#got wiped by the downpour update..

[fivepebble]

had 700 cycles on survivor in my original unmodded rain world save. i miss her

[peachsayshi]

Hello can I request a part 5 for the inexperienced reader where they finally do the deed? Thank you and I really love all your writings. You’re amazing!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (part 4) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 7,712

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: hi, nonnie! I haven't posted the official part 4 for playboy geto x reader, so here is an update! part 5 is the final part of this mini series and I am still figuring out the scenario for the big moment. I had this idea in my head and really wanted to write out. I hope you enjoy the update!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; hurt/comfort; the first fight; making up; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; fingering; practice makes perfect *wink wink*

There’s a downpour outside - a peaceful shower trapping you in a cocoon of stillness. Grey clouds collide, orchestrating a rumble of thunder to disperse across the horizon. You squeeze the glass of tea in your hand and breathe out a heavy sigh as you continue observing the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.

Standing in pensive thought, you find yourself contemplating why the sky isn’t a saturated blue, and why you are not wiping away grains of sand between your toes while tasting the salt in the air and getting kissed by the sun in the red bikini that you are wearing.

This is your first weekend away with Suguru and it was supposed to be perfect…magical even, but…

You haven’t exchanged more than a few of sentences with him in two whole days.

The truth forms as a discomforting lump in your throat. At this point you’re convinced that the turbulent events of this week is what conjured up such a dreadful storm to hijack your mini vacation, and you’ve been a bundle of nerves ever since because you’ve never had a fight with him before.

Not a real one, anyway.

Whenever a situation got remotely tense, your boyfriend would be the first person to jump in to talk things out. Suguru hated having petty arguments and always relied on strong communication to put out any fires before they set everything ablaze. You know it’s entirely unfair to put that expectation on him but, the truth is, you’ve grown used to him mediating, and depended on him to squash potential disagreements without question.

What you weren’t expecting was for things to escalate between you two because it’s never happened before, and now you aren’t sure how to proceed.

What if he leaves me?

The nauseating thought of a potential break up twists your gut, but you brush off your anxiety as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip of soothing chamomile.

Couples fight, you think, it’s normal to fight.

Your fingers pinch the ceramic so hard, you feel it might crack from the pressure. You’ve tried to reach out since then, but Suguru remained unresponsive to your little gestures of peace.

Why is he still ignoring me?

You lean your head against the window and exhale, eyes fixated on the storm’s dramatic performance. A bolt of lighting crackles across the sky, channeling you back to the night on Suguru’s sofa just two weeks prior.

His fingers were trailing the outline of your thigh, keeping your body tucked perfectly into his frame. You were twirling a strand of his onyx hair between your fingers, listening to him proposition the idea of the weekend trip away.

“Yuki is one of my oldest friends. She lives in a beach house, so that’s where we will all stay…” he casually stated. “We visit her a couple of times a year, and I know she would love to meet you.”

You said yes without hesitation.

At the time, there was no need for you to question who Yuki was or how Suguru knew her. There was no need for you to pry deeper into the memories of his past because you were just living in the bubble of present happiness.

“We used to spend every summer at her beach house while I was in university,” Suguru informed you a few days later, slipping in that tidbit of information right after describing all the places he was excited to take you to. “I love that her beach house is so far away from the city. Plus, they have the best soba in the village. You’ll love it, I just know you will…”

This deep infatuation you shared for Suguru had your heart swelling up more often around him. Your valves were arrows to a compass that always spun directly towards him, your shining North Star. Your eyes were glazed over in a rosy shine of deep romance, making it hard for you to blink away the hue of its affection, but you should have taken a breath to catch yourself.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have reacted so harshly later on.

The ”problem”, as Suguru dubs it, happened two days before the trip.

Shoko invited you to join her and Utahime on a shopping date to pick up some new swim suits for the occasion. However, you weren’t expecting to see Mei Mei upon arrival. Your friendship with Shoko made it easier for you to blend in with the rest of Suguru’s group, but Mei always kept you at an arm’s length. For the most part, you approached any interactions with her with caution. You made sure you were nice and didn’t try to pursue anything beyond cordial conversations. Despite your attempts at playing cool, Mei continued making snide remarks about you being “Suguru’s Girl” and enjoyed addressing you condescendingly.

Truthfully, she treated you as if you were simply a stranger with one foot out the door and not the person who was in a committed relationship with her friend.

Your eyes, powdered with pink infatuation, had you feeling indifferent about her sharp tongue on this particular outing, and it made you loosely speak up about how excited you were to go on this trip with your boyfriend.

Your walls were completely down when Mei went in with a new attack while you were all having dinner together.

“It’s adorable how excited you are. Besides, I think it’s about time that you met Kiki…” she giggled, earning a glare from both Shoko and Utahime.

“Kiki?” you replied like a naive child, all wide eyed with an innocent pinch between your brow.

“Suguru didn’t tell you?” Mei coos as she proceeds to take a sip of her milkshake. “That’s his special nickname for Yuki. The two of them used to spend their summers together getting high and fucking. She was his first, you know…”

Your cheeks were stinging with embarrassment. You glanced over to both Shoko and Utahime, praying that one of them would denounce Mei’s confession.

Instead, Shoko shook her head with disapproval and simply added, “we all know that it wasn’t serious…”

“Wasn’t serious?” Mei interjected, her cruel eyes fixed on you. “Suguru was in love with her…”

“He wasn’t in love with her,” Shoko sternly answered. “They were friends. Don’t make up stories in your head”

Mei swirled her straw around her vanilla milkshake. “We are his friends too but that didn’t stop him from hooking up with us either. The only difference is that Yuki is the one who broke his heart afterwards. Suguru didn’t speak to her for an entire year...”

“How about you don’t stir up problems for no reason, Mei.” Utahime bit back, and Mei responded by rolling her eyes with mild disinterest.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. Everyone at this table, except Shoko, hooked up with Suguru at one point,” she let out a pretty laugh, one laced with wicked intent. “Maybe this is something we can all bond over at the beach house. Compare notes and what not…”

“How about we dial back the bitchy attitude and put the subject to rest” Shoko interjected, and Mei merely huffed before sipping her milkshake with nonchalance.

Hot, heavy jealousy coiled around your skin, and you used every ounce of restraint not to pick up Mei’s drink and toss it right in her face. By the time your brain was able to connect the dots to formulate even a single sentence, the conversation swiftly moved onto another subject.

You reached for your soda, slurping the icy beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off.

This isn’t the first time that Suguru’s friends have made teasing comments about his past, but Mei took it too far.

The worst part about that god-awful interaction is that it was working out in her favor.

Why didn’t Suguru tell you?

The question sat in your head up until you returned home. You were in a bitter state, choosing to curb Suguru’s calls and ignore Shoko’s messages.

She still called you the next morning with a heartfelt apology.

“We’ve all known Mei for years so we put up with her attitude,” Shoko explained, “But you owe her no allegiance and what she did was uncalled for. I’m really sorry about that…”

“It’s fine, Shoko…” you insisted, but your tone was hard and defensive because it wasn’t fine and you barely got any sleep thinking about what she said.

“I had a long conversation with her last night, and she’ll be backing off from now on,” Shoko consoled.

“Great,” you answered through gritted teeth, trying your best not to hurl the phone at the wall.

“Look,” Shoko added on with a sigh, “I know Suguru doesn’t have the best track record and I know we all give him shit for it, but we also all know that we’ve been too hard on him. He really, really cares about you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You wished those words were enough to sway you back but they felt just as empty as the space in your chest.

Why didn’t he tell me?

You couldn't stop wondering why.

The day before you left for the getaway, you were giving Suguru the coldest shoulder. He had come over to help you pack your things, but instead was left puzzled by your behavior.

You leaned away from his kisses, always tilting so he aimed for your cheek. You shrugged off his touch, pretending to busy yourself with searching through your closet and picking your outfits. You could feel his piercing stare from over your shoulder, those dark eyes dissecting the softest parts of you to get to the root of the problem. You tried to focus on the music from gently playing through the speakers, but as you walked over to your bag to pack another dress, Suguru quickly reached for your hips to drag you onto his lap.

“What’s wrong?” he asked seriously, his voice the tip of a sharp blade pressing into your heart.

You shook your head, caressing the fabric between your fingers. “Nothing, I have a headache,” you repeated firmly, sticking to the same excuse that you had given him earlier.

“Sweetheart,” he replied tenderly, your body stiffening when he brushed his lips over your shoulder to leave a contemplative kiss. “What’s actually wrong?”

You froze, your anger scalding your insides as it bubbled to the surface. You squeeze the dress between your hands, creasing the smooth surface. Suguru rests his chin on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to at least acknowledge him.

“Is it true that you were involved with “your friend” Yuki?”

You hid your hurt with sarcasm, her name rolling off your tongue with a hint of disgust.

Suguru lifted his head from your chin, his fingers pinching against the fat of your hip while his other hand moved to reach for your jaw. He angled your face towards him, a pained expression masking over his breathtaking features.

“Who told you?”

“Mei,” you answered sharply, “apparently Shoko and Utahime know all about it too…”

“Look,” Suguru sighed, “it’s…it’s not what you think…”

“Did you to spend your summers getting high and fucking?” you interrupted harshly, mimicking the cruelty in Mei’s voice as you posed your question.

Suguru closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Is it true that she was your first?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly this time.

“Yes, but…”

You rolled your tear soaked eyes as you stood up on your feet, tossing the dress into your bag as you folded your arms across your chest to give Suguru your back.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The fact that Mei had all the ammunition in the world to hurt your feelings, or that she knew that your doting boyfriend would keep this from you.

Suguru stood up, carefully approaching you from behind as he extended his hand out to find your waist once more.

“Mei’s a gossip,” he contended, “I told you that when we first met…”

You spun on your heel to meet his anxious stare, drilling your fury right into him.

“That’s not the point,” you argued. “The point is that you lied to me! The point is that you spent weeks going on and on about “your friend” without even warning me that you were both intimately involved…”

“We put that shit behind us years ago. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I didn’t think I had to. Mei shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Didn’t think you had to?” you repeated with confusion.

“There was no reason to,” he replied with annoyance, his fingers digging into your waist. “Because you and I are supposed to trust each other, and considering how things have been going between us, I thought we did.”

Your heart raced at the fact that Suguru was still keeping his mouth tight lipped over what happened with Yuki, which did little to help your own dramatized theories on their relationship.

If he was being secretive about something as serious as this, then who knows what other tales he might have been spinning with that honeyed mouth of his.

The knot that’s wrung itself around your mind finally snapped.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have an inventory of people I slept with to keep track of…”

Suguru winced, the involuntary grimace an unusual sign of hurt. Your apology shot to the tip of your tongue, and you were ready to jump right into his arms and plead for forgiveness. This brutish commentary was so unlike you, but you didn’t know how to keep a handle on your own insecurities this time around.

