropped his chin and glared at her from under his brows. "You're not my mother," was on the tip of his tongue, but even the word mother made him want to spit venom, and despite the teasing, Maria didn't deserve to take the brunt of it.
"Oh, I'll have a drink," he ground out instead, "the mood'll have to take care of itself."
They walked through the swirling mists that always filled the alleyways of the Netherworld and the gaudy neon lights from Dante's were visible before the building itself. There were a few shapely demonesses on the balcony of the cathouse who called out when the two of them walked towards it.
A chorus of: "Hey BJ!" "Welcome back, honey!" "The girls have been waiting!" greeted them. Beetlejuice ignored them, took the lead, and pushed open the door.
Two things hit him like a solid wall: the advertised air conditioning like an arctic blast and a second blast of music loud enough to be a force of nature itself. Sitting on a stool just inside the door was the bouncer.
"Привет, Ivan," he greeted as the two of them were sized up by the Russian.
"Никаких проблем сегодня, Beetlejuice." It was an order, not a question.
"Wouldn't think of it." Ignoring the stages and that a few of the girls glanced over – especially ignoring the high-pitched squeal Bambi gave that could be heard over the pounding music – he turned to Maria. "Find a table. I'm going to go get that drink."
Unlike Betelgeuse she didn’t ignore the women on the balcony. Instead, Maria tipped her head up, peering with a bemused smile at the flirtatious greeting. As far as she knew Beej had never flush with cash – the man must have a ridiculous tab.
A mix of chilled smoke and thudding music washed over her when she entered, making it hard to hear the Russian the two men in front of her were exchanging.
Wouldn’t think of it! Maria heard when she got closer. Betelgeuse had turned to her, his expression still lingering with fake reassurance, and told her he was going to go get That drink.
“Those drinks,” she corrected, “I’ll have a Manhattan – don’t let them forget the cherry.”
The beauty queen pointed a manicured finger at him to emphasize her point before turning to look for a table. There were a few spots closer to the stage, and to the girls, but Maria fixed herself in a booth carved into a wall further back. The music was damped instantly as she sat back in the red domed cushions and she sighed with relief. A single candle on the table lit at her presence.
He nodded his understanding of the order and slipped away through the patrons to the bar, fully aware that not only were some of the dancer's eyes on him, but also the two bouncers and probably the club's Madame, from up in her office above the floor.
Leaning over the bar, he caught Niphera's attention, despite them pointedly trying to ignore him.
"Tab's covered tonight!" he insisted, and finally, finally got Maria her Manhattan and himself a bottle of Dante's self-brewed hooch – it wasn't supposed to be doled out by the bottle but he promised the moon. With his finger in a highball glass to hold it securely against the bottle he carried, he slipped back through the crowd to the far wall, where he found Maria seated comfortably in a booth.
She looked good on the velvet seat, with the candlelight on her.
"Your drink," he said, setting it carefully onto the table in front of her. "Two cherries, complete with stems."
He left off any words about tying those stems into knots with his tongue. With her, that ship had sailed a long time ago.
She had started to wonder if he’d gotten lost, or grabbed his drink and hurried off somewhere else. Maria wouldn’t put it past him. But when he came slipping through the crowd, Manhattan in hand, she was pleasantly surprised.
“Thank you,” she said, and took one of the two cherries out of her glass. Sweets had always been a favorite of hers (though she could rarely indulge when alive) and Maria wasted no time biting off the bottom of one of the cherries and placing the stem on a napkin.
“An entire bottle?” She questioned while taking a sip of her drink. “I will have to cut you off at some point, Mr. Betelgeuse.” The beauty queen gave him a coy smile and then turned her attention to the stage. Two of the girls had started their dances, and her eyes followed the fluid motions of their hips.
Averting her gaze Maria took another large sip of her drink - realizing that she may need to get another one soon.
“You seem to have a lot of friends here.” The words were cool and she didn’t look up as she said them.
Pouring himself two fingers' worth, pausing, then dumping two more in, it would've been nice to have ice. The air conditioning was something special, but even a booming place like Dante's couldn't score ice. That was an upperworld thing, and one he wished he'd had the chance to enjoy while he was there. But that teenage bitch –
Before he went down that road much further, he threw back and swallowed the drink in two big gulps before slamming the glass back down. Luckily her glass was in her hand at the moment so it didn't spill, or he'd be getting her a new drink before she finished the first. That goddamn hole in his chest burned, and to his dismay it felt like some of the alcohol was seeping out onto his shirt. Ignoring it, he poured himself another glass.
Maria's lips were as red as the cherry she had so delicately eaten. He snorted at her mild threat to cut him off.
"The girls here are friends to anyone with cash," he bit out as he raised his glass again and took another mouthful. He realized that sounded cruel, and luckily Bambi and Punkin were on the main stage at the moment, having fun, and missed the comment. Softening his reply to amend it, he said, "This is someplace I can come and they treat me well. Like I matter. Unlike pretty much anywhere else, it seems."
That came out much more bitter and personal than he'd intended. Fuck this booze; Maria had nothing to worry about, he was going to have to cut himself off!
His softer, mildly guilty expression surprised her after the sharp comment. Maria was further surprised, and frankly a little offended, by his follow up. How many times had he screwed up royally and Juno had let him off with a slap on the wrist? He’d been her assistant forever – she may have been firm with him, but he required it. And what about the two of them? They hadn’t been friends or anything, but she enjoyed having him around, appreciated their banter, and had been close to . . . other things.
Maria finished her drink and took in a long breath. “You like to burn down bridges.” She pulled the cherry out of the empty cup. “And your social skills have a tendency to resemble arson.”
There was a short silence before the beauty queen turned her brown eyes up to him. “You really feel like you didn’t matter for the decades we worked together under Juno? Or are you just feeling sorry for yourself tonight?”
Her sharp assessment made him scowl. It was accurate, of course, but did it need to be said out loud?
He polished off another glass but this time didn’t refill the highball immediately. Finding his still lit cigarette in the ether he stuck it back between his lips as he caught the attention of one of the waitresses walking the floor. Wordlessly he indicated Maria’s empty drink, confident Niphira would remember the cocktail.
“I said pretty much anywhere else,” he repeated, as a reminder. “The fucking breathers are the reason I’m back here again. And you know working under Juno didn’t make me special or mean anything. I was just another cog in the endless wheels of this goddamn place. So yeah. I don’t matter and I am feeling sorry for myself. Honestly, you’re the only – ”
It was on the tip of his tongue to finish the sentence with the truth – you’re the only good thing here, you’re the only one who ever takes the time to ask, you’re the only one who ever seemed to care, you’re the one who got away – but he wasn’t sure exactly which one he’d confess, so it was better to just cut it off before he said something she would believe was the booze talking and have a story to laugh about with the rest of the drones back at the office.
Instead he found another cigarette, complete with an elegant gold cigarette holder from the same pocket dimension, and held it out as a peace offering.
Betelgeuse signaling the waitress to refill her drink was a blessing. She had been putting up a fight with herself to get a second, knowing she should be staying sharp, but he’d thankfully made the decision for her.
When he started to open up about how he’d died this time she listened intently, her eyes watching his exaggerated, already slightly impaired gestures. When he’d rattled off that he didn’t matter, that he bitterly was feeling sorry for himself, she opened her mouth to protest – only to clamp it shut when he continued.
Honestly, you’re the only –
There was a long beat of silence after he spoke. His eyes seemed to look past her while he thought about what to say next – what to say about her. But only more silence stayed between them. What had he intended to say? Maria considered asking him, her nerves already buzzing with all the implications, but she decided it best to keep quiet. What would be the point, anyway? It was probably going to be something crude or sexual, something entirely Betelgeuse, like 'you’re the only one worth ogling at.'
The negative thoughts were hushed when he reached towards her with a cigarette. It was clasped in an ornate golden holder, the light of the candle catching the engravings. Maria took it from him delicately like she might break it.
“Thank you,” she said softly, then lit the end and took a long drag. “It’s very pretty.”
The waitress returned with her drink and placed it down on a coaster. Instead of leaving, however, the demon made herself at home on Betelgeuse’s knee. The scantily dressed woman leaned back against his arm and arched like a cat, giving him a wink while she giggled.
“You going to need anything else tonight, Beej? You never just come around for drinks.”
Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the cigarette holder from him. The engraved scarabs seemed to skitter along its length, but that was a trick of the candlelight, not anything of his doing. Maria's quiet admiration of it gave him a little thrill of pride, that he could create things of beauty and not just be gross, but he kept his mouth pinched shut. The waitress tottered over--Beetlejuice knew Madame didn't require the waitresses to wear stiletto heels, so her footwear was her own poor choice – and set the new cocktail in front of Maria, then flounced her barely-there skirt and took a seat on his knee. That should teach him from manspreading –
Her simpering giggle might have worked if he wasn't in such a foul mood. As it were, he scowled at her overly-intimate insinuation and jerked his leg out from under her, unseating her without caring about her surprised gasp.
"If I need something else I'll fucking ask for it," he spat, then fixed her with a hard stare. "If you wanna be a dancer and earn tricks, then do it. You'd better get more practice on those heels, though."
Offended, the waitress half looked like she wanted to smack him in the face with her tray, and half wanted to cry. She turned on her heel instead and made a very obvious effort to not wobble as she walked away. He knew he'd cost him their waitress for the rest of the night, and there was a good possibility Ivan or Lyra were going to pay a visit to this booth very soon to suggest politely – in front of Maria – that if he couldn't be civil to the staff, he should leave.
Pouring himself another drink, he dared glance up at her to see if this display of shitty behavior was going to cost him her company tonight.