“Keep track, huh?” he answered softly, the faintest hint of distress coming through and making you nip at your bottom lip out of guilt. “Must be hard having a boyfriend who is so used up…”

“No...you're not. That's not what I mean, I’m…I’m just saying that it’s different,” you retracted, easing your delivery to try and explain yourself. “You just don’t have to worry-”

“Is there a reason for you to worry?” he rebuked, quirking his brow in genuine surprise.

You scoffed, “You told me about everyone else you’ve been involved with but with her you are suddenly keeping quiet-”

“Please, tell me you’re fucking joking right now-“

“You can’t-” you interjected, clearing the catch in your throat as your voice warbled uncomfortably. “You can’t just expect me to be okay with this, Suguru. I have to be able to trust you and that’s only going to work if you are honest with me. Keeping something like this from me doesn’t help…”

Suguru dropped his hand away from your waist, and folded them over his chest tightly. There was a twitch in his jaw, and the disappointment in his eyes spoke volumes. You both stood there in silence, studying the other in deep concentration.

“I thought you did trust me. You were practically naked in bed with me when you said it. So what is it then? Do you trust me or not?”

Your face grew increasingly hot recalling his birthday, the way you were soft, vulnerable and pliable sprawled out against his chest...

“I do…” you replied with very little confidence. “Sort of…”

You swallowed your regret to stare down at your feet shamefully, and allowing your pride to fight the battle for you. If you can waver his insecurity even a little then maybe you might find some equal footing with the discomfort.

“I can’t change my past. I can’t erase the people I’ve been involved with. Yes, we both had different opinions about how we viewed relationships, but we aren’t going last long as a couple if I’m the only one that has faith that this is going to work,” Suguru informed calmly, using his fingers to gesture between you both.

Hearing those words from your lover’s lips felt like surprise blow. You parted your mouth to exhale quietly, clenching your hands tightly by your side as you naively waited for him to attempt to turn things around.

“I’ve given you everything. I’m not going to force you to trust me,” Suguru adds on, his tone morphing into a cold, cruel note. “And if you fucking can’t, then I’m done.”

Your head shot up in surprise, the front of your brows upturning sorrowfully but Suguru had already turned on his heel to walk out of the room, slamming your bedroom door right behind him.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

The car ride to the beach house was terrible.

Neither you or Suguru said a single word to one another. He kept his focus on the road, while you kept replaying the words “I’m done” on repeat in your head.

It was disappointing to start off on such a sour note because Yuki’s beach house was the perfect getaway spot as Suguru described. The location was rural, and the building was quaint and cozy. The size is big enough to fit your entire group, but not to the point where it was gaudy. Suguru mentioned that the property belonged to Yuki’s mom, which she eventually inherited after she passed away.

Meeting Yuki took your breath away. From the moment you laid eyes on her you understood how a young Suguru would be infatuated. She was striking - tall, with long, golden hair that cascaded all the way down to her butt. Every part of her was perfect, from her toned tummy revealed by her short black cropped top, to her legs that seemed to go on forever which were covered in only a pair of loose denim shorts. She had a naturally cheeky grin, like there was something up her sleeve that no one could quite point out, and sharp brown eyes that were simply inviting.

She pulled Suguru in for a warm hug, and ruffled his hair like a sister would.

“Sug! Your hair’s getting long! I like it!” she chirped with a big smile, while Suguru held an effortlessly casual stance to play off that the two of you haven’t been ignoring each other this whole time. Yuki instantly turned to face you, “And you must be the girl that stole his heart! I’m so glad to meet you! This guy never shuts up about you…”

You felt small against her, and it wasn’t just due to her height. You could feel yourself shrinking into your own shame hearing her talk about your lover. Whatever doubts that sparked due to Mei’s burning statements were quickly turned to ash.

Yuki gave you a house tour and explained that Shoko was sharing a room with Mei and Utahime, while Satoru and Nanami bunked in another.

“If you’re comfortable you can stay in Suguru’s room. He kind of has his own bedroom from how often he’s stayed with me. If not, I’ve got a pull out sofa in my room,” Yuki informed, while you were trying your hardest to undo the tight knot in your belly.

Getting to know Yuki over the course of the two days only fed into your regret. You couldn’t help but watch her interactions with Suguru, only to conclude it was no different than how he behaved with Satoru and Shoko.

Even when he addressed her as “Kiki”, it came out with a level of comfort that felt a familial familiarity. If it wasn’t for Mei and her devious manipulation games, you would never have even have assumed that the pair were intimately involved with each other.

As your stubbornness started chipping away, you decided to at least try and make amends with your boyfriend.

On the first night, after getting ready for bed, you broke the long hours of silence by asking him where he was going after watching him get ready to leave the room that you both were supposed to be sharing.

“I’m staying with Satoru,” he curtly responded, and slammed the door behind him before you could get another word in.

Yesterday was painful to say the least. You attempted to sit down with him and Satoru for breakfast, but Suguru excused himself only a couple of minutes later. By mid-morning you texted to ask if he would like to join you and Shoko to walk around the village. You even brought up his favorite soba shop, but found yourself left on read.

His behavior was harsh and quite obvious. By lunchtime Shoko pulled you aside to ask if everything was okay.

“We’re fine,” you answered breathlessly, your worry sending tingles to the tips of your fingers and toes. “We got into a bit of an argument in the car, but we’ll talk things over”

Dinner last night was supposed to be a fun get together at one of the local omakase joints, but it turned into you and Suguru sitting on opposite sides of the table barely acknowledging each other.

You were trying to steal his glance, but he wouldn’t stop avoiding yours. Afterwards while all of you were standing outside, you found the courage to reach for Suguru’s hand to grab his attention.

“Hey,” you whispered low enough for only him to hear to avoid making it obvious to the others. Your heart fluttered when you noticed that Suguru didn’t let go of your hand, but instead pressed the pads of his fingers lightly against your palm to return the gesture.

Almost like he was saying hello.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” you asked, eyes hopeful and desperate. “It’s nice outside tonight, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t gauge what he was thinking, but you paid close attention to his reactions. Like the way his eyes dipped to your fingers slightly interlaced with his own, and how his digits were merely tracing yours in the most featherlight touch.

Did he miss you too?

“I’m going out with Yuki tonight,” he announced, his tone sharp and daring.

Your heart winced.

You weren’t used to this side of Suguru at all.

You let go of his hand, and nodded your head to feign acceptance but your throat was tight and tears were glazing over your woeful irises.

“Oh, okay!” you answered with as much confidence as you could muster up. “I guess…I guess I’ll see what Shoko is up to. And-”

Your voice cracked when Suguru let go of your hand. The emptiness a cold touch against your palm.

“I-I hope you guys have fun catching up tonight-“

Suguru nodded his head, taking your breath away for only a second when he leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on your brow. Not giving you a chance to finish your statement.

The gesture shatters you, because you know that it wasn’t genuine.

He was simply putting on a show, keeping up appearances so that the others don't suspect that something is wrong.

You cry yourself to sleep all alone in bed, all the while holding onto the hope that he might just show up to remind you that everything is okay.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You’re still staring out the window, watching the droplets trickle down the glass. Lost in the peaceful moment, you barely hear Suguru enter the bedroom, which is why you jump in shock when you suddenly notice a large hand press firmly against the glass by your side.

“It’s pouring, huh?”

His voice, smooth like velvet and soft like storm clouds sent a tremor of desire in your belly. You steadied the cup in your hand, sensing your body trapped between the window and your boyfriend who was now standing prominently right behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper quietly, your chest rising and falling with anticipation.

You watch him tap his index finger against the glass, your gaze falling to the bracelet on his wrist. It was the other gift that you gave him on his birthday, and he hasn’t taken it off since. The rain patters outside, the white noise your safety barrier against the awkward tension, but you can feel it brewing behind your spine as you steady your breathing.

“Where did you stay last night?” you ask with a mousy voice, hoping that your tone wasn’t coming across as accusatory but simply concerned for wanting to check in on Suguru’s whereabouts.

“Yuki’s room, we were up late talking…” he responds gently, a hint of amusement in his voice but not one that was cruel. “She told me I could sleep on her pull out only after admitting that I’m acting like a little bitch…”

Your mouth naturally ticked into a smile at his playful tone, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip with relief from the casual delivery.

He huffs out a small laugh, "in case you're wondering, I just so happen to agree with her."

“It’s not just you,” you acknowledge, finding the courage to slowly spin on your heel so you can face him. “I started all of this…”

“Yeah, but you’ve been trying to fix it and I’ve been difficult about it…”

Your body crumples when your eyes met his, the power of his gaze forcing you to press your back against the window to stop yourself from buckling at the knees. His yearning matches yours, and the tension in your shoulders relaxes slightly when you note that he might have actually have been missing you too.

The ease in his expression is a white flag of surrender.

You place your tea cup on the table by your side. “I shouldn’t have let Mei get to me,” you admit, “I was caught off guard, and I took my anger out on you��”

“I shouldn’t have put you in that position,” Suguru adds on, shaking his head in disbelief over his own decision. “I should have been upfront with you about Yuki from the star, I just-” He drops his hand away from the window to find yours, and takes both of them between his fingers. His thumb smooths over your knuckles, his grip firm and protective.

“I just didn’t want to give another reason not to trust me”

Your brows furrow with confusion, and Suguru sighs.

“My family were in a bind financially. Even though I got a full scholarship to univerisity, there still wasn’t enough money to put both Mimi and Nana through school. I've known Yuki since I was sixteen. She told me to spend the summers with her and hooked me up with well paying jobs ,” he explains solemnly, almost like he is ashamed by the situation entirely. “So, that’s what I did. Her mom never stayed during the summer break. And yeah, shit happened between us. We’d get high, fuck around, drink, party…but it was just…a release.  It didn’t mean anything else. I swear…”

“Mei said that you loved her,” you fill in, piecing together parts of your own personal indignation. “I think that’s what really got me. Especially when you didn’t tell me yourself. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the secrecy…”

Suguru scoffs, “Mei says that only because I went back summer after summer. I didn’t let anyone else know the real reason why. They had no fucking clue what was going on with me and my last summer with Yuki is when we decided to stop but I-I fucked it up…”

You could see the strain on Suguru’s face, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to let him know that he could share whatever he needed to say.

“There was this girl that Yuki liked. I mean, really liked. She wouldn’t shut up about her. She was the reason why we stopped sleeping together. One night while we all went out, I got…carried away. I drank too much, I smoked too much, I wasn’t fucking thinking. I don’t even really remember what happened, but when I woke up the next morning…the girl was in my bed. When Yuki found us, she was…heartbroken. She didn’t speak to me for a year, and…I was devastated because her friendship means everything to me. She was the only person who knew how bad things were, and I returned the favor by…well, being myself, I guess…”

“Suguru, don’t say that…” you blurt out, your hands letting go of his as you eagerly clasp his jaw with equal protection. “I see you with your friends. You’re so loyal, and would give them everything if they asked. For somebody whose always so put together, what you did…is so out of character…”

He winced, his eyes narrowing with humiliation but it only taps into your empathy.

You bring his face closer, press your forehead to his own and notice him flutter his eyes close.

“You rarely talk about how hard it was with your family,” you mumble so close to his lips, keeping the conversation as private as possible even though it’s only the two of you in the room together. “I can’t even imagine the kind of pressure you must have been feeling. If you and Yuki are as close as you say are you, I’m sure she came around because she must have seen it too…”

His hands find your your bare waist. “She was the only one who could see it. Satoru, Shoko…it went over their heads…”

The quiet loops in right then, a rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. The hurt in Suguru's voice was loud and clear. The fact that he's always been there, but is so easily forgotten in the long run.

“I need to know,” Suguru confesses, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I need to know what else it’s going to take to get you to trust me because the odds are stacked up against me, sweetheart. And if I can’t make it happen, then I don’t have a single fucking shot at making us happen…”

The sting of regret burns your cheeks once more, and you extend your arms out to circle around your boyfriend’s neck. You want to kick yourself for making him doubt himself, especially after he working so incredibly hard to earn your favor.

“I swore I would never throw your past in your face. I’m so sorry that I did. You’re not the same guy that the people in your life paint you out to be, and I shouldn’t have let them try to convince me otherwise,”

You seal your apology with a small kiss to the corner of his lip, goosebumps pebbling your skin from Suguru’s thumbs tracing tiny streaks up and down your belly. “For whatever reason we don’t seem to make sense to anyone around us…”

When Suguru finds your eyes, you lose yourself into a dark abyss, sinking back into the depths of his soul.

“Is that how you feel too?” he questions seriously, “that we don’t make sense?”

You shake your head instantly to disregard the claim.

“Being with you is the only thing that I seem to understand, and I think that’s why I’m so scared to let you in,” you admit, the past forty eight hours of desperation formulating the next statement on the tip of your tongue. “I’m falling in love with you, Suguru. And-And I can’t seem to stop it from happening…”

Your breathless at the proclamation, your heart hammering so hard in your chest like it’s ready to burst out and bury itself into Suguru’s instead.

You watch your lover pull back slightly, his brows raise with astonishment.

“In love…” he breathes, like he can't believe the words himself, “with me?”

You nod your head, your hands roaming back to the front of his chest where you can feel his own stammering heart against your palm.

"Yeah, with you."

Suguru withers into your touch, his hand cradling your jaw as he dips in to press his mouth over yours. He parts his tongue to deepen the kiss, the weight of his body pushing yours into the surface, where behind you lightning bolts across the sky and grey clouds envelop you both in a shadowy cocoon.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You freely unravel, your joy sparking from the tips of your toe as to the top of your head knowing that your lover has chosen not to abandon you, knowing that you both are desperately seeking forgiveness.

You swear to yourself that it’ll never get this far again.

Suguru baptizes you with his kiss; it was a long reminder of your submission, of fully surrendering your feelings towards him. In between he moves your body, away from the glass and across the room, until you're pinned underneath him on the bed. He uses one hand to undo the wrap skirt around your waist, leaving you clad in your bikini to bathe under the light of his love instead.

His index finger loops around the string of your bikini top. He pulls away from the wet kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing your own, with the heat pooling in those dark irises enough to singe your skin.

“I’m not done with you,” he confirms, going back to the statement that ate away at you like a parasite. “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

A lock of his hair brushes his brow, and you move it aside to kiss the space.

“Even if you were, I’m not willing to let you go that easily,” you counter because you need him to hear it. You need him to understand that you see what he’s put into this relationship and that you are more than willing to return the effort.

He smiles, and it’s devastatingly perfect it makes you want to scream at the heavens for allowing someone to be this beautiful.

“Still think I’m worth the trouble?”

Your fingers trace down the bridge of his nose, your heart gooey and soft in more ways than you can understand.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you, Sugu.”

His head tilts with curiosity, eyes drooping in contemplation. He doesn’t say it but you can hear him asking “are you sure?”, but his doubt is enough for you to seal the truth with a kiss, and when Suguru returns it, you’re once again dissolving in his affection.

Your limbs tangle into one another, your bodies pressed so close that you can feel every hard muscle. The bed sheet rumples, is lifted away from the corners as it gathers messily. Suguru’s hand glides up your torso, over the swell of your breasts, and he hooks his fingers around your throat to tilt your neck to the side and allowing him the access to kiss the column.

You thoughtfully sigh, your eyes fluttering close at the sensation of him sucking on your delicate flesh. He leaves a trail in his wake, and you shiver when his hot breath fans your ear.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions in a hush tone, his voice dipping down an octave and sprinkled with desire.

You nod your head.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your body seizes, every single cell on fire. There’s a catch in your throat, and your thighs clench together nervously at the suggestion.

You tilt your head back to face him, your noses and lips bumping in the process. “I-I can do it for you-”

He interrupts you by shaking his head, his mouth carefully kissing your cupid’s bow. “You’ve gone down on me three times already…”

You can feel yourself soaking through your bottoms. A mixture of pleasure and shame heating your cheeks.

“But...what if-what if you don’t like it? I read somewhere that not all guys do...”

Suguru scoffs, baring his teeth as he gives you a full grin. He prods the tips of his nose onto yours, wiggling it teasingly from side to side.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he confesses before adding, “I promise you, I’ll like it”

Your heart is beating so fast you can’t think, but your body speaks another language as your thighs naturally spread a little wider to invite him in.

“Okay, yeah-” you consent, “yeah, you can…”

He smirks, his hands tracing to the strings of your bottoms. You lift your hips, watching him shimmy the fabric down your legs. He stuffs the material in his back pocket, his palms spreading your inner thighs apart.

You sit yourself up on your forearms to study your boyfriend with intrigue.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty…” he sighs, his attention focused on the triangle between your legs, and your belly flutters at the direct compliment.

He doesn’t move for a second, his hands adding the slightest bit of pressure on the meat of your thighs. He licks his lips and breathes out once more, taking just a second to compose himself.

“It’ll only feel good, no pain,” he informs, “but if it’s too much for you, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

Your hips relax further into the mattress, his assurance easing some of your apprehension. Your boyfriend knows how sensitive you are at this point, but you nod your in head in acknowledgement while gratefully appreciating that he regards you with such consideration.

He kisses up the apex of your thigh, carefully avoiding your sex to find a path to you hips. His tongue is sof and warm, tasting every part of your skin as it travels across your lower belly and further down your pubis. You gasp at the sensation of his breath so close to your cunt, your calf twitching when he finally places a gentle kiss on your lips.

And another kiss.

And another kiss.

And a fourth until your toes curl and he finally flattens his tongue along the slit.

“Oh,” you coo, the sensation so delicate and delicious. Suguru drags his love between your folds, up and down, and side to decide, his mouth circling around each lip as he sucks on them in between returning to glide his tongue around.

Your legs clasp around his neck, your heels resting comfortably on his back. The sound of Suguru sucking and licking up your pussy reverberates along with the storm outside. He reaches one arm to find your hand, and you intertwine your fingers to hold him tightly. His other hand slithers up your torso, and slips underneath your bikini top. He pushes the fabric above your breast, his thumb and index finger finding your tender nipple which he massages steadily as his uses his mouth to pleasure you.

The sensation builds, filters throughout your body in waves that roll over and over again. You squeak when he sucks on your clit, your heels pressing into his back but the weight of his body holds you in place to keep you from wandering away.

Your brows furrow, little tremors shaking your collar bones and your belly. “Suguru,” you whine sweetly, a moan following after when he pinches your nipple and nibbles on your clit. He lets go of your hand, his touch traveling down to your legs. He spreads your pussy, giving himself more access to bury his soft tongue deeper, further, to taste more of your nectar as it dribbles down his chest like he’s biting into fruit.

He groans into your cunt.

He grazes his tongue over your weeping hole, and your body thrashes with anguish and rapture. Your eyes spark in white, glittering like the lightning as it bursts and recedes into the ceiling above you. The band in your core is a tight spring that finally unfurls quickly and quite suddenly, your orgasm unfolding throughout your stuttering body.

“Oh, god…” you cry out, your back arching as Suguru keeps his mouth over your cunt, his hand holding you down by your lower body.

You gasp, panting heavily trying to cope with the aftermath. You think that Suguru might stop, but instead you feel him paint kisses all over your sex, rolling your nipple between his finger and moving to suck on your throbbing clit.

“Sugu?” you call out, your spine shuddering.

“Hmm?” he answers, his tongue massaging across the bud.

“You’re still…” you whimper, “you’re still going?”

He releases you with a pop, blowing air over the swollen bud before smiling into another kiss.

“You have no idea how long I can keep going”

Suguru only manages to keep his word by delivering another orgasm with his mouth buried against your cunt. You had tears in your eyes when you came, panting out “no more” with desperation because you couldn’t handle the detachment you were feeling in your own skin.

It feels so fucking good, but all too much at the same time.

Suguru doesn’t push. He won’t test his boundaries right now. Not when you’re just a vulnerable kitten in his eyes. No, the stamina will require time and patience, and for you to get used to him in the bedroom as well.

His disappointments sits between his brows when he pulls away, his hand smoothing over the curve of your pelvis as he kisses your hip and lower belly. He crawls over you like a panther, his shoulder blades rising with each calculative moment. You can smell yourself against his lips, savor your own arousal when he dips in for a kiss.

“Taste like heaven, baby girl,” he mumbles, his balmy words running over your skin like hot oil. “I could eat you out all night…”

He traces the column of your neck with his lips, and grins into your skin. You’re too shy to say anything, and he knows it. He presses his mouth against your neck, pecking over the marks that he’s imprinted.

Your hands fumble to reach for his jeans, your body desperate to do something for him too but Suguru grabs your wrists and pins them to your side before standing upright and undoing his jeans himself.

“Relax,” he insists.

Your eyes fall to his large hands undoing the button, and then unzipping the front of his pants. His grey boxers have a noticeable wet spot, and your pupils dilate when he pulls his dick out for you to see.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He pumps his cock a few times, sighing heavily as his thumb runs over the slit. To your surprise he shifts his position, and adjusts himself until he’s perfectly aligned with you.