Maria took a closer look at the intricate designs – were they beetles? Scarabs. Like the one on his ring. She had assumed he’d snagged this holder from some grave, but now that she saw the details . . . had he made this?
Her thoughts were interrupted when the waitress placed a drink in front of her. The polite smile she wore dimmed noticeably when the women sat on Betelgeuse’s lap. If there had still been blood running through her veins a splash of rose would be blooming on her cheeks. She scolded herself at the involuntary envy that bubbled in her chest. Betelgeuse was a fool – an absolute mess of a man who was inappropriate at the best of times and destructive at the worst. Regardless, it’s not like she’d expected anything else, right? He was a regular, as he’d so kindly pointed out, there were probably plenty of girls here he’d slept with – girls that apparently liked to see him come around.
The venom in his voice when he jerked his leg away shocked her. She’d never seen him talk to a woman that way – especially one that was interested. He was usually all smiles and snake oil charm if a lady like that came waltzing over. With a parting, harsh comment about her ability in heels, Betelgeuse turned from the waitress and poured himself another drink. When he looked up Maria’s expression was one of surprise, the previous look of jealousy almost completely gone.
“You didn’t have to speak to her like that. You should apologize,” the beauty queen rebuked, keeping her disapproving gaze on him while she took a sip of her new drink. There was a moment of silence before she continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn away an invitation like that. You said some breathers screwed you over, but is that all?”
God, she didn’t want to push too hard. But whatever had happened was weighing on him more than usual.
The mouthful of booze he'd gulped burned like hellfire as he forced it down.
"Where's my apology?!" he snarled, slamming his glass back down. This time he didn't care if shaking the table made her drink spill. "I'm straightforward. People want something from me, I deserve compensation. I'm not unreasonable! Those fucking breathers – that goddamn snot-nosed teenager – "
The rage that had been tamped down for a bit just being with her roared to life again. He ground his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. When he spoke again, it was to his hands on the table.
"She fucking – I gave her what she wanted. I upheld my end of it! Dad gone? Done. Adults out of her house? Done. Generalized mayhem? Done. She was a kid, so it was silly stuff – but it was fun. Then, then she wanted her goddamn mom back, and I can't do that! The stupid kid left me. Did she think there were no fucking consequences to that?"
He paused for an unnecessary breath and kept his head down to hide the tears that burned worse than the alcohol.
"Told her the only way to fix it all was to marry me. The get outta jail free card," he snorted with a strangled laugh like it was a good joke. "She agreed, stupid kid, then she and her friends ganged up on me and she fucking ran a pole through my chest, sending me right back here to this godforsaken wasteland!"
His voice had risen to another spitting roar by the end. Did he leave parts of the story out? Of course he did. Everyone creates their own narrative; he was positive if he asked any other person here – Maria included – their story would not be their full truths.
His throat dry, he unclenched his hands – would Juno's tab cover the gouges he just left in the table? – and grabbed his bottle again. Forgoing his glass, he drank directly from it. The alcohol compounded on itself, leaving a more potent burn in his gut this time. He locked eyes on Maria as he set it down again, not caring if she saw the extra wet in his eyes.
All she could do was look on in stunned silence while he snarled out his grievances. He was talking so fast – words coming out like a machine gun. When she caught sight of the glossiness in his eyes she had a sudden urge to reach across the table and grasp his clenched hand. But she didn’t. That would be crossing a line she wanted to keep firmly in place.
When he had seemed to finish, punctuating his last sentence with a large swig of alcohol straight from the jug, she spoke. Her voice was composed and soft, unintentionally trying to soothe the raw pain on his face.
“It sounds like you had a good time up there causing trouble with that kid.” She started, trying to begin on a positive note. “But what do you mean left you? And what did you expect her and her friends to do - – let a grown, dead man marry her??”
She stopped then, averting her eyes and taking a quick sip of her drink. Her intention hadn’t been to be aggressive – but the whole thing sounded ridiculous. Taking a long breath she continued.
“You said it yourself, Beej.” His nickname slipped out before she could catch it, and she stumbled for just a second before continuing, “She’s just a kid. A kid who wanted to see their mom. I’d love to see my mom – I miss her every day. Why would some teenager ditching you to find their . . .”
Something occurred to her then that hadn’t before, and she furrowed her brows at him curiously. “Did you become friends, or think that you were friends, with this girl and the others?”
Miss Argentina had never seen him with any friends. Most people found him mildly irritating or flat out hated him – he wasn’t exactly popular, and it wasn’t not his fault. Regardless, her chest tightened at the realization. Had Betelgeuse thought he’d found some companionship? Only to have it thrown back in his face? She couldn’t help the look of pity in her eyes when her gaze met his again.
He didn’t want her reasonable assessment. He didn’t want her accusations. He definitely didn’t want her pity. He thought he’d found someone in the upper world who understood him, who knew the pain of being invisible. A fucking suicidal teenager, who then used what he wanted most in the world – life, and even more than that, acceptance – against him like a professional barracuda duping the world’s easiest, densest mark.
The beauty queen across the table, who’d been decent enough to not just go and leave him to his misery when he threw his tantrum, latched onto that fact, and deep in his increasingly muddled mind, he knew that was significant.
“I thought we were friends,” he admitted in a choked whisper.
Embarrassingly, like before, his voice cracked. He attempted to cover it with another overly-large swallow from the bottle. Although only half full at this point, it felt heavy in his hand. The alcohol was affecting him just like he’d wanted it to: numbed.
The pull to reach for his hand again, to offer some sort of comforting gesture, was strong. In an effort to physically stop herself, Maria folded her hands in her lap and clasped her fingers together tightly. There were so many things she could say to him. So many instances she could point out where he was his own worst enemy in the “making friends department” – but she suspected he knew this already. Which was probably why this hurt him so much.
“Betelgeuse . . .”
What did she even want to say to him? That she was sorry? That she understood what it was like to hate yourself?? It’s how she ended up his coworker in the first place. All her perfection, all her work, her entire life had felt pointless when she’d lost Miss Universe.
“. . . you should slow down. Keep it up and I’m going to have to drag your drunk ass home.”
She gave him a sweet smile then, one that couldn’t hide the sympathy still etched on her face. In an act of solidarity Maria took a large swig if her own drink, covering her mouth politely as she coughed it down.
tbc . . .
#writing#role-play#BeetleTina#Beetlejuice#Miss Argentina#Beetlejuice x Miss Argentina#Movie Beetlejuice#Musical Beetlejuice#fanfiction#rp
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jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)
wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).
Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?
If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)
Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke
I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.
Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-
“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.
“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”
(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)
She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”
//
5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke
Inspired by paper - LANY
This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.
“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”
His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”
He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.
//
Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke
I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.
It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!
“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”
“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”
His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”
Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.
Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.
//
Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie
No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.
“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”
His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”
Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”
“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”
//
Dear Julie, Love Mom series
I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.
Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)
Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.
The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.
Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.
“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”
Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.
They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.
Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.
“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.
Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”
He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.
“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”
“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”
“That’s different.”
“Yeah? Different how?”
This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.
Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!
#gotta tag this so that it doesnt ever show up in any tags on tumblr.#i like that what got me to post about my writing was a fanworks appreciation week. but i will say that a couple weeks ago when i was feeling#extra good about my writing. i made a promise to myself to post smthg for the 6 mth mark of jatp and that kinda got backtracked because of#my requirements to be an adult and my general insecurities about putting out content that is mine for the works to judge sjsjsj#so this is me making it up to myself by sharing some things.#thank you rosie for indulging me in my ramblings. you’ve really given me confidence in my work even tho you’ve never read anything of mine.#just know I APPRECIATE YOU A LOT!!!!#i hope you dont mind that i tagged you!!!#anyways this is gonna get thrown into my queue for wednesday and whenever it posts is whenever it will post.#i also typed this on my phone (i DO NOT RECOMMEND IT) so sorry if the formatting is janky. i didnt wanna give myself time to second guess#myself and end up not posting it. sjjs#jatp fanworks appreciation week#sometimes i write#personal#<- need to come up with tags for myself welp#sunset queue
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The Peepshow (chapter three)
Summary: Two months after his redemption journey, Sasuke is back to Konoha and Sakura couldn’t be more happy about them spending a lot of time together. However, things take a hard turn when Sakura is assigned a special mission and she has to hide it from the rest of Team 7. Everything comes spiraling down when Sasuke finds out exactly what she has to do.
Tags: hard rated m, blank period, kinda AU-ish
You can also read it on ffnet and Ao3.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Author's notes: The grand finale of my three way saga ends here with a bang! Beware this chapter is hard M, lots of naughty things happening here ;) This monster is almost 10k on its own XD BTW this is the only chapter my friend strawberrycreampiefluff has not read, even though this is a collab between us and the story was her inspo, so this is a surprise for her also. I hope everybody enjoys this fic, comment your thoughts. Ah, I didn't know which way to end it because this is quite self indulgent and the main theme of the fic was teasing so the ending is similar. One day, maybe, I will write a continuation. Thank you everyone for your love and support!
“Act three: Jealousy will drive you mad”
With two powerful stomps and a determined expression on her face, Sakura reaches for the doorknob and pulls.
Sasuke does indeed greet her in the doorway. It is obvious from the casual attire he has put on that he was also about to go to bed; his toned physique is adorned with gray sweatpants and a light blue shirt.
The pink haired woman has no clue what riles her up the most. Is the way those simple clothes cling onto him like second skin emphasizing his fit body or is it the way he is staring her with those bewitching mismatched eyes of his? She cannot wait to find out.
"Sakura," he says in the usual lethargic timbre he uses to pronounce her name.
She blinks her eyes at him fast in response to make sure she is seeing right.
"What are you doing here, Sasuke-kun?", Sakura asks, "It's late."
She casually points out it is time for sleep and not time for late night conversations in her room the two of them alone, together. It does the trick because Sasuke seems to realize a few things about their current situation. His eyes lose focus and start their slow descend, carefully scrutinizing what she is wearing.
His gaze stops his inspection the moment it reaches her chest, zeroing on her breathing pattern and the way some parts of her body stand out thanks to the chilly weather. Sasuke's impassive face instantly changes, his cheeks and ears coloring in a nice red hue.
Then, without much thought, his observation continues and he bites his lip at the display of her bare legs so up close.
For the life of her, Sakura cannot fathom that Sasuke Uchiha is blatantly checking her out.
Feeling self conscious, she hugs herself and steps sideways to allow the man to come into the room. Her blush matches his in response.
Sasuke finally – finally moves from his position and steps into her territory.
Putting a few loose pink strands behind her ear, Sakura closes the door quietly and props her body on it, hands coming to rest between her backside and the wood.
She lets the silence hang on for a few minutes allowing Sasuke to take his time to make up his mind.
"I came here to apologize," he speaks after a while, "I am sorry."
Sasuke peers at her from his spot in the middle of room, shuffling his feet unconsciously.
He looks down, "I shouldn't have interfered with your mission," and spins around to face her bed instead. "It was brash and uncharacteristic of me."
His apology sounds genuine enough, but that still does not excuse the fact he acted out of the ordinary for no reason.
Sakura has had it with this man. Even though she feels beyond furious with him, the girl prefers not to argue with him.
"Apology accepted." She announces curtly. "Still doesn't explain the reason you decided to interfere, Sasuke."
The lack of honorific translates to failure in Sasuke's book of apologies. He tries to take another route. Although he came inside her room prepared and resolute to be honest with her, it seems his pride and ego are still in the way.
"Sakura, you know I am not good at this," He deflates in frustration, "I am not good -"
Sasuke pauses abruptly, not capable of continuing his next sentence. Why is it so hard for him to confess his feelings? How does Sakura do it? Why can he not be more like her when it comes to matters like these?
The lone Uchiha knows how he feels about her, his heart hammering in his chest is that much of a clue. Since he was a young boy- he has always known -what he felt towards her. There is a special connection, even the most logical part of his brain cannot grasp it enough to explain it. It should not make sense how strongly he feels about her without him even comprehending it when growing up.
It has been building up since the start, those emotions have been lying dormant for years, slowly but surely pestering inside his heart. His mind always conjuring up images of her lovely smiles and her healing words. Her confessions and trials towards him whispering hotly in his ears and driveling his mind mad into oblivion.
For such a foolish little game she was playing, her opinion is sure important and sufficient to have him questioning his moralities; her words festering inside his heart and poisoning his mind with good prospects in life like love and family. Who is he to deny her anything when at times he was ready to sacrifice everything he thrived for just to keep her safe? He can try but ignoring his feelings like he used to do in the past is no solution anymore.
Sasuke recalls everything about her until now and comes to one realization.
Sakura was, is and will always be precious to him.
"What?" The woman, plaguing his thoughts, asks defeated. She pushes herself off the wooden door and takes a big step forward.
Thinking what he can possibly do to make things better, he comes up with an idea.
Following along, Sasuke moves closer to her, leaning the right side of his body to a pillar next to him. He is right across her now.
"I am more of a man of action-", he starts trying to redeem himself with his compensatory qualities.
"Then do something -", she explodes, interrupting him mid sentence.
Sakura puts her foot down hard, literally stumping it to the ground. With her fists balled to her sides and a snarl on her face, she feels her patience running out.
The woman looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to do something – anything.
Sasuke's ears are roaring, his pulse skyrocketing. He is breathing hard now, his gaze penetrating as he surveys every aspect of Sakura's face. From her rosy cheeks, to her heated eyes and at last to her luscious, red lips.
She hears him before she sees him react. A hard punch to the pillar he has been leaning on signals he too has reached his limit.
With two fast strides, in speed only Sasuke is capable of, he pushes her against the door with his body. His right hand comes up and he tangles his fingers in her hair, cradling her upper half in urgency.
His stump meets her waist halfway in an attempt to hold her.
"I am losing my mind here, Sakura," He confesses unabashedly, looking at her straight in the eye.
The girl in question glances up at him, his sudden embrace unexpected, but welcome nevertheless. Both of her hands are at his torso, her clenched fists clasping his shirt tightly and crumpling it in the process. Thanks to the position of her grip, she feels his heart beating fast inside his chest – a sign that rings true to his earlier statement.
Searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort and finding none, she makes it easier for both of them and inches closer; her mouth a breath away from his lips.
Sasuke's eyes open and close languidly in response, her glittering irises and pampered freckles on her nose the last thing he sees before he leans in to kiss her.
Sakura spots stars behind her closed eyelids the moment their lips finally touch. It is nothing more than their mouths caressing each other in slow strokes, but the implications of that innocent kiss are more than enough for the two of them.
Feeling brave, the pink haired woman wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer to her. Her heart is about to jump off her chest, aware of his hard yet lean body flash against her. They do not have any prior experience to this, but with their instincts leading them on, they are matching each other just right.
Sasuke feels something inside his head clicking into place, like a puzzle being completed; the repressed emotions inside of him exploding into a thousand pieces. The way he loves and displays it might be crooked, but when he has the woman he adores in his arms, he knows, he can conquer any emotional disadvantage he may encounter.
It seems everything that happens next plays out like it is in slow motion.
Grabbing her by the hip, Sasuke begins to move. Sakura arches into him, their kiss turning deeper. With the tall man leading them on, the couple turns around, mirroring their previous position, but with Sakura on top this time.
"Lift your legs," Sasuke quietly orders with his back against the door. Sakura obliges wordlessly and jumps slightly. Putting pressure on his shoulders, Sakura breaks their kiss for a split second and wraps her thighs around his waist, locking them tightly.
Sasuke's lone arm comes and finds its position snugly under her backside, palm open on her butt cheeks. Without so much a strain, years of physical exertion being put into work, Sasuke lifts her off the ground easily.
Sakura, still preoccupied with Sasuke's soft lips, does not realize their compromising position. Gently coursing her hands through his hair, she caresses his scalp while kissing him tenderly.
With his limbs busy and his vision limited, Sasuke takes a few cautious steps forward. With the bed as final destination, he carefully maneuvers them through the room. A few centimeters away, the mattress lies warm and inviting.
Their kiss stops abruptly when Sasuke's foot comes in contact with outpost of the bed. Lips breaking apart and breaths mingling, they stare silently into one another.
Realizing where the course of their situation is taking them, both of them pause.
Sakura searches his eyes and sees the lust mirrored in them similar to her own. With a determined expression, she grabs the collar of his shirt and drags him down with her the moment she lets herself fall back into the mattress.
Trying to stop his body from crushing her, Sasuke's arm goes forward and he places his hand next to her head. He lets out a disgruntled sound and lets his face fall into the soft cushions of her breasts.
"Sakura," he mumbles incoherently. In response, the girl in question lets out a sigh of pleasure and relief.
She knows the implications and relishes in them. No dream or fantasy could counter that moment in her mind.
Sasuke hesitantly looks up, face heating up slowly. Then, feeling suddenly nervous, he glances sideways, a scowl forming.
Being on top of Sakura, her body body pliant underneath him and her lips bruised from their intense kissing had him feeling some type of way. But, god, her face is what made him look away. Nothing prepared him for this.
Sakura makes a sound in the back of her throat, her teeth biting hard her plump bottom lip. She bats her eyes at him, light pink eyelashes fanning against her rosy cheeks prettily. Sasuke pretends to ignore her, even though he keeps stealing glances at her.
Sakura cannot believe there would come a day where the great Sasuke Uchiha, the infamous avenger, would be shy with her.
Hot stares and naughty smirks are more his thing than awkward and fleeting looks.
Sasuke is nervous, no one taught him how to handle situations like these.
Love is a new, unknown part in his life, and he is quite unprepared.
Wordlessly, she lifts her hand and touches the right side of his face.
He looks gorgeous like this, all strong bone structure and pale white skin. His aristocratic nose scrunching up in distaste, because he dislikes the fact he has no control.
"What?" The Uchiha finally looks at her and asks. He purses his lips and drags his body forward a little bit.
Sasuke is snugly on top of her now, their chests pressed together closely.
Sakura starts caressing his cheek, staring lovingly into his eyes.
"I thought I couldn't love you more than I do," she takes a shuddering breath, her eyes watering slightly. "But, I do."
Sasuke takes the whispered confession in, his throat bobbing. He feels so emotional right now, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He clutches at her words, her proclamation consuming him like it did in the past.
The inner turmoil inside him makes his eyes burn. He struggles to find the words to express what he feels for her. The capacity to love and care endless, unlimited for her. A never ending waterfall of emotions washing his wrongdoings away.
The power coursing through his veins is nothing in comparison to the power she has over him. She could bend him all she wants, mold his being all the way to nothingness and put his pieces right back to their rightful place. No darkness inside of him is strong enough to overcome him as long as she loves him. Her light nourishing him and making him feel alive again.
So many thoughts plaguing his mind, but no words are enough to describe his admiration for her. He wants to convey though, he has to try. For her, going forward in life, he has to try.