He taps the fat, mushroom head over your clit. “You just open up for me, don’t you?” he whispers deviously, “Let’s practice…”

He slides his dick back and forth over your slit, supports his movements by holding both your knees as he grinds his length against your cunt.

“See how far I’ll stretch you out?” he mumbles, eyes hazy with hunger. “See how deep I’ll go?”

He slides his hands up and down your thighs, rocking back and forth and using you for friction. Soft grunts and moans escape him, and in between he halts for only a second when your quivering hand finds his length. His hips stutter when you start to lightly jack him off, your thumb teasing over the head.

Your eyes fall close, imagine the burn of him spreading you apart, of him making love to your body as you mold into his frame. To feel him in all his glory, for your bodies to become.

The image is raw, vulnerable, and so, so perfect.

There is nobody else you would rather give yourself too.

Suguru is the one.

“I can’t wait,” you beg dreamily, “Need you inside me, I can’t wait-”

His grip on you tightens out of surprise upon hearing your words, and he suddenly thrusts harshly as he curses out a broken “fuck”. Ribbons of white spurt out of him, painting your belly and tainting parts of your chest.

The both of you freeze as you look down, caught off guard by what just happened.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

Suguru cleaned you up using a wet towel to wipe his cum off your belly and chest. You discarded your bikini top afterwards while he removed his jeans, with the two of you then choosing to snuggle up against one another under the sheet.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Suguru confesses, finally breaking the silence. There was a slight blush tinting his cheek bones, and you giggle as you cradle his face in your palm and trace the shade of red.

“You’re usually so in control,” you playfully remark, and Suguru simply rolls his eyes.

“Not with you, I’m not,” he admits, his arm clenching around your waist as he closes the gap of space to tuck you into his chest.

You breathe in his scent, nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his tee.

"I'm glad we're okay now."

"I am too"

You curl your fingers around his shirt. “On your birthday, and just now…we could’ve…just gone all the way. You could’ve just-”

“Not here,” Suguru states seriously, the intensity in his voice prompting you to tilt your chin up and meet his stare. He plays with your ear, traces the shell thoughtfully before gently tugging on your lobe.

The butterflies flutter once again, your irises tinting in pink. You lean forward to kiss the sharp angle of his jaw.

“What was it like for you? Your first time?”

Suguru sighs, and purses his lips as he contemplates the memory. “Yuki was good to me, and it was nice,” he admits, but you’re entranced with the way he holds your gaze. “I sure as hell wasn’t as nervous as I am now…”

“Is that why you keep holding back?” you question innocently, apropping yourself on your elbow to rest your head on your hand. The bed sheet falling and exposing your chest.

Suguru’s eyes fall, his touch tracing the slope to outline the curve of your breast. “Do you want your first time to happen after a petty argument?”

You pout your lips with amusement. “Does it matter?”

“You’re not the only one who might be in love, sweetheart,” he responds, his words greeting the shining sun peeking through the clouds. “Of course it matters.”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

tags: @sellenite @kiwibao @allofffmypeaches @sugurussbby @kunigamisbaby @pandoraium @brownskinnedgirll

my works are available on tumblr and ao3 - any fics reposted on other platforms or other Tumblr blogs have been plagiarized. do not share my works on social media (tiktok etc.) © peachsayshi 

[longclawislightbringer]

Chapter Eight: Justice is Served

Rating: T

Relationships: Rosaline Capulet/Benvolio Montague, Helena/Princess Isabella, Livia Capulet/Count Paris, Rosaline Capulet/Prince Escalus (past)

Characters: Rosaline Capulet, Benvolio Montague, Prince Escalus, Livia Capulet, Count Paris, Princess Isabella, Helena, Stella

Summary: Rosaline and Benvolio race to Paris' mansion in the suburbs to find evidence.

Hello lovely readers, Today’s the day! I’m so excited to finally share the final chapter of Save the Date with you all. It’s been a long time coming, but I’m glad to experience it all with you. I want to take a second to thank a few people. First, thank you to unwrittenmusings, who created the Valentines in Verona event in February 2019. Thanks for such fun prompts, without which I wouldn’t have come up with this story. Second, a huge thank you to Ry for looking over all the chapters. You are the best! You can find Ry on Tumblr and AO3. Third, thanks to all of you readers for sticking with me for so long. I know it’s been a long time, and I’m grateful that you are still reading after all these years. Thank you for your comments and kudos; they mean a lot to me. Lastly, your eyes are not deceiving you: Save the Date is now part of a series. This story may be over, but there will be a spin-off featuring the CSI Techs John and Hero. Rosaline, Benvolio, and maybe Livia will make appearances, and Dr. Beatrice Duke-Hobbes from Chapter Three and her husband may also appear. If you’re interested, subscribe to the series and follow my blog for updates because, once again, I am the world’s slowest writer, and I don’t know when I will finish it. Without further ado, Chapter Eight. I hope you like it!

Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Read on AO3.

Rosaline sighed, letting the phone drop to her lap as she resumed her vigil at the car window, gazing out at the dreary evening sky. Budding trees, silhouetted in the sunset, passed by the window as the car crossed the city limits proper and into the affluent suburbs. Salty air from the nearby ocean wafted in through the cracked windows. Streetlamps zoomed past, the light glimmering in the puddles on the still-wet pavement from that morning’s torrential downpour.

“Still no answer from Livia?” Benvolio asked, eyes on the road.

“No,” Rosaline answered, resting her head on her fist. “I’ve called her almost twenty times in the last three hours.”

Benvolio followed the flashing lights of the Captain’s car as they turned off the main road into the Della Scala Gated Community.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” He squeezed her hand. “As soon as we’re done here, we can look for her if she hasn’t called yet.”

“Thanks.” Rosaline gave him a faint smile and picked up her water.

He kissed her hand and then turned back to the road with a devilish grin.

“It’s no problem. I can’t have my future sister-in-law go missing on my watch.”

Rosaline spat out her water.

“We just started dating today, and you’re already talking about marriage?” She wiped her wet hand on her trousers.

“Didn’t you hear Isabella at the rehearsal dinner? According to her, our wedding is inevitable at this point; it would be pointless to fight our destiny.”

Rosaline laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

Benvolio shook his head, “Not now, obviously. But maybe someday.”

“You really are something.”

“It got you to laugh, didn’t it?” Benvolio winked.

“I suppose.”

Ahead of them, the chief turned onto the long drive toward one of the newer mansions. Over the rise of the expansive green lawn, the beige and brick Tudor revival monstrosity came into view. Multiple asymmetrical gables stuck out of the body of the house, alternating between red brick and beige stucco accented with dark brown trim, which, for some reason, the architect had decided to add diagonally. A large bay window filled the first floor of the foremost addition. Shrubs lined the front of the mansion, leading to inexplicably vast patches of red rocks that matched the bricks.

Rosaline gulped as the car rolled to a stop on the street two houses down.

Benvolio turned the ignition and dropped the keys into his pocket.

“Livia is going to be alright,” he squeezed her hand again. “The Captain has Dogberry and Verges out looking for her now. We’ll find her, but right now, we need to catch a murderer.”

Rosaline squeezed his hand back.

“Let’s catch this bastard.”

***

As they exited the car, Rosaline double-checked the velcro on her Kevlar vest and jogged over to join Benvolio at the Captain’s circle at the copse of trees that obscured them from the front door of the mansion.

“The goal of this search is to find something that connects Count Paris to our murders.” The captain informed the crowd of officers. “This is not an arrest, but be warned, we consider the suspect possibly dangerous. He may have a woman with him—Livia Capulet. Our priority is making sure she is safe. Is that clear?”

The officers answered in the affirmative, and Captain Lawrence signaled to move out.

Rosaline drew her weapon from her holster and aimed, deploying behind the SWAT team with Benvolio at her side.

They approached the front door from the side, keeping out of sight of the gabled windows.

Flanking the door in formation, the officer in front of her rapped on the door as she crouched behind it, Benvolio at her six.

“Mr. Ferarri, open up.” The captain shouted. “It’s the police; we have a warrant to search the premises.”

Rosaline craned her neck to listen.

No answer.

The house stood silent.

The captain nodded, signaling the SWAT officers to enter.

The officer kicked in the door, a loud crash that sent splinters flying. Rosaline winced.

“Alright, let’s move,” whispered into his walkie. Following the team inside, Rosaline fanned out into the enormous foyer, under the dangling crystal chandelier embraced by a winding grand staircase.

Heart pounding, her shoes squeaked on the tiled marble floor as Rosaline broke off from the main group and stepped into the door on the side of the foyer leading to a small gallery. Crouching, Benvolio followed her. Guns at the ready, they checked the room.

It was empty save for the dozens of antique sabers lined the wall in glass display cases, their hilts glinting in the fluorescent, sterile light.

Benvolio nodded.

“Clear,” Rosaline said into the walkie on her shoulder.

“Copy,” came the staticky reply.

Shadows from the blades danced on the turquoise wall behind them. Information plaques listed the history of each sword. A series of swords detailed the restoration process from start to finish on one wall. In another, the blades fanned out from the center point in a ring, but one of the stands seemed to be empty.

“Captain, I think I’ve got something,” Rosaline reported, transferring her gun to one hand.

“On my way,” the walkie crackled in response as Benvolio joined her in the corner of the room.

“What you got for me?” Captain Lawrence marched in.

Rosaline pointed to the empty display case.

“It appears one piece of Paris’ sword collection is missing,” she said.

“Could be our murder weapon,” Benvolio remarked.

“My thoughts exactly,” Rosaline responded.

“Does anyone think that stretch of the wall over there is a little odd?” Benvolio nodded to the wall opposite the case with the missing sword, bare aside from a small bronze plaque at waist level.

Rosaline jogged over and pulled the plaque away, revealing a recessed doorknob. She jiggled it.

“It’s locked.” She wiped her brow.

They all crowded around the door as Captain Lawrence gave it a turn.

“That’s not going anywhere.” He grimaced and stepped away.

“Leave that to me,” Benvolio smirked, kneeling as he pulled a lock pick kit from the pocket of his leather jacket.

“I didn’t know you could pick locks,” Rosaline observed.

Benvolio winked.

“A holdover from my troubled youth. My friend Mercutio liked to get into trouble.”

While he fiddled with the lock, Benvolio, ear pressed to the wall, stuck out his tongue and closed one eye. Rosaline held her breath.

At last, the lock clicked open.

“The moment of truth,” Benvolio commented, tucking his lock picks back into their case as he stood.

Rosaline opened the door and flicked on the light switch.

She took a tentative step inside.