"You make me feel alive," he shares with her, "I need you close to me,"
Sasuke utters in a mere whisper, but with each syllable his drive to confess grows tenfold. "I love you," he breaks, voice cracking in the end.
He closes his eyes to get his bearings for a second and hears Sakura's breath hitch.
Sakura feels her soul quivering in her chest; she went to heaven and back.
Before anymore tears could escape her eyes however, she quickly shuts them close. This is no reason for her to cry, for this is a happy moment. She sniffles and opens her jade orbs again. The sight that greets her makes her feel like her entire being is being consumed by hot molten lava. The man of her dreams is staring at her, his eyes intense – an endless inferno of feelings exposed for her to cherish.
Her throat bobs in anticipation at the prospect of him acting out what his eyes are conveying.
"Sakura," he says and nudges her chin with his nose.
Sasuke senses her shiver underneath him even though the temperature of the room is far from low. No matter, he is starting to sweat so he decides to undress. Knowing where this is leading them, he pushes himself up and straddles her, knees on either side of her body. Using his lone hand he grabs the outer part of his cotton shirt from behind and lifts it forward over his head.
Sakura gasps beneath him, eyeing him up and down in appreciation. That escalated way better than what she had in mind. Years of need, aching deep within her.
Her hands twitch and she tries to think clearly despite the situation.
"W-what are you doing Sasuke-kun?", she mumbles worriedly.
After finishing his task, the man in question looks down at her. The left side of mouth lifts in haughty grin before he can stop himself. Now, now what a nice view, he thinks.
Sakura's hair has created a beautiful pink halo around her head, matching her flaming, flushed cheeks. Those unique eyes of her sparkle in the dark, passion shining through clearly in them. Her lips part sensually in silent plea for him to claim her.
She wants this as much he does.
"Hot," he answers. The sensation of her, needy, under him or the room temperature are either correct interpretations.
He knows she likes what she sees. His athletic, lean body is no secret, but for him to display it so proudly to her strokes his ego in all the right places. No woman can appreciate him the way she does. Her pure devotion fascinates him, her hungry stares excite him. Only she has that effect on him. She may be the one to yearn for him since the beginning, but he is the one that has been suffering in silence for so long.
She has been loud, clear, but he has been repressed and tortured with his own fondness right along with her. He wants to toy with her a little more, tease her with some scalding remarks until she is dripping wet with fervor, but alas his patience is running out.
His arm stretches out and his hand reaches her throat, her eyes following along his every movement. His fingertips tenderly graze her pulse point, her skin alight with heat.
Goosebumps rise on her skin, his touch creating thousand fires along her neck. He is stalling, they both know it. But, she continues to stay pliant under him allowing him to continue his ministrations.
His eyes burn in a hankering frenzy, analyzing every little reaction he can get out of her before she turns the tables on him.
She closes her eyes in pleasure, throat stretching out and torso lifting, baring more surface for him to please.
Sakura breaths heavily, legs squeezing shut. She cannot believe this kind of simple form of touch brings forth this much twisted pleasure out of her. This is too light for it to be even considered foreplay, yet...she can get off just to the thought of him even touching her.
"N-no…" she tries to halt the upcoming teasing.
She is weak and needy and she knows he will abuse this knowledge to the fullest. He has always been a person to test her limits. Sasuke loves having the upper hand.
His hand slowly goes down and it reaches her ribcage, right at the center. Her nipples harden in response and she feels Sasuke shift above her.
When something hard grazes her stomach, her insides quiver. She is affecting him even though she is doing nothing to him in return.
Sasuke's movements stop abruptly when he realizes his body has been reacting quite positively to the display. He feels himself confined in his loose pants, the underwear straining against his hard length. Apparently, the object of his desires noticed it too.
This is where he loses the battle it seems.
Sakura opens her eyes slowly, her hands reaching her torso. Both of her palms lay flat on top of his hand – trapping him there. She takes it and starts to move it around her body, showing him just where she would enjoy for him to touch her.
When it reaches her right breast, she lets it loose. Sasuke keeping eye contact with her starts to massage her mound; first tenderly and then more roughly.
Depending on the reactions he gets out of her, his fingers play with her hardened nub, her thin t-shit an extra layer of teasing against her sensitive skin there.
Not knowing what to do with her free arms, she decides to test her power. She splays them flat on top of her lover's chest without so much a thought. His skin is a little cold and damp from sweat, his nervousness slipping through bodily fluids rather than expressions. Going up and down with each hand, she caresses his taught stomach, abs prominent against his skin.
Sasuke hums in response, an appreciative tone somewhere hidden in there.
Sakura makes it her mission to get more reactions out him before he finds out just how wet he has made her down there. His chest is there, pecs hard and her fingers skim over his nipples with a feather like touch.
His eyes clump shut and his body leans forward a little bit. He bites his lip and lets out a small sigh. Sakura smiles triumphantly knowing she is staring to push his buttons. Her hands descend lower, fingers toying with the waistband of his trousers.
Sakura looks from where her hands are, the bulge obvious and near to collision with the inside of her left wrist. She purses her lips and risks glancing up at him. He is breathing harder now, his hair falling like a curtain, his side bang hiding half of his face.
"Don't," comes out the strained response.
His jaw is taught, the angles of it sharp, someone would think he is mad.
He is mad alright, mad with desire.
Sasuke has been thinking a lot about these kind of moments the last few months, his mind conjuring up scenarios and positions – dirty, dirty little longing.
Nothing has prepared him for this sensation. He is powerless against her, needing her to feed his solicitude with ardor. Still though, greedy for her as he is, he struggles to shred his shyness away.
She sees right through him and pauses. "Are you sure?" she asks tentatively.
In an abrupt movement, he grabs her hand, grip strong on her wrist and slams it right back at the bed, near her head. An act of dominance will not hinder Sakura obedient so soon. She fights right back, seeing Sasuke struggle to keep her hand in place.
Sakura huffs and smiles smugly up at him. His face stays impassive, but his eyes glint dangerously.
Thinking she has won this round, the woman prepares a trotting remark. However, Sasuke renders her speechless with his next move. Abandoning his place above her, he straightens up and pushes his knee right between her legs, just below her searing heat. His lone arm reaches out and grips her left thigh roughly, pinning it backwards and spreading her legs apart in an instant.
Sasuke smirks devilishly at her.
The new position and attitude leaves her all hot and bothered.
Then, his hand finds its place just below her belly button. Leaning forward, he grabs one side of her shorts and starts pulling it towards him. Stunned, she allows him to take them off her.
Sakura wants, needs...she craves to see just how much further he can take it.
But despite all the excitement to see Sasuke's walls fall apart in front of her, she cannot help it when she tries to hide her half naked body from him. Only a thin layer of underwear is keep them apart. Feeling shy now is useless, but god these feelings in her heart are so intense and Sasuke acting out all her desires does not help her at all.
Sakura squeezes her legs shut, thighs pressed deliciously together and stomach taught - straining to keep her lower body hidden from his hungry eyes as much as she can.
In a way, Sakura muses, she is teasing him further by denying him access. Sasuke hates disobedience as much as he hates not getting what he wants.
As always impressed by her strength – even in bed – he clasps her knee and tries pushing it apart. "You don't have to ever hide from me." Sasuke says heatedly.
"I-I," Sakura struggles to find the right words, her blushing cheeks a hot flame on her face. "Sasuke-kun, please," she tries to prolong the inevitable.
How can he be so cool about this when they both know how reserved they are? Be that as it may, they both covet each others' touch and they have been doing so since their younger years.
Knowing she can hide herself no more and she is willing to give all of herself to him, all her scars and her invisible wounds, the pink haired beauty spreads her legs apart, baring her womanly figure to him.
It occurs to her that Sasuke is about to say something to her, but decides against it and prefers to speak with his body instead. With more space now free, the man finds himself snugly between her legs.
Before Sakura could realize what is exactly happening and what his next move is going to be, Sasuke surprises her yet again. Rather than mirroring his previous position on top of her, he chooses to cascade down gently with an objective in mind.
Continuing his ministrations, he smoothly lifts her shirt and scrunches it up towards her chest. With that out of the way, Sasuke starts peppering her belly with soft, open-mouthed kisses. It tickles a tiny bit, but the heat pooling between her legs is a tell-tale sign just how much this is affecting her.
When his hot breath fans above her damp underwear, she knows exactly what he is planning on doing to her. Then, Sasuke pauses and looks up at her questioningly as if to confirm if this okay with her.
To answer his unspoken query, Sakura sits up slightly and crosses her arms grabbing her white blouse by each side. She takes it off in one swift movement and quickly lies down, her eyes focused on the ceiling.
Sakura bites her lip, her hands finding themselves near his nape and fondling his shoulders in an attempt to clear any doubts in Sasuke's head that she may not be ready for this. No words need to be exchanged between them, Sasuke could tell even from the way she breathed if this kind of loving was unwanted from her.
She still feels coy, but, Sasuke knows how to handle her. His hand grips one thigh gently, putting slight pressure on it. He bends down and starts pressing delicate kisses right below her belly button and going lower. When his teeth graze the top of her baby pink, lacy panties, she lets out a tiny whimper. He bites the cute bow and pulls down; his eyes are closed and his fingers are digging into her supple skin, a sweet pressure pulling her back to reality.
Her feet trash a little bit, the covers of the bed becoming a mess in her wake.
Sakura unconsciously lifts her butt up when his hand places under her leg. Taking that as his cue, Sasuke grabs the underside of her lingerie and takes it off her.
With that out of the way, her legs spread apart and he leans back to take a good at her. So many thoughts are running through his head, too many things he wants to say to her. Compliment her beauty and ravishing body; even the most hidden parts of herself are pretty to him.
She looks gorgeous like this, all docile and yielding for him. Sasuke wants to worship her body and treat her with fairness; kiss every scar and caress every curve of her. Every little thing he cannot confess to her, he wants to convey it through every action he does just to please her.
The raven haired man wants to clear any doubts she might have in her head. He needs to make her his, claim her and show her how much she means to him. But first, he has to make sure she knows just how much he wishes to satisfy her.
Sasuke bends down once again, his head between her legs and his arm under thigh, his lone hand holding her captive.
Sakura puts her hands over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her upcoming reactions. When his hot breath fans over her wet folds, she loses it.
He hums thoughtfully as if he is pondering something and then his lips are on her most intimate area. First, a gentle kiss on her clit and then his lips part and he is consuming her wholly. Sasuke uses his tongue skillfully, parting her nether folds and lapping at her entrance. The skill he is displaying has the woman questioning her sanity.
He is very meticulous with her, going as far as using the sounds she makes as guidance. His mouth works in wicked ways and she is making embarrassing, loud noises.
When he pauses to take a breather, Sakura whines. The loss of this endless satisfaction turning her bratty.
"So wet, already," Sasuke says with pride.
Sakura wants to punch his face to the next dimension for that snarky comment, but he has her putty in his hands.
Her face is a little damp from sweat and she pushes a few loose pastel strands away from her sticky cheeks and forehead.
"Don't tease me," she pouts and she slaps his arm lightly – a warning.
Sasuke smirks as if expecting that reaction and then his hand leaves her thigh, a slight bruise already forming on her skin where he had been grabbing her.
Sakura's toes curl in anticipation, her hands settling flat at her sides.
At the same time, Sasuke's exploration begins once more, his mouth finding its place on her needy point. Her heart hammers in her chest and she feels her pleasure reach new heights when his fingers join his tongue.
He strokes her dutifully with his tongue while his two long digits spread her wet folds further apart, providing him with more access. Sakura moans in response, her legs unconsciously lifting with her feet landing gently on his shoulder blades.
Her eyes stop staring at ceiling and she watches as the man she desires has his face all up in her pussy, eating her out like she is the most delicious meal.
"A-ah, please," she keens, anything to lead him on.
Suddenly, he is sucking her clit benevolently, his eyes opening slowly when he senses her staring at him.
Sasuke's prowess activates committing this particularly sensual moment to his memory along with many others to come. Her green eyes are shining brightly and her skin glows; the color of her hair matching her skin, splashes of unique shades of pink intensifying her beauty to the next level. She is shaking slightly, trying fruitlessly to suppress her upcoming orgasm from reaching her too soon.
He itches to make her cum more than once, but his main mission for tonight is to make sure she remembers this night forever... just as he will.
Next thing Sakura knows, a finger is added to the mix and now both his tongue and this are hitting different pleasure points inside her.
Too soon, he suddenly stops and sighs against her quivering entrance. "Fuck, Sakura."
Those last few seconds were such a delicious sensation, she never wants him to stop until she is completely spent. Before she could prod him to continue, the woman feels his index entering her.
Sakura trembles when two fingers start going in and out of her in a fast pace, the intrusion welcome and needed. Then, as if this is not enough, his hand curls and his thumb starts teasing her clit simultaneously whenever possible.
Unable to do anything other than shake in his grasp, Sakura courses her hands roughly through his black hair needing to hold on to something. Her waist bends like a feline in heat, her chest heaving up and down and her breaths coming out in quick pants.
Sakura knows she might be hurting him with how much she is pulling on his hair, but she is unable to care at the moment. He deserves it for turning her in to this tiny, needy monster.
"Don't stop," she moans, face contorted in bliss. Her eyes are closed and her brows are furrowed in concentration. Sakura's mouth parts in a silent plea, her red lips shiny with spit.
She is so close, yet so far away.
Sasuke bites his lip, changes his position and moves to rest his forehead on her shoulder. He feels his member leaking precum inside his boxers and he tries to keep it together.
The man is listening intensely to all the beautiful sounds she is making and breathing hard. His pace is relentless and the muscle in his bicep is straining against his skin from the exertion he is putting it through.
Sasuke grits his teeth when Sakura's walls clench around his fingers, signaling she is close – he cannot stop now.
Sakura's arms loop around his neck and she hugs him close, their bodies sticking to each other. The position is not the most comfortable for him, but damn him if he does not love the way she feels around him. A few of her stiletto pointed nails dig into his skin, leaving angry marks on his back, but the pain just adds fuel to the fire.
"S-Sasuke-kun," she sobs into his neck, reaching euphoria finally. Her body spasms around him, his fingers getting coated with her juices.
Sasuke lets out a pleased sound, something akin to a quiet moan and rests his body on her, his hand coming at a stop and pulling out of her.
Sakura lies spent beneath him with her eyes closed and breaths shallow.
The black haired male feels immense pleasure and pride knowing he made her orgasm just with his fingers and his ego swells at her satisfaction. He has been wishing to be the only one to make her a hot mess like this.
Moreover, the discomfort he is experiencing right now because of her is distracting him from teasing her further, even though he truly enjoys watching her blush and squirm under his penetrating gaze and vexing comments.
His cock is solid hard and aching. It is borderline painful not only because he wishes to get his release soon, but also the whole stimulation confined in his pants is a dire situation that needs to be fixed immediately.
When she shifts underneath him, his boner brushes against her hipbone firmly. Sakura pauses, and peaks at him cautiously, her eyes burning with desire once again.
Not wanting her to make her uncomfortable, he tries to untangle himself from her, but the woman in his arms has other plans.
"You are…" Her voice speaks with purpose, however, her tone is light and shy.
Sasuke flushes and stays still as a rigid board, not wishing to discuss his rather big problem down there. He swears if she tries anything, he will lose control fully.
He is like a wild animal caged and untamed, but about to be set free.
The tall man starts to sit up on his knees in order to avoid the impending confrontation, but his member stands proud and obvious to the eyes. His hand, still wet from her peak, lies limply at his side. He swallows hard and blushes, turning to look the other way and avoiding her ignited stare.
Sakura's mouth waters at the sight displaying before her. Her beautiful lover has never looked hotter than this moment. His skin glistens slightly from perspiration, adding a nice glow to his body and accentuating his toned physique. Sasuke's bangs are tinted at the tips, damp from sweat.
His trousers, along with his boxers, hang low past his waistline and his pelvic bones peak out bringing attention to his happy trail and the prominent bulge in his pants. A vein is popping out in his bicep and Sakura catches a glimpse of his arm flexing, probably to ease up the muscle there.
Sasuke tries hard to compose himself in front of her, but his expression gives out and exposes how clearly turned on he is by this – as if his body has not showcased it enough to her.
It is her turn to command him, it seems.
Sakura decides to take the initiative since Sasuke has not moved from his spot. She approaches him cautiously, slowly sitting up on her elbows and regarding him. He murmurs something inaudible and glares at the mattress if it is the source of all his problems. Sakura takes his silence and his stagnant form as her cue and raises completely from the bed, her core still sore from his intense loving.
"Let me,"she whispers to him immediately upon kneeling in front of him. She almost does not recognize her own voice, with how seductive her tone sounds.
The moment the words come out of her mouth, Sasuke gets alert and his eyes widen a fraction. His lips part, ready to say something, probably to stop her, but he does not have the power to do so. She notices his sharingan is deactivated now, but the look he is giving her makes her resolute with her decision.
It incites her motivation to please him and show him how much she appreciates him and all of his efforts towards her. After that amazing orgasm he gave her, the talented man deserves to feel some kind of pleasure too. Besides, she cannot let him handle all that by himself, she thinks cheekily.
"Sasuke-kun," Sakura uses the best authoritative voice she can master at a time like this.
He instantly glances up at her, contemplating his options inside his head. Everything points to her with his dick in her mouth. Fuck him and his traitorous body. The most collected part of his brain melts at the thought of her even touching him.
Sakura's hand reaches forward and she palms him roughly through the layers of fabric, face set with a purpose in mind. Sasuke in return short circuits.
He allows himself to be completely overtaken by her.
His senses are overcome by the sheer desire coursing through his veins. Every fantasy, every touch, every word that has to do with her replaying like a broken mantra in his mind. He feels everything tenfold, the emotions consuming him like the black fire he commands to destroy.
Sasuke closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, his cheeks aflame and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His path to redemption has reached its final destination.
To become hers, wholly.
Sakura begins to massage him based on his repressed reactions like a twitch of his lip or the fluttering of his eyelashes. She starts gently, then she adds more pressure as she goes on. When the woman feels like she has had enough, she grabs the hem of his trousers and pulls down. The same process follows gradually for his boxers too. His cock stands proud and thick, complementing his already perfect figure.
Meanwhile, Sasuke, not knowing what to do, tries to minimize his reactions, preferring to stay reserved yet. His introverted nature makes him hesitant when he is the one on the receiving end. Despite that, he knows Sakura, being perceptive when it comes to him, will catch on quickly and she will accommodate herself to get customized to his still reluctant attitude.
Sakura understands why Sasuke acts so averse since he has yet to come to terms with that fact that it is alright to feel emotional. It is okay to express love and feel it consume you. He is afraid that if he lets himself go, he will never be able to stand even the thought of losing her.
When the outer part of her index finger starts to tenderly caress his hipbone, he shallows hard and opens his eyes to look at her.
The look she is giving him makes his heart flutter in his chest. Her expressive light green eyes shine with so much genuine adoration and her smile is sweet and warm; her whole aura feels inviting and secure.