A solitary light bulb flickered above them, casting its dim light on a small wooden desk and a stack of cans of blood-red paint. A computer and the missing rapier rested on the desk. Benvolio pulled up the photo of the sketch of Angelo’s notebook that he had taken at the museum. The pattern on the hilt matched the drawing— and the bruising on their John Doe. Above it hung dozens of newspaper articles about Escalus’ efforts to quell the Capulet-Montague feud and a map of the city with pins stuck in all the crime scenes.

Rosaline brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Every photo of Escalus had its eyes scratched out.

“I guess that answers that question,” Benvolio followed her inside.

Captain Lawrence grabbed the walkie on his shoulder. “I need CSI in the East Wing Gallery right away.”

Tense silence blanketed the room as Rosaline holstered her weapon. Benvolio and Rosaline shuffled out of the way as the first CSI tech, John, appeared in the gallery with a camera.

“Get pictures of all of this,” Captain Lawrence ordered while the other investigator, Hero, arrived and set up their equipment. “I want documentation of everything. Let my detectives know if you find anything important. I’ve got to get the ADA and a judge on the phone immediately.”

“Will do,” Hero responded; Captain Lawrence nodded and exited the gallery.

The camera flashed in the background as Rosaline paced the gallery floor, biting her nails with her phone pressed against her ear.

“Livia’s still not picking up.” She dialed the number again.

Benvolio placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll find her.”

“Detectives,” John interrupted. “We’ve got something.”

Rosaline and Benvolio shared a look before heading to the doorway.

“We found this in the desk hiding under some papers,” Hero said, coming to the door as she dangled a revolver from her gloved fingertips. “It’s an antique Colt .45. They don’t make revolvers anymore.”

“That’s the same caliber as the gun that killed Truccio.” Rosaline breathed.

Benvolio slapped on some powder blue rubber gloves. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Knock yourself out.” Hero handed him the gun.

Benvolio held it for a moment, examining the intricate ivory inlay on the grip.

He flipped open the cylinder, revealing two missing cartridges.

“Looks like it’s been fired twice,” Rosaline remarked as Benvolio spun the cylinder back into place and dropped the revolver into an evidence bag. “Hopefully, ballistics will be able to tell us if it’s a match.” He handed the gun back to Hero.

“Hero,” John interrupted again. “I’ve got a stack of unopened burner phones.”

“Bag ‘em, John,” Hero ordered, setting the gun into her case for collection.

“Yes, boss,” John nodded.

“Are they Nokias?” Rosaline asked.

“Yes,” John quirked a stoic eyebrow, holding a plastic case aloft. “How did you know?”

Before she could answer, Captain Lawrence joined them in the gallery, pocketing his cellphone. “Judge Shallow just signed the warrant for Paris’ arrest; the APB’s already out. We’ll get him, detective.”

“Thanks, captain,” Rosaline inclined her head and tried to smile.

“All units,” their radios crackled to life, “be on the lookout for Paris Ferrari, Caucasian white male, late 20s, 6ft, brown hair, blue eyes. He is considered armed and dangerous.”

“Now we just have to find him,” Rosaline sighed, rubbing her temples.

“Where to start?” Benvolio wondered, pounding his fist against the gallery wall.

They all stood in silence until the muffled Star Trek theme trilled out of Rosaline’s jacket pocket.

They froze, holding each other’s gaze before Rosaline remembered herself, almost dropping the phone as she pulled it out of her pocket.

“It’s Livia,” she breathed.

Benvolio tented his hands.

They all waited with bated breath as Rosaline answered the call and put her sister on speakerphone.

“Good heavens, Rosaline,” Livia’s voice came out of the speaker, “why do I have twenty-six missed calls from you?”

“Livia, are you alright?” Rosaline bit her lip.

“Alright? Yes, I’m fine. What’s this all about?”

Rosaline practically heard the frown on her sister’s face.

“Where are you?”

“I’m watching Doctor Faustus at the Verona Opera House; it’s intermission. That’s why my phone was off.”

“Is Paris with you?” Benvolio asked.

“He’s in the bathroom, but I don’t see what that has to do with—“

“Keep him there.” Rosaline interrupted. “I can’t tell you much right now, but he’s very dangerous. Go on with your evening as if nothing’s wrong. We’ll get there as soon as we can.”

Livia stayed silent for a long moment.

“Alright,” she said at last. “I trust you.” A gong rang in the background. “Intermission’s almost over. I need to get back to our box.”

“Where are you sitting?” Benvolio interjected.

“Box Five,” Livia answered without hesitation.

“Go now,” Rosaline urged. “We’ll see you soon.”

“You had better explain what this is all about when you get here.”

The line clicked dead.

Rosaline, Benvolio, and Captain Lawrence stared at the phone in silence.

Gritting her teeth, Rosaline clenched her fist. “Let’s get this son of a bitch.”

***

Rosaline checked her watch as the Crown Victoria careened into the car lane in front of the Verona Grand Opera House. In a flash, Benvolio switched the gearshift to park and pulled the keys from the ignition.

Rosaline threw open the car door, vaulting onto the sidewalk in her rush to get to the theater.

“Hey,” a valet in a green uniform ran toward them. “You can’t park there.”

Rosaline slammed the door shut and flashed her badge.

“My mistake,” the valet stammered, stepping aside to let her pass.

Benvolio joined her in sprinting up the marble steps to the Opera House. Their shoes clicked on the stone as their back-up zoomed onto the scene, blue lights silently flashing in the distance.

“Hurry up,” Rosaline shouted over the din of screeching tires, “we’ve only got a few more minutes before the last act is over.”

They redoubled their efforts, flying up the stairs as if they had just ingested five cups of coffee.

Rosaline burst through the glass doors at the top, only pausing for a moment to check the plaque on the wall for directions.

“Box Five, this way,” Benvolio yelled as he swerved to head up the main staircase.

Lungs bursting, heart pumping with every step she took, Rosaline ascended the stairs.

Muffled applause rose from the theater through closed doors.

As they climbed, Rosaline drew her gun from her holster.

The applause grew louder.

When they reached the landing, they rounded the corner toward Box Five.

Taking positions on either side of the gilt doors, Rosaline and Benvolio raised their weapons.

“Bravo,” Paris’ voice came through the door. “Splendid!”

The applause died down.

“Well, that was wonderful, but I’m ready to head home,” Paris yawned. “What about you, darling?”

Benvolio raised an eyebrow.

Rosaline shook her head.

“Let’s wait for a second,” Livia responded. “There’s just so many people trying to leave right now—it would be better to let them leave first.”

A pause.

“You’re right, my dear. As usual.”

The doors to Boxes Four and Six opened, chattering opera patrons spilling out into the hallway.

“What artistry!” A woman in a faux fur wrap and deep mauve evening gown remarked to her companions. “A finer Mephistopheles was never—“

She gasped when she spotted them; her hand flew to her mouth.

Benvolio flashed his badge and motioned for the party to hurry past.

“What’s going on out there?” Paris asked. His chair creaked as he rose.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Livia explained, her voice trembling.

Dozens of footsteps sounded on the stairs; backup had arrived.

“No, I’m sure I heard something.”

Rosaline whirled around the door to join Benvolio’s side.

“It’s now or never,” Rosaline whispered to Benvolio as she took a flanking position to block the exit.

“No, don’t—“

Paris burst through the door, Livia hot on his heels.

“Give it up, Paris,” Rosaline barked, cocking her gun and taking aim. The safety clicked off.

Paris froze.

“You’ve nowhere to run,” Benvolio added, stepping beside her, weapon drawn, as their backup took up positions on the landing behind them.

“Rosaline,” Livia implored, stepping between them, “would you please explain what’s going on?”

“Your boyfriend’s the Hooded Man,” Rosaline rolled her shoulder and tightened her grip on her gun. “We found a boatload of evidence in a suspicious secret room in his mansion.”

She turned to Paris.

“Is this true?”

Paris moved toward Livia. Rosaline and Benvolio retrained their guns on him.

“Of course not, sweetheart.” He glanced between Livia and the barrels of the guns pointed at him. “Someone must be setting me up.”

Another step.

“I would never lie to you, Livia.”

One more.

“I love you.”

Livia’s lip quivered.

Tears welling in her eyes, she stepped away.

“I don’t believe you,” Livia bit out as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Shaking his head, Paris sighed. “I had hoped I wouldn’t have to do this.”

In a blur, he snatched Livia by the wrist and dragged her body in front of him as a shield.

A knife glinted at her throat.

“Let her go,” Rosaline gritted her teeth, her heart pumping faster.

“Of course. I’ll let Livia go,” Paris stroked a stray strand of Livia’s hair. “After you let us leave.”

Livia flinched, the knife sitting dangerously close to her artery.

“She is my beloved, after all.”

A chill ran down Rosaline’s spine when Paris smiled.

“Are you going to let us go? I don’t have all day,” Paris drawled, drawing Livia closer so that she covered him. All of him. All except his left leg.

Rosaline caught Benvolio’s eye and subtly inclined her head.

Benvolio nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible to the untrained eye.

“Tick-tock, sister.”

Rosaline whirled, training her gun at Paris’ exposed leg.

Her finger curled around the trigger.

The bullet ripped from the barrel, spiraling through the air.

“What the—“

It lodged in Paris’ leg before he could finish.

He crumpled to the floor, the dagger falling noiselessly from his limp hand.

Benvolio rushed over as soon as Paris hit the ground.

Livia stood, a statue, blinking, until she reached for the blood trickling down her neck.

“My leg,” Paris screamed. “She shot me!”

Benvolio kicked the dagger away.

Rosaline dropped her arms, the gun still smoking, and ran to her shaking sister.

Benvolio pulled his handcuffs from his belt.

“Paris Ferrari, you are under arrest for vandalism, conspiracy to commit murder, and the murder of—“

Rosaline holstered her weapon and pulled her sister into a hug.

“Are you alright?” Rosaline asked, rubbing circles into Livia’s back, just as she used to do when Liva got a nightmare as a child.

“I’m fine,” she whimpered. “I think I’m in shock, though.”

“You have the right to remain silent—“

Laughing, Rosaline pulled away reluctantly.

“Of course, the nurse would know when she’s in shock,” she looked over as Benvolio helped the paramedics haul Paris onto a stretcher. “Benvolio can handle the rest from here. Let’s get you to a medic.”

***

Flashing lights filled the night sky outside the opera house.

Rosaline leaned against the door of an open ambulance, watching Livia sip lukewarm water out of a paper cup.

“I’m sorry about all this,” Rosaline said. “I know you really liked him.”

“I would have liked him more if he wasn’t a murderer,” she sighed and pulled the crinkling trauma blanket closer, revealing an ugly crimson bloodstain on her purple evening gown. “I guess I’m just destined to be perpetually single. Or maybe I should give Rosencrantz or Guildenstern a call,” she quipped.