"Sakura, I-" Sasuke begins, the tremor in his voice startling him.
"It's okay," Sakura says kindly and her other hand lifts, her palm laying flat atop of his heart. She soothes him with her next words, "It's okay to feel like this."
Sasuke studies her carefully, appreciating how much she cares for his comfort. She knows him so well and they are not even an item yet. He cannot wait to spend more time with her and learn each others' habits and quirks.
He lets out an affirmative hum and nods at her.
The powerful shinobi observes her as she continues her ministrations. Her left hand joins her right down there. She breathes out heartily, something akin to a laugh and an awkward smile etches across her face. Obviously, she has not done this before.
Then, Sakura purses her lips and with determined expression on her face, her right hand descends smoothly on his rock hard cock. The head is angry, red in color, his shaft one shade darker than the rest of his body. The girl inspects it as discreetly as possible and with two swift motions, her fingers circle around him and she begins to stroke him gently.
Sasuke lets out a hiss, unprepared for the foreign contact. He has touched himself before thinking of her, but nothing compares to this new, real sensation.
Her left hand stays still, clasping firmly his left hipbone to steady her movements. Sakura peers at him from underneath her pastel eyelashes, jade orbs shining innocently just as she bends down and places her bruised, scarlet lips right before his manhood.
Sasuke gulps down the saliva stuck in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing. Sakura breathes out hotly on it, blinks at him and her tongue comes out to lick him.
The first swipe of her cute tongue against his shaft makes him let out a quiet moan. Unconsciously, his lone hand grabs a fistful of her hair, tangling his fingers in her soft tresses. He tags her forward a little bit, her mouth and nose bumping on his hardness, urging her to take him into her mouth.
Sakura, realizing she needs to step her game up, opens up and pushes his cock inside her mouth. She starts to suck him, creating a steady rhythm in tandem with her right hand. Half of his member is inside her crevice, her jaw stretching and aching pleasantly because of his girth while her hand strokes the other half that she cannot fit in her mouth yet. His size is above average and hard to handle, but it is nothing Sakura cannot learn to master with Sasuke as her teacher.
In time, she swears, Sakura will learn to please him so good, she will have him begging for more.
The woman picks up the pace, and her taste buds feel a salty essence on her tongue. He is starting leak precum already and her suspicions are further confirmed when he commences to panting.
Sasuke is rougher with her now, pushing her forward and making her cheeks hollow out. Her jaw hurts, but the pain is welcome. She gags a little bit, but she does not relent, wishing to deep throat him further.
"F-fuck, Sakura," he curses, his pleasured groans music to her ears. Sasuke sees white behind his closed eyelids, and he grits his teeth trying to hold on longer to the feeling.
The air smells like sex, and the hormones releasing from Sasuke's body makes his manly musk even more intense as Sakura tries to breath through her nose since her mouth is busy.
She moans loudly at a rather harsh tag against her scalp, and the vibrations it creates against his dick cause Sasuke to buckle suddenly. Her fingernails dig into his skin anew and it stimulates him even more, his orgasm approaching at an alarming rate.
Her strokes become uneven, but faster. At that moment, he decides to look down at her, and seeing her like this, on her knees for him doing everything she can in order to satisfy him enhances his experience even further.
"S-Sakura," Sasuke tries to warn her, albeit late. "—I am going to-"
Before he can get any more words out of his mouth, his climax hits him and his hand grips her hair hard, holding on for dear life.
"A-ah," Sasuke lets out a racy moan; a foreign sound when it comes to him. His eyes close in satisfaction and he leans forward slightly, riding out the remnants of his orgasm inside her mouth.
The image that greets him is enough to make him hard again.
Despite being unprepared, Sakura took his cock well, his semen filling her up and quenching her thirst to please him. She shallows everything he has to offer, like its sweet wine pouring down her throat.
He releases her hair finally, and in return she lets out his member fall out of her mouth with a loud pop. At the same time her left arm abandons its place at his hip and steadies herself on the bed instead. Her lips are bruised and swollen, while her hair is wild and untamed, the endeavor clearly leaving her disheveled. Her chin is shiny with spit and some of the excess fluids that must have spilled out.
As if this is not erotic or sensual enough, her fingers come forth and tap on her coated lips and chin to capture any sticky residue that has escaped. She glances up at him from her spot on all fours before him and puts her fingertips in her mouth, savoring every drop of him. Sakura smirks mischievously up at him, putting his infamous sneers to shame.
Sasuke almost gives in, ready to act out all his shameful thoughts away.
Sakura's core still burns deliciously and Sasuke's reactions to her has made her a little wet, in need of attention again, but she does not voice anything out loud and chooses to let this moment pass. They have all the time in the world, after all. The beautiful woman sits on her knees, her palms resting flat on her thick thighs and she lets out a content sigh.
And just like that, their lust infused spell is broken, their awkwardness and shyness returning back, reverting to their usual selves.
The man seems to have a similar thought process, because he relaxes and following her lead, he sits down on the bed.
They exchange a few fleeting glances, unspoken naughty thoughts going back and forth between them; the newly made couple stays put instead.
A few minutes pass, and then Sakura is getting up. She is fully naked, but she is not ashamed anymore, flashing her gorgeous naked body to him.
"We should probably wash up," she comments as casually as possible to alleviate the awkward atmosphere. Unconsciously, the girl scratches her head and puts a few pink locks behind her ears.
In an act of bravery, Sakura adds a proposition.
"Join me?" she asks and extends her hand out.
"Aa." Sasuke nods and gets up from the bed in all his naked glory, leaving his trousers and boxers behind.
Sakura clasps their hands together and leads him to her private bathroom.
Sakura steps inside the shower stall, Sasuke following close behind and joining her, just as she opens the tap. She alters it from faucet to shower head and together they let themselves be washed by the hot steam. His lone hand grabs her by the hip, aligning her thick behind to his still semi hard length. Sakura bends over a little bit, both palms laying flat on the shower wall, probing him further to sensually rub against her. They stay like this for awhile, their aftermath of their hot desire still prominent, influencing their movements.
Sasuke leans in close and hugs her, his hand continuing its journey and draping over her tummy, bringing her adjacent to his chest in an intimate embrace. Then, he kisses her neck and closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. His black hair is fully wet, sticking to his face and obscuring the left side of it completely.
The pink haired beauty, enjoying the warmth provided by her lover, exhales in quick gasps, her lips parting – tasting the water on her tongue, quenching her imaginary thirst. Her pastel locks stick to every part of her face, the hair transforming under the influence of the humidity and turning one shade darker, a close mix of hot pink and coral.
Deciding she has had enough, and this could lead them further into an endless inferno of love and sex, Sakura grabs the nearest bottle of soap and pours some of it into her open palm. Noting the new development, Sasuke lets go of her and allows the woman in his arms to turn around. She starts to wash his hair, standing on her tip toes. To help her out, Sasuke tries to shorten his height by buckling his knees a tiny bit and minimizing the distance between them.
He inclines forward, favoring her gentle touch, her caresses soothing him. The man pulls her into his chest, his arm circling around her waist and hugging her close. Her fingers tend to his scalp, her nails scratching him and creating a pleasurable, fuzzy effect.
Finishing her task, Sakura washes the soap suds off his head with the help of the flowing water, creating bubbles in her wake.
To return the favor to herself, Sakura pours another patch of soap straight atop of her head and turns around. "My turn," she says, giddy.
"Sure, darling." Sasuke says ironically to tease her, smirking lazily. Not counting the implications of such endearment, they both brush it off as a joke for the time being.
He stars to tend to her locks, coursing his fingers through her hair and smothering the soap everywhere, washing her up. Sakura stays still, humming in appreciation at the gentle touch of her menacing warrior, marveling at the fact he is becoming this soft with her.
When his hand descends lower and starts massaging her nape, Sakura lets out a whimper, feeling her knots loosen under his skillful fondling; the stress leaves out of her in a whoosh.
Sakura relaxes under his ministrations, not minding him caressing her body, from her shoulder blades down to her backside. Stopping just above her perky butt, Sasuke halts abruptly, not wanting to be tempted to do more. Paying attention to his struggle, the woman turns around and gives him a chaste peck on the lips.
After that small show of affection, the beauty does not waste anymore time and pours soap all over his body in a rush. He grimaces instantly at the sudden assault, but she does not relent, giggling heartily at his reaction. With the steam volume lowered, she gets her chance to wash his body clean, helping him out and lending a hand wherever it deems necessary.
Busy as he is, Sakura begins her own cleaning process. Using her hands quickly, she gives herself a throughout bath, paying extra attention to her nether regions. Always preppy and careful, Sasuke makes a good use of his lone hand and he washes up nicely, leaving no spot unattended.
They both finish around the same time, and Sakura adjusts the temperature and flow to fit their needs. Splashes of hot water come out strongly, rinsing their foamy bodies fully.
With that out of the way, Sakura grabs the nearest towels she can find; one for her and one for her lover. She lends it to Sasuke who steps out of the stall, giving her more space. The material feels fluffy as she brushes the towel against her body, wiping any excess water.
Sasuke swipes his black locks behind, the purple of his rinnegan glimmering in the low dimmed lights of the bathroom. The mirror is foggy from humidity so his reflection is blurry, a haze of skin in contrast to his glowing eye and dark hair. Sakura's pink halo comes to view, the rose to his black abyss; the contradiction of their permanent colors a poem of its own.
He uses the towel she gave him to wipe away most of the wetness on his skin, tapping gently everywhere. Meanwhile, Sakura struggles to squeeze all the water out of her hair, the towel moving along her scalp to make her strands as dry as possible. Sasuke follows her steps and uses his own towel to dampen his locks just enough so it is not dripping on his shoulders anymore.