“There she is,” Rosaline smiled. “Although you should definitely still get a therapist.”

“I will,” Livia promised, setting her water aside.

Benvolio jogged across the road, skidding to a stop at Rosaline’s side.

“How’s the patient?” he asked.

“Better now,” Livia answered.

“What about Paris?” Rosaline asked.

“Captain Lawrence is riding with him to the hospital—we can take a visit to see him once Livia is cleared to go home.”

“You’re sweet.”

“Well, I couldn’t let my future sister-in-law down.” Benvolio winked.

Rosaline smacked him on the arm. “You haven't even proposed yet!”

“Keyword: yet,” Benvolio smirked. “Although, according to Isabella, our getting together was fore-ordained, so why fight destiny?”

“I can’t take you seriously when you say things like that,” Rosaline chuckled. She kissed him on the cheek, his beard tickling her lips.

Livia lit up like a firecracker.

“Wait,” she squealed, “does this mean you two are finally together? For real?”

“Yes,” Rosaline laughed, “we’re together now.”

A smug smile spread across Livia’s face.

“And don’t say I told you so.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Livia grinned. “But I did, didn’t I?” She winked at Benvolio.

Benvolio held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I will admit you were right—on this one occasion.”

“You better get used to that feeling,” Rosaline snarked. “Livia is always correct.”

“That’s right, I am,” Livia smiled. “You should listen to me more often.” She took another slow sip of water. “Well, at least one thing came out of this debacle.”

The flashing lights reflected off the wet asphalt, and the din of the sirens leaving the scene dimmed until Rosaline only saw Benvolio, her partner and best friend, glowing under the streetlamps and beaming back at her.

“Yes, it really did,” she said.

And she meant it.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Nabahero

An AU of my fic Habanero where Reader-chan hooked up with Nemuri instead of Aizawa.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Midnight x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None really apply

Sequel/AU: Habanero

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

“Oh my g-” you cried out, grinding your ass into the bed and your lover’s tongue. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna…”

You came seconds later, with such force that your cries of pleasure died in your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you gasped for air, your lover smugly sucking at your thighs.

You laid there, body twitching and overstimulated, going over the events of the past few hours.

You couldn’t believe what you were doing.

You couldn’t believe what you’d done .

_____

It started with a revelation that changed your world forever.

Your boyfriend took your hand in his and, gently, ended your relationship. You were too delicate, too sweet. He wanted someone who challenged him, who didn’t blush, who wore stiletto heels and red lipstick and slipped off her underwear in public.

Incredibly ironic, now that you thought about it.

The breakup hit you hard, leaving your friends more than a little worried about you. Their solution was to drag you to a nightclub in search of a one night stand, the prospect of which left you nervous. You weren’t used to such loud places, being surrounded by so many strangers.

It was all too much for you after barely twenty minutes and you excused yourself from the table, heading into the nearest washroom to freshen up your makeup and gather your nerves. You reapplied your eyeliner, your mascara, your lipstick, trying to drag out the process for as long as possible. You could think of nothing worse than sitting back down at the table and scoping out strangers with your friends. You just wanted to be home, watching Netflix in your pyjamas.

You stepped back out into the club, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself for whatever might happen next. You wondered how you could avoid it even more. How else could you waste your time?

As if in response, a commotion broke out at the bar.

You glanced in that direction, taking note of the crowds of people and single bartender, an idea coming to mind. You pulled out your phone and loaded the group chat, sending a single message to your friends.

>>I’m going to grab drinks. Any preferences?

Rei wanted shots, Sayaka wanted a Cosmopolitan, Yuiko wanted beer and you felt more than little smug as you joined the back of the queue. If you played your cards right, you’d be stuck there for at least half an hour.

You didn’t bother to try and push to the front, quite happy to take your time. Unfortunately, while this was a good idea in theory, it had dire consequences in practise. A girl in stiletto heels tripped as she left the crowd, sending her drinks into the air and glasses smashing to the floor. Everyone jumped back, yourself included, though you weren’t fast enough. Within seconds your dress was soaked in a combination of soda, sliced lemon and alcohol.

You cried out in shock, the ice from the drinks cold against your skin and your dress almost certainly ruined.

“I’m so sorry,” cried out the girl who had dropped them, “I-I didn’t mean to!”

You wanted to tell her it was fine, but the chill of the ice left you unable to form words. Instead you reached to wipe the alcohol from your face, breathing a heavy sigh.

For lack of a better option, you returned to the bathroom, sitting up onto the sink to squeeze out as much liquid as you could. You were fairly certain you had never looked such a mess in your life: you had soda on your shoes, mascara dripping down your face and ice in your purse. You reached for your makeup bag, meaning to try and salvage your face at least, only to give up and wash everything off.

You reached for your phone and updated the messenger, realising an opportunity when you saw one.

>>Change of plan. Someone dropped their drinks on me, so I’m going home to change.

>>Did you want me to come with you?

>>Nope, I’ll be fine.

_____

You promised to call your friends once you got to the train station, though only halfheartedly. By then, all you could think about was going home and getting into your pyjamas.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck wasn’t finished with you yet and it began to rain about halfway between your train stop and Ego , a downpour so sharp and sudden that you had little choice but to take shelter in a nearby izakaya.

You hoped that the rain would end just as quickly as it started, but it continued, raindrops hitting the ground with such force that they bounced off the tarmac. You rubbed your hands together and headed for the bar, meaning to order a drink and wait out the storm.

You knew you looked a mess. You were soaked through with a combination of alcohol and rainwater, face still flushed from where you had scrubbed off your makeup. You made a point to preoccupy yourself with checking your emails, concluding that the less attention you drew to yourself, the better.

You deleted the usual spam, accepted the usual appointments, sent a quick message to the group chat and took a long sip of your drink, pointedly avoiding the gaze of everyone around you.

You didn’t notice the stranger approach until they had taken a seat on the bar stool next to you, filling your senses with the sweet scent that seemed to linger around their person.

“Can I get my usual?”

You gave them a nervous side glance, wondering if they were as attractive as their voice, only to find yourself looking at quite possibly the most beautiful woman you’d never seen. She had soft curves and kissable lips and you blushed before you could stop yourself, wishing the earth would swallow you whole. Of all of the times you could run into a hot girl, why did it have to be now?

She took a sip of her drink and turned towards you, seeming to notice you were looking at her. You didn’t manage to look away in time, which only seemed to make her smile. You supposed that for a woman as beautiful as her, this must be an everyday occurrence.

You hoped she didn’t think you were weird, even if you couldn’t blame her.

You turned back to her, meaning to apologise for making her uncomfortable, only to find her smiling at you and resting her head on one hand.

“I’m sensing a story here,” she said. “Come on, join me.”

Perhaps it was her clear blue eyes or the sweet scent that seemed to linger around her. Either way, it was an offer you couldn’t-and didn’t particularly want to- refuse.

_______

Within twenty minutes you were sitting in a corner booth, laughing so hard that tears streamed from your eyes. Nemuri, as she had introduced herself, had ordered food for the table and listened attentively to everything, from your breakup to the disastrous events at Ego . She laughed at all of the right moments and stroked your hair at the more emotional ones, so gently that it sent shivers through your spine and between your thighs.

“And then,” you said, sobbing with laughter, “the drinks just…FWWSH...”

You waved your hands in front of your face, mimicking the way the alcohol had landed, feeling more than a little smug when Nemuri doubled over with laughter.

“I had to pick little umbrellas out of my hair,” you said. “My purse is flooded...it’s like an aquarium…”

“(Name), (Name), oh my god, stop, you’re killing me!”

“At least I didn’t have to queue for a drink. All I have to do is stick in a straw and I’m good to go.”

“PFFFFFFFT!!”

Nemuri clapped her hands over her mouth, shoulders quaking with silent giggles. You couldn’t help but join in, the absurdity of everything finally sinking in.

You wiped the tears from your eyes and gasped for air, Nemuri draping an arm across your shoulders.

“Listen to me,” she said, “men are dogs. You can do so much better than him.”

She said it so confidently that you almost believed her, in awe of how certain she sounded.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she said, giving your cheek a gentle squeeze. “Now. Let’s fix you up.”

____

A few minutes later you were sitting on the counter in the izakaya’s washroom, Nemuri wiping away what remained of your ruined makeup.

“You have such pretty eyes, (Name),” she said, stroking her fingers through your hair so softly that shivers ran up your spine, “has anyone ever told you that?”

You shook your head and she looked genuinely offended.

“People don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of them,” she huffed, stroking a finger from your jaw to your collarbones. You wished that same finger was touching you somewhere else, eyes darting from her hand to her face. She leaned over to kiss you as if she’d read your mind and you were sure your heart was going to burst. You froze in place, terrified that the moment you blinked it’d be over.

“Sorry,” she said, taking a step back, “did I misunderstand?”

“No,” you breathed, “no, that’s not it. It’s just...I’ve never…”

You’d never been arrested. You’d never dyed your hair a shocking colour or gotten a tattoo. You’d definitely never made out with another girl, no matter how much you might have wanted to.

Nemuri nodded in understanding, setting aside your purse and easing you down to the floor, turning you round to face yourself in the mirror.

“Would you like to?” she whispered in your ear, leaning over to kiss the back of your neck.

“I…”

You couldn’t believe this was really happening; couldn’t believe this had ever been an option.

You nodded before you could stop yourself.

______

“Oh my g-” you cried out, grinding your ass into the bed and your lover’s tongue. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna…”

You came seconds later, with such force that your cries of pleasure died in your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you gasped for air, your lover smugly sucking at your thighs.

Nemuri’s apartment was a short train ride from the izakaya and you had followed her to the station in nervous silence. You hadn’t known what to expect. Your only experience of sex was with your ex boyfriend and that had never amounted to much more than a blow job followed by halfhearted thrusts as you laid flat on your back and pretended to moan, whether for his benefit or your own you weren’t quite sure.

Your entire body had trembled with anticipation as Nemuri closed the door behind you. You had arched into her touches as she pushed you back onto her bed and hitched up your skirt, tossing aside your panties and burying her face between your thighs all within a matter of minutes. She moved like an expert, without a hint of doubt in herself or her own abilities. You had never known anything like it and it was almost as intoxicating as the feel of her tongue over your clit.

No one had eaten you out before and at first you were worried that she wouldn’t like the way you tasted. She had quickly picked up on your nervousness, though, sitting up to look at you and slipping a finger between your folds.

“You have such a cute little pussy, (Name),” she had said, choosing her words deliberately to turn your face a shocking red. “I can’t believe you get to sit on it all day.”

You had stumbled over your words at that, watching as she lowered herself back down and played you like a fiddle. Your body all but sang for her and you definitely made a lot of noise, trembling into her every touch without regard for how loud you were being.