After that, they both take a few minutes of their time to finish some extra bathroom businesses respectively and they exit the room. Clean and fresh, the couple lies on the bed; the fact that Sasuke has his own separate room across the hall left unsaid.
Sakura turns to her side to look at him, her body slightly curling to adjust to her favorite sleeping position. Sasuke lies on his stomach, his head turned to his left, staring at her silently. It feels quite domestic like this, Sakura almost muses out loud.
"Good night, Sasuke-kun," she says sweetly, a toothy grin on her face.
She is happy, Sasuke thinks. He blinks slowly, savoring every second he is looking at her.
"Goodnight," the man responds, a tiny smile gracing his lips.
His eyes speak way more volumes than his words are. The night may be small, but their love is forever. Both content, they let the need to sleep overtake them.
Knock, knock, knock.
What an awful background noise for the nice dream she is having; Sakura stirs in her sleep, her brows furrowing as she tries to hang on to the sleepless state. The imaginary images stop and her mind draws a blank.
She feels a little drool on her lips and her hand unconsciously wipes it away.
Sakura-chan!
Ah, yes, Naruto of course, Sakura thinks, exasperated.
Then, the weirdest thing happens. The woman hears mumbling next to her, more specifically grumbling. This person must be quite grumpy in the morning, because next thing she knows, someone curses.
"Oh my god, I can't believe this!" The blond is desperate, his fist banging against the wooden door loudly.
"Wake up Sakura-chan!" Naruto bellows, frustration clear in his voice, "That bastard, Sasuke, had the audacity to leave before us!"
This piques Sakura's interest, because she clearly recalls being the last one to see Sasuke last night. Just when she was enjoying her sleep, her overly excited friend had to come and remind her about her problem.
But wait a minute…
The culprit came to her room last night.
"Shut up," a male voice mumbles hoarsely, the grouchy tone awfully familiar.
Sakura's eyes widen instantly and the sight that greets her makes her breath hitch.
Sasuke is on his back, his lone arm resting on top of his eyes, trying to prevent the sunlight from peeking through his closed eyelids. His chest is rising up and down, the blanket barely covering his naked torso.
"Open up, already, Sakura, don't keep me waiting!" The blue eyed man shouts desperately. He is ready to barge into Kakashi's room if his friend does not show signs of waking up anytime soon. Sasuke has obviously left the building since his room is empty, no sign of him found anywhere when the blond barged into his room.
His options are limited here, and he thought since Sakura usually wakes up early, she would be the one to keep him company until they meet up with Kakashi.
Sakura is about to have a quarter life crisis here. She cannot believe she woke up to this. First, she felt annoyed at being woken up so abruptly, and now, as she stares at Sasuke's good looking side profile, she feels like someone is trying to torture her.
Then, in flash, her memory floods back and Sakura remembers exactly what went down last night. More specifically, how Sasuke went down on her.
Her loins burn and her core aches in a gratifying sense.
"Oh my god," Sakura whispers, trying to keep her voice down. In any other circumstances, she would be shouting. The woman puts her palms upon her heated cheeks, gaping at her lover who seems to be clueless as to what is going on.
"Okay fine," Naruto announces dejectedly, his voice a tad lower this time. With one last look at the door, the young man finally leaves.
Sakura lets out a breath she did not realize she was holding in. Sasuke seems to be wide awake, although his attitude leaves no room for discussion. He is still quite sleepy, and Naruto's wake up call was not the best to start the day with.
"Finally," The man besides her mutters. Sakura pokes his arm, curious to see his reaction to their predicament.
He looks at her from the corner of his eye, processing everything in. When his stare softens, Sakura greets him breathlessly. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun."
She gazes at him lovingly, remembering how his words left searing marks on her heart, how his lips felt against her skin, making her his.
"Morning," he mumbles and turns to his side, bringing her lithe form close in an intimate hug. Sakura fits herself into his embrace instantly when she realizes what his intentions are.
The couple snuggles silently for a while, their soft exhalations the only sound in the room. The birds are lightly chirping outside, creating a nice cicada in the quiet morning.
"The idiot can be quite a hassle in the morning," Sasuke murmurs suddenly as if commenting about the weather.
He pulls her closer, basking in her scent. His gentle touch, a huge contrast to his past self who was selfish and harsh. She is making him kind again, bringing forth the child like innocence he used to have. The man sighs against her, his heartbeat calm and his mind clear from any insidious thoughts.
The only thing important in his life is in front of him, right in his arms.
Sakura laughs, a beautiful sound and it rings inside him like a bell signaling happiness.
"Yes, always," Sakura responds, a teasing smile on her lips. "But he is our idiot and I wouldn't trade him for the world."
"Sure," Sasuke sneers, mirth somewhere hidden in there.
"Should we..?" Sakura suddenly asks, the implications clear. She gazes up at him seriously, awaiting for his opinion, making sure he is comfortable with all this.
"Let them figure it out on their own," Sasuke says, his eyes sincere. "Besides it will be funnier that way," the black haired man smirks, enjoying immensely the possibility of Kakashi and especially Naruto struggling.
"Hm, fine," Sakura smiles, her eyes glinting evilly. He is becoming a bad influence to her, but she will not lie and pretend that she will not be enjoying torturing those two – their funny comments about her beloved Sasuke-kun had teased her far enough.
Having decided that, the couple gets up and starts preparing for their day. Sasuke collects last night's clothes and wears them again. He bids Sakura a soft kiss goodbye on the forehead and heads to his room to finish up getting ready. Sakura blushes and stares at this retreating back fondly, a huge grin forming on her lips.
When he is out of the room, Sakura punches the bed in excitement, letting out a muffled cry, "Shannaro!".
Half an hour later, all members of Team seven meet up at the hotel lobby. Naruto's reaction is instant, proclaiming how he is going punch Sasuke's lights out for disappearing. The man explains, cool and collected, how it was none of the blond's business where he went. This arises some suspicions and some raised eyebrows as to where Sasuke could have went.
Sakura is trying to be subtle, really, but she is having too much fun. She giggles every now and then, throwing fleeting glances at her lover who is avoiding answering any questions about his whereabouts, probing the curious men even further to try and understand what could have possibly went down between the full of tension – not yet or so they thought – couple.
"I am going to find out what what is going on here and when I do, I will never let you guys leave it down," Naruto swears – an oath he is bound to regret really, really soon...
#sasusaku#sakura haruno#sasuke uchiha#sasusaku fanfiction#sasusaku fanfic#ssfanfiction#ssfanfic#ssfic#vasoula writes#this whole ordeal took weeks my bro#i tried my best#i proud of this
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2020 Creator Wrap
2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works
I was tagged by the oh so talented @irolltwenties!
Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
I’m not a particularly prolific writer (WIPs for days, but completed projects? Not so much). Somehow in this hell year though, I did manage to complete more fics than in any previous year for a total of seven new works (~49k words, all on ao3), plus a chunky chap of a long running WIP (~20k words) so I’m actually pretty damn proud of myself! I also made some new fandom friends in 2020 which has easily been one of the biggest delights of the year & has definitely helped my creative momentum, so ty all for that. <3
Counting down from 5, here are my favs:
5. Downtime
I have endless love for JayRoy and it felt so good to finally finish something for them for once this year! All of my past WIPs primarily focused on them ended up firmly in my graveyard folder, including the fic that this one shot was originally meant to be connected to. I liked the way this turned out well enough to clean it up and post it on its own though, so at least now I can say that I have something published for them at last.
(Also it got me back into the JayRoy headspace enough to outline a whole YJ/Earth16 JayRoy fic that I’m excited to start drafting in 2021, so we’ll see where that goes...)
2.3k NSFW; A mix of playful sweet and roughness, just like them.
4. Mirror Image
Bluepulse Week really saved me this year in terms of forcing me to just write, damn it! Did I finish all the prompts this year? Nope. Did it get me to complete a handful of fics that I ended up really loving? Yes. This was one of them.
This fic zoomed into existence entirely out of necessity as an alt idea to a prompt that I had a much longer idea for, but didn’t have time to complete. It then got a positive enough reception that I decided to turn it from a crack-adjacent, passable one-shot to a slightly more developed two-shot by request of one of my commenters. Really, it was writing that second chapter that ended up endearing the fic to me.
6.3k Humor, time travel shenanigans & accidental dating. This fic is the sweetness of teenage crushes, the confusing mess of discovering your sexuality, & laughter with your best friend.
3. Soft Wesper One Shots
Would you look at that, another nsfw piece. Could it be that I’m starting to get to the point where I can look back at completed nsfw fics without cringing terribly? Love that for me.
This fic took me by surprise, tbh. I wouldn’t consider myself a part of the grisaverse fandom (I’m utterly ambivalent toward the OG trilogy & have no plans to read them), but I did fall deeply in love with the whole Six of Crows gang earlier this year to the point of having quite the book hangover afterward, unable to pick up anything else except related fanfic for a couple weeks straight. These fluffy, nsfw scenes were born out of that, and I was pleasantly surprised to see such a positive response to them in the comments. The whole SoC gang has my heart, but the dynamic between Jesper and Wylan in particular got my writing fingers itching.
3.7k Domestic, post-canon fluff & tender sex with flirty Jesper & blushing Wylan abound.
2. Stick With Me
Ohh, I still get warm fuzzies thinking about this fic! If I’m only low-key proud of the first three on this list, this is one I’m legitimately very proud of. I had this idea on the docket already from a convo with @ivyxwrites early this year (or maybe last year? who knows, time means nothing anymore) but used Bluepulse Week as the excuse to finally get started, and I ended up adoring the process of writing it far more than I anticipated.