And so, there you were, twitching and trembling on a stranger’s bed, watching as she got to her feet and discarded her own clothes. Her body was perfect and you drank all of it in, from the swell of her breasts to the downy hair between her thighs, wanting nothing more than to touch her. You wanted to make her feel as good as she had you, wanted to see how she looked when she fell apart with pleasure.

“Come here, kitten,” she said, guiding you back up onto your knees and lifting your dress up over your head and onto the floor.

“Let me look at you,” she purred, guiding you up the bed, “I want to see you.”

“I want...to see you too,” you said, to which she laughed and stuck out her tongue.

“I said it first,” she said, leaning over to kiss your lips before unhooking your bra.

It was the final barrier between you; the only stitch of clothing you had on. That knowledge left you nervous and you clapped a hand over your chest the moment you were even slightly exposed.

“What is it?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“It’s...it’s nothing,” you said, though you didn’t uncover yourself either. “You’ll probably think it’s silly…”

She was so beautiful, there was no way she’d understand your conflicting emotions. You wanted so badly for her to see you fully nude, but at the same time feared she’d find you disappointing. How could she not?

“Tell me.”

“It’s just,” you laughed under your breath, “you’re so beautiful and I’m…”

You chewed your bottom lip, remembering what your boyfriend had said to you the day of the breakup. You were sweet, vanilla and boring . You weren’t sexy, you didn’t know how to seduce people and you were amazed you’d gotten this far without her noticing. What if she realised the second your clothes were off?

She frowned, sitting up beside you and stroking her fingers across your face.

“Fuck them,” she said, more than a little venom in her voice.

“What? Who?”

“Whoever it was who convinced you you weren’t enough.”

“I…”

You blushed, not knowing what to say to that.

“Fuck them,” she said again, leaning over to kiss your forehead and then your lips, “fuck whoever taught you to put yourself last.”

She kissed your jawline and then your throat, humming with satisfaction as you lowered the arm that covered your breasts and exposed yourself fully for the first time.

She trailed her lips over your collarbones and down towards your nipples, swirling her tongue over them.

“Fuck whoever let you believe you’re anything less than perfect,” she said, using one hand to cup your breast while she suckled at the other. You sighed into her touches, so gentle and yet they stirred a longing deep within you.

“N-Nemuri,” you said, reaching for her to move back and embrace you, sighing into her lips the second they collided with yours.

You wanted her so badly, wanted her in every sense it was possible to want somebody else. She was only too eager to accept your kisses, rolling over onto her back and allowing you to straddle her.

“Now there’s a good kitten,” she said, reaching up to stroke your cheek before you leaned in to kiss her again. She stroked her fingers over your thighs as you kissed her, hands roaming your body in delight. “You’re such a good kisser…”

“Really?”

“No need to be so modest,” she said, “I think you’ve earned a special treat.”

“Special...treat?”

You peered down into her face for any hint of what you’d earned. She’d already made you cum, what else could she have in store?

“That drawer over there,” she said, “go take a look.”

You turned to the drawer she pointed out, shooting her a look of intrigue before crawling over to it and sliding it open.

“The lube,” she said, sliding a hand over your ass, “and the vibrator. Grab them.”

Your stomach fluttered just at the idea of them; your hands shook when you actually touched them. You swallowed loudly, setting them down in the center of the bed and waiting to see what she did next.

She sat up and took hold of them, uncapping the lube and setting the vibrator to one side.

“Lie back, sweet thing,” she said, patting the closest pillow. “Let me take care of you.”

You obeyed, resting your head and watching as she crawled towards you, intertwining her legs with yours and shifting her weight until your sexes touched. You gasped at the sudden heated intensity, Nemuri sucking in a single heavy breath before dripping lube onto the spot where your bodies collided.

“That’s a good girl,” she said, setting aside the lube and grinding her hips against yours, sending shivers of pleasure ringing through your core.

You moaned at the sensation and Nemuri grinned, grinding herself faster and harder, holding tightly to your legs. You watched her arch her back to keep up the rhythm, breasts bouncing every time her hips hit yours.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, reaching up to touch her.

She laughed, tilting her head to one side and gathering her hair over one shoulder.

“Touch me,” she said, taking your hand and guiding it along her waist, your fingers exploring the soft flesh below her belly button. She linked her fingers in yours and ground faster, leaving both of you moaning at the sensation.

She reached for both the lube and the vibrator, giving it a thin coat before slipping it into your hand.

“Hold it right...there,” she said, guiding you to the spot where your clits touched. “Now...hold it straight.”

She switched it on and both of you gasped at the extra stimulation, grinding your hips against the source. Nemuri dug her nails into your legs, gasping as she crushed her clit against the vibrator, a mix of your combined juices and lube dribbling down from your thighs to the bedsheets.

It felt so good. You’d never known it could feel so good.

You sighed in pleasure as your insides turned to jelly. You could think of nothing but the shoskwaves rushing through your core and overpowering your senses. Your ex had never made you cum like this. He’d never tried and you’d never presumed to ask.

“(Name),” said Nemuri, “look at me.”

You gazed up at her, taking in the haze of lust that covered her face, the rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath.

“You’re beautiful.”

Maybe it was because you were still caught between the buildup of a new orgasm and the freefall of the one before it.

Maybe it was the confidence in her voice, combined with the softness in her expression.

Maybe it was because she had no reason to lie to you.

Whatever it was, you smiled, eyes welling with tears.

You believed her.

___

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

“Promise?”

Hizashi sighed, waving away Nemuri’s concerns with both hands.

“We promise,” he said. “She’s important to you, we get it.”

Shouta nodded next to him.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t say anything weird.”

Several months beforehand, Nemuri had come to work in an incredible mood. It had been a while since she’d been in a serious relationship, but something about this new girl was special. So special, in fact, that Nemuri had refused to introduce her or even show off any photos. Hizashi and Shouta (though mostly Hizashi) had had to settle for occasional anecdotes and the smallest slivers of information, leaving the rest to their imagination.

They knew you were a social worker, though didn’t know which company you worked for. They knew your first name, though not your last, rendering any attempts to find you on social media somewhat futile. They knew you drank far too much coffee than was healthy. They knew you had (H/C) hair from the ones you sometimes left on Nemuri’s clothes. They knew you weren’t a pro hero but you were a great cook.

Now that the new term was well underway, she’d finally caved and invited you to the izakaya to drink with them, albeit reluctantly. She was serious about you and convinced they’d say something embarrassing- something relatively innocent that would drive you away.

“What do you mean you’ll make sure I don’t say anything weird?” said Hizashi, more than a little offended. “You know just as many embarrassing stories about Nemuri as I do.”

“Sure,” Shouta shrugged, “but I’m not the one who overshares.”

Hizashi began to protest the point, only to fall silent as an incredibly nervous Nemuri got up to greet someone.

“You made it,” she said, reaching out to wrap her arms around you and planting a kiss on your lips. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry, I got caught up at the office.”

Nemuri took a step back, allowing you to step towards the booth and into Hizashi and Shouta’s field of vision. Hizashi’s jaw dropped and Shouta took a lengthy pause before sipping his beer, both examining you from head to toe.

They didn’t know what they’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t you.

“Pleased to finally meet you,” you said, giving them a polite bow. “I’m (Name). Nemuri’s told me so much about you both.”

“Take a seat,” said Nemuri, helping you into the booth and failing to hide her nerves. “I’ll get you something to drink!”

She left you alone with Hizashi and Shouta, though not before making hand signs behind your back.

Don’t ruin this for me.

“So,” you said, giving them both a polite smile. “Come here often?”

[purrincess-chat]

Kill Em With Kindness CH5

So, I know I said I wasn’t going to update again until I finished the rest of this, but my secret MDCSP project is taking up a majority of my writing time now, so I haven’t been in the mood to work on this one, so rather than keeping you all in suspense even longer, I decided to go ahead and post chapter 5 since it’s finished. But for reals next time I update, I will be finished. There are only 2 chapters left, so I’ll get to them eventually so the final two updates can be close together.

Read on AO3

Chapter 5

Marinette laid back on her chaise, humming along to Jagged’s newest single Liar. Adrien’s interview had just ended, so she kept her phone nearby for his inevitable call. While she knew about the rumors spreading about them, she still hadn’t been prepared to hear Adrien tell the world they were just friends on live TV. Part of her hoped that this thing with Lila would bring them closer, and it had—just not in the way she wanted. No matter. There would be plenty of time for flirting after Lila was taken care of.

When her phone buzzed, she lowered the volume on her playlist and answered. “Nice job on the interview.”

“Thanks. We’re in good shape for tomorrow. Clara told me she’s really looking forward to our shopping trip,” Adrien said. “I can’t wait to see the look on Lila’s face when Clara posts about her new fashion advisor.”

“Do you really think she’ll do it? I mean, I still have to impress her with my choices tomorrow. What if she hates everything I pick out?” Marinette bit her lip.

“Relax. You’ll do fine. I know you will,” he assured her. “Clara really respects you. She told me earlier that she’s hoping you two can be good friends.”

“For real?” Marinette shot upright.

“Yeah, for real,” Adrien laughed. “Funny how almost everything Lila lies about is coming true for you now.”

“Well, she has one thing on me. Jagged did write a song about her…” Marinette turned the volume up with a smirk.

I see through your disguise. Can’t touch me with your little lies.

Adrien chuckled at that. “Maybe we’ll make an honest girl out of her.”

“Doubt it. She loves the attention too much,” Marinette said with an eye roll. “But we’re the ones with the real connections, so we still have the high ground.”

“And we have each other. I promise I won’t let her get you ever again, Marinette. If she tries to hurt you, she’ll have to go through me.” Marinette’s cheeks warmed, and she leaned back against the pillow, trailing her thumb over her lucky charm.

“Thanks, Adrien. It means a lot to know you’ll always be there for me,” she said.

“Of course. You’re a dear friend, Marinette, and I know you’d do the same for me.”

She smiled up at her ceiling, pressing a soft kiss to the lucky charm as if it were his cheek. “See you tomorrow?”

“Let’s make Lila regret coming after you.”

***

Raindrops pattered against Lila’s umbrella on the abandoned street corner. Most citizens had moved inside to avoid the downpour, but Lila barely batted an eye. She had business to attend to.

Her mental clock ticked away the seconds until a silver car rolled to a stop to her left. She kept her eyes forward as the window rolled down, and Gabriel glared out at her. It wasn’t that he held any personal disdain for her. Gabriel glared at everyone.

“I’m growing impatient, Lila. Every time I turn around, I see my son with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I thought you said you could handle her,” he said, and Lila’s jaw clenched.

“I’ve run into a few hiccups, but I assure you, I can take her out for good. I just need more time,” she said, watching the droplets splatter against the ground.

Focusing kept her from losing her temper. While it was incredibly tempting, Lila couldn’t afford to lose Gabriel now. She wanted to scream about how Adrien was plotting against her. That Marinette had been playing dirty. But Gabriel didn’t care for excuses. He needed results, so if Marinette was taking low blows, Lila would throw a few of her own.

“Perhaps it might help you to know that she and Adrien will be out shopping with Clara Nightingale tomorrow afternoon. Clara hopes that Marinette can give her fashion advice. She has dreams of being a designer, you know,” Gabriel said. “It would be a shame if something got in the way of those dreams.”

A smirk curled on Lila’s lips, the calm reassurance of Gabriel’s support relaxing her shoulders. “Understood.”

***

“Don’t be nervous.”

Marinette ripped her gaze away from the window and removed her fingers from her mouth. Wiping the chewed nubs on her pants, she let out a breath and began tapping her feet instead. Adrien gave her a soft smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll do great. Just relax,” Adrien said as they rolled up to Gabriel’s boutique.

Nathalie climbed from the front seat and opened the door for them, and Marinette took a deep breath.

“You’re right. I can do this. Clara wants to be my friend, so everything is going to be totally fi-” Her voice trailed off as they climbed from the car, blood running cold.

“Marinette? What’s wro- oh, no.” Adrien stopped in his tracks as Clara approached with the only person on the planet who could ruin this trip.

“Hey, Marinette, Adrien.”

Lila.

“Marinette, it’s so good to see you. This girl says she’s a friend of yours too,” Clara said, pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you two so much for inviting me to come along on this trip. I’m such a big fan of yours, Clara, and when Marinette told me she was nervous about picking out your outfits today, I was happy to come along and assist,” Lila said with a sugary grin. “Marinette and I share a love of fashion, and we bounce ideas off each other all the time. Isn’t that right, Marinette?”

“I wouldn’t say all the time,” Marinette grunted, crossing her arms over her chest, and at Clara’s curious expression she added, “because you travel so much, right, Lila?”

“It’s true. There are so many countries out there that need our help. I’m just doing my best where I can,” Lila said, pressing a hand to her forehead in a ‘woe is me’ fashion.

“How very noble of you. I can sense a deep bond between you two,” Clara said, and Marinette suppressed an eye roll. Nothing bonded people more than mutual hatred. “Well, there’s nothing to stand out here for, so let’s go in the door.”

Lila shot Marinette a pointed grin the moment Clara turned her back, and Marinette exchanged nervous looks with Adrien. This trip had just gotten a lot more complicated.

An employee let them in, the boutique having been closed for their private shopping spree, and Clara twirled around with a cheery squeal. “I’m so happy having you all here. Nothing’s better than spending time with friends so dear.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” Lila said, linking arms with Adrien.

“Ya know, I’m kind of in the mood for coffee. Why don’t you and I go get some, Lila? Nathalie can accompany us,” Adrien said, tugging her toward the door, but Clara’s bodyguard stood in the way.

“There’s no need for that today. Mme. Nathalie, will you fetch some straight away?” Clara said, and Nathalie nodded.

“Of course. You all carry on,” Nathalie said, oblivious to Adrien’s pleading look.

Adrien shot Marinette an apologetic wince, but she didn’t blame him. They should have expected something like this from Lila, so they would just have to navigate this one on the fly. It was risky, but Marinette had a plan.  

“Clara, why don’t we make this a little more fun? Why don’t Lila and I could both pick out outfits for you, and you could choose the one you like better. That way you have more options,” Marinette suggested, and Clara took her hands, twirling her around.

“I have been wanting to change my style, so let’s see what you two compile. For my first look, let’s keep it easy, an evening dress that’s not too cheesy,” Clara said before shimmying off to the dressing rooms.

“Not so fun, is it?” Lila said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know how you got in, but-” Marinette held up a hand to cut Adrien off.

“It’s fine. If Lila wants to play designer. We’ll let her,” she said before turning and stalking toward a rack on the other end of the store.

She shifted through hangers as Adrien fell in beside her. “Are you sure about this?”

“Look, Clara asked me to come on this trip, so obviously she respects my opinion. Not to mention your father, Audrey Bourgeois, and Jagged Stone have all praised my work in the past. I can beat her,” she said, meeting his gaze, and Adrien blinked in surprise.

“Anything I can do to help?” He asked, but Marinette shook her head.

“No. I have to do this on my own,” she said, grabbing a couple dresses from the rack and heading for shoes.

“You’ve got this, Marinette,” he said with a grin.

Marinette’s heart pounded as she assembled her outfit, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins only fueled her determination. Lila could challenge her in a lot of things, but fashion was hers. No amount of lying or deceit could take that away from her. She would beat Lila no matter what.

“I have your coffee.” Nathalie reappeared with two cups in a paper tray.

“Thanks, Nathalie,” Adrien said.

“Have you picked out your outfit, Marinette? I can take it to Clara for you,” Nathalie offered, and Marinette nodded, exchanging the garment bag for the tray.

“Thank you!” She bowed, and as Nathalie sauntered off, she let out a breath.

“Don’t worry. Clara will see the one with real talent in just a few minutes. No way Lila beats you,” Adrien said, and Marinette offered him a smile, taking a swig of her coffee before they made their way to the platform outside the dressing room to wait.

“She’s trying on Marinette’s pick first,” Clara’s assistant announced, and Marinette held her breath as the curtains parted.

Clara stepped out in a lime green skirt, a neon orange tiger-print shirt, a pair of red heels, and a black feathered hat, and Marinette’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“Marinette, your choices are a little off the wall. I’m not sure I’d have paired these at all,” Clara said, examining herself in the mirror.

“But that’s not-” She stopped short, shooting a cutting glare at Lila. Her fists shook, angry tears burning her eyes. Accusations formed on her tongue, but she bit them back.

Of course Lila wasn’t going to play fair. She should have known better. Without even realizing, she’d played right into her trap. There was no way to win because Lila already stacked the odds against her.

“This must be a mistake. Marinette didn’t pick any of those things,” Adrien said, stepping forward. “Her bag probably got switched.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t pick that outfit,” Lila said, pressed a hand to her lips to hide her smirk.

Clara tapped her chin with a hum then turned to Nathalie. “You brought Marinette’s bag to me. Do you know where the real one could be?”

“I placed it on the rack for you, and then I brought your coffee. I’m not sure what happened after that,” Nathalie said.

“Hmm…This is quite the mystery, but this outfit not being Marinette’s is something I’m glad to see,” Clara said, giving it one last disgruntled look in the mirror. “Having you come on this trip was such a delight, so I’ll give you one more chance to get it right.”

“Thank you, Clara!” Marinette breathed a sigh of relief.

“In the meantime, why don’t you try on my outfit, Clara?” Lila said, casting an impish smile over her shoulder at Marinette.

“It would be my pleasure. Let’s see how your picks measure.”

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest as Clara retreated to the changing room and turned to Adrien. “I should have known she’d try something underhanded like this to make her outfit seem better. I can’t believe I fell for it,” she sighed, flashing Lila a sardonic grin when she waved to them.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her next round so she can’t switch your outfit out for something lame,” Adrien whispered as Clara emerged from the stall.

“Now this is what I’m talking about. This outfit is totally me, no doubt.” Clara hopped onto the platform and gave a twirl, and Marinette nearly blew her top.

“But that’s-” Marinette started, clamping a hand over her mouth. “A great choice. I would have picked the same thing.”

Only she had because it was hers. Lila hadn’t just swapped her outfit for a ridiculous one—she’d outright taken it. Marinette could beat her easily, and Lila knew that. Rather than just make Marinette look ridiculous, Lila took it one step further and used Marinette’s talent to make herself look better. If there weren’t so many other people in the room, Marinette would have transformed on the spot and ripped her head off!

“Lila, your understanding of my style is quite profound. Marinette will have to try harder next round,” Clara said, admiring the stolen red dress. “For my next look, I want something more hearty—an outfit that will make me the life of the party!”

Marinette stormed from the dressing area, and Adrien followed her to the men’s changing room on the other side of the store. Pulling the curtain closed behind them, Marinette leaned against the wall with a huff, cupping her cheeks.

“Lila was ready for that. She’s catching up,” Adrien said, taking the wall across from her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“She’s already caught up, and now she’s ahead of us.” Marinette shook her head. “We need to gain back some ground.”

“What should we do?”

Marinette drummed her fingers on her jeans before digging out her phone. Adrien didn’t question as she dialed furiously then pressed the phone to her ear. She answered on the third ring.

“Hey, girl, how’s your shopping trip going?”

“Alya, I need you to do me a favor.”

***

Adrien paced across the floor to where Lila sifted through a rack. She didn’t look up as he approached, but an amused smile curled on her lips.

“Marinette has such strange taste, don’t you think?” She asked, holding up a bright green blazer.

“I told you to leave her alone,” Adrien said, and Lila rolled her eyes.

“And yet every time I mess with her, you do nothing,” she said, returning the jacket to the rack. “You could end this whole charade right now by telling Clara you didn’t really invite me, but you’re not going to do that, are you? Because that wouldn’t be very nice.”

“I mean it, Lila. You’re messing with Marinette’s dreams, and that’s not okay.” She examined his stern expression with amusement.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” She asked, and Adrien held her expression for a long moment before stalking off.

Marinette was finishing her second outfit when Adrien rejoined the group by the dressing room, and this time, Marinette personally handed Clara the bag. Adrien stood guard by the curtain, shooting daggers at Lila the moment she approached which only made her chuckle under her breath. He wasn’t taking any chances. Lila wasn’t going to ruin Marinette’s dreams. He’d see to it.

When Clara emerged, she skipped onto the platform and gave a twirl. “Now this is a party outfit that’ll make me dance! I’m so glad I gave you a second chance.”

“You look awesome, Clara. Marinette is super talented when her actual picks don’t get switched around,” Adrien said pointedly.

“I couldn’t agree more. This outfit is one I simply adore!” Clara said, stepping down to take Marinette’s hands. “Your style is simply the best. When it comes to fashion, there’s no contest.”

“Thank you, Clara. That means the world coming from you,” Marinette said, that spark of confidence returning to her eyes.

Lila’s jaw clenched, and Adrien high-fived Marinette. For added insult, he draped an arm over her shoulders as Clara tried on Lila’s outfit. It didn’t matter what Lila had picked; she was no match for Marinette when they were competing honestly.

“Hmm,” Clara hummed, twisting in the mirrors to see the dress from all angles. “A lovely choice, don’t get me wrong, but this outfit just isn’t my song. Your first choice was far more on the nose, and I’ve got to be honest, these