As much as I love planning out meticulously crafted, plotty stories, sometimes all you want to do is pick some well-loved tropes out of a hat instead and run with them (in this case: stuck in a cabin, only one bed, & heated argument leading to confession). It was freeing to just mess around and have fun with this fic, knowing pretty much right from the get-go how I wanted it to unfold and seeing it so vividly in my mind. It also probably helped that I was writing it for Ivy; it’s much easier for me to stay motivated when creating directly for my friends.
Finishing this was also such a serotonin-filled burst of pure victory for me since, as previously stated, I’m terrible at finishing projects--particularly multi-chap fics, particularly within a decent timeframe.
25.5k A showcase of the essence of what I love about the best friends-to-lovers dynamic. Part character study, part wires getting crossed & uncrossed, and whole idiots to lovers. This fic is the warmth in the pit of your stomach from a yearning made real & the sudden clarity of realizing what you were looking for had already been there all along.
1. The Rest Pt 1: Delicate (Remember Me Chap 4)
Oh, Remember Me. Of everything I’ve ever written, this story remains the one I’m most proud of and certainly the closest to my heart (not to mention the longest running, whoops). The first iteration of the beginning of this story was actually drafted back in 2017, but I walked away from it for a couple of years before deciding to dust it off and try again. It has spiraled into something far bigger in scope than I originally planned for, but I’ve come to love the path it’s led me down so far, and finishing this whopping 20k chunkster of a chapter was like breathing a huge (if temporary) sigh of relief.
This chap was particularly cathartic to write because it allowed for a number of convos between the boys that had really needed to happen, and was finally the ‘getting together’ moment the fic had been building toward for a while. It’s also so sappy I could die, but I will not be apologizing for that, lol. I was really hoping to get Chap 5 up this year as well, but y’know. Sometimes things just don’t work out like you plan for and that’s okay.
Chap 5 does have 17k done already (with prob another 5-8k still to go) & I’m itching to share it, but no sense in rushing if the end result would suffer for it. Luckily, everyone in comments has been kind enough to beat me over the head with ‘take your time, we don’t mind/we’ll still be here!!!’ which I’m immensely grateful for. So, at least the pressure to hurry up and get it done is purely self-inflicted.
Of all my works, this fic has not only gotten the most passionate responses, but has also been the main gateway for me to interact with other bluepulse creators, which has been a real joy. Nothing brightens my day like the essays people leave me over there from time to time after discovering the fic. That kind of engagement is the highest praise, & responding is very self indulgent fun for me (bc, clearly, I could go on and on about this fic & YJ in general forever).
54.8k total so far (WIP). Bart & Jaime’s relationship journey from beginning to ‘current day’ (aka the moment the fic begins), using amnesia/memory restoration as a framing device. The high highs and low lows of first love, navigating a 3 yr age difference, and the long, winding road from best friends to lovers as the years roll on. Slow-burn-adjacent (in terms of both the boys’ relationship to each other and reader’s relationship to the fic bc of how long I take between goddamn updates).
Tagging @ivyxwrites, @incorrectbatfam, @paintingwithdarkness, @bluepulsebluepulse
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Transformers Review #2
Here I am again with the second installment of my very own incredibly self-indulgent toy review (potential) series that is an obvious and thinly veiled excuse for me to talk about the things I like + substitute for true socialization in the wake of quarantine.
And since he’s the one I keep on my desk to hold my tablet pen like a tiny, evil secretary who is no doubt plotting against me:
This is War for Cybertron: Earthrise Voyager Starscream.
Right off the bat, it’s a good first impression. The shape and colours are very classically ‘Starscream’, which is no surprise, given the entire gimmick of Earthrise (and the wider Generations line, really) is essentially ‘G1, but newer’. Nostalgia is a deep pool that companies like Hasbro are never afraid to dip into, what can you say?
The reds and blues are lush as hell (although I have seen a bit of chipping on the red paint! Blue seems to be coloured plastic, tho), but frankly the grey is a bit dull and boring. It wouldn’t be so bad if the back of him wasn’t such a wall of grey. Face him forwards on the shelf, I suppose?
The orangey-yellow of the cockpit is a nice splash to really bring the A-game of the primary colours, very eye catching, and all of it topped off with a glossy black head.
His eyes don’t have much to bring to the party with how small and strangely sunken into his face they are, especially with the awning of his forehead casting them into eternal shadow. They’re honestly a bit difficult to see. Maybe its a statement on Starscream and his duplicitous nature? Yeah probably not. They are a lovely red when I shine my phone light on them, however.
The face sculpt is a good point as well, with nice, clear features and even a bit of a sulky frown, for extra Starscreaminess.
And even if his neck is a kind of hilariously thin, it does give him a good amount of mobility in his head, both tilt and swivel.
His whole body is riddled with sculpting and detail, absolutely covered in little roboty looking lines and bits and bobs that help bring him to life and help the weapons ports and seams blend in. Much like the colours, there’s more on the front than the back, but seeing how the back is mostly jet as a opposed to robot, and thus largely flat and smooth, I can forgive.
His proportions are just the tiniest bit off to my eye - arms just a touch short and his head just a bit small, but that’s probably so it can fit into the nosecone kibble-hat hanging gracelessly off his back, which I would have an easier time being mad at if it didn’t allow for my favourite feature of the whole toy
would you believe this is the first thing I did after opening the box? Because it was.
He’s got large, stable feet perfect for balancing, stepping over ones enemies, or climbing the ranks. You go, Starscream.
Good, solid legs with no awkward hollow sections. Unfortunately the big ol’ solid stompers are about the highlight of the legs- the posing ability on this guy is lackluster, to say the least
His shoulders and elbows are about standard, nothing spectacular, but that up there is as far as his knees and legs will bend. The knees manage 90~ degrees, but he can’t even really sit down, and to move his legs up at all you need to raise his little red skirt crotch flap thingy. They don’t move backwards at all, being blocked by part of the alt mode. Hm.
But, y’know what? He does have those classic turbine tits, so there’s that. Silver linings.
The transformation is about 30 steps, and once I’d done it a few times I found it to be easy to memorize and a decent amount of fun to do. It had some neat little steps such as folding his forearms around the rest of his arms and then hiding them in his chest- after removing the cockpit, of course. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the cockpit in his chest is the actual one in the alt mode, I’m far more used to Seeker molds using a fake-out for that. Although it does leave his chest with a bit of a gap in it in alt mode. Eh. Give and take.
The actual act of opening his chest was damn difficult and a touch nerve racking, it was stuck fast and I ended up having to pry it open (thank you, trusty prybar thing I keep on my desk) all the while being sure I was about to break it. Luckily, it didn’t break and is opening easier now that I’ve done it a few times. The wings did pop off, tho. Good thing they go straight back on.
His legs are pretty simple, pull his shins open, fold them up, clip them together and click them in place, in a move that is similar (but much simpler) to his arms. I actually managed to get to that stage without the instructions before realizing I was baffled by where to stick his arms. I’m not the best at puzzles, ok?
Or, if you are so inclined, you can skip the legs and make a bit of an awkwardly upright gerwalk
y’know. If you really wanna.
Once you get through all the major steps, the alt mode snaps together pretty satisfyingly.
The nosecone really beefs up the length of this thing (it’s actually a bit too long for the lightbox I use for my photos, damn), and the sheer jet-ness of this alt mode makes me kinda want to woosh it around the room making my own low-flying aeroplane sound effects. So I did. At least I resisted the urge to toss him. For now.
On the downside, the underside kinda shatters the illusion a bit. He’s head is well hidden, if technically still visible if you know where it is, but damn does his torso look like a torso. The rest of him might be disguising itself as not-a-body a bit better, but it sure as shit ain’t disguising itself as a jet. And there’s no landing gear. *Siiigh* I suppose you can’t have everything.
The topside, while very jet-y, is a bit of a slab of grey as well. Only the touches of red, white and blue and the lovely purple Decepticon badges stop it from looking kinda unfinished. But, hey the cockpit is semi-transparent, and you can just about make out a lil seat in there for a hypothetical pilot which I think is cute for some reason :). My one issue with the topside is the weapons port smack dab right in the middle there, like some kind of space-robot blowhole.
As for accessories go, he comes with his two null rays and that’s about it. They got well on his arms in robot mode and on his wings for the alt mode (or you can stick one in the blowhole if you really want, I suppose?), but he can’t really hold them in his hands like pistols, just in case you wanted him to do that.
They go pretty well on either his upper arms, as I prefer, or you can turn his arms and put them on his forearms if you so desire.
Sadly, no crown... though I’m sure one is available online if you really, really want.
His box, strangely enough, doesn’t have a secret code in it to fit with the Earthrise gimmick of decoding a star map. It did come with the little red bit of plastic for finding the codes, however.
In conclusion: The alt mode is pretty great and a lot of fun to play with, and I’m pretty happy with this to be the main Starscream of my collection and I‘m certainly not hankering for a new one anytime soon, I do kinda wish he had better posing. And the disappointing legs almost make me wish I gotten the Siege one instead, which I hear has some pretty amazing legs, with super deep knees. Fortunately for me I am a bit of a sucker for an Earth jet alt mode over a Tetrajet, so I can’t despair too much.
And he does do a superb job holding my pen.
Like so.
#i am a dumb#transformers#maccadam#starscream#toy review#transformers earthrise#im playing with my toys#yeah thats gonna be my tag for tf toy posts now i guess
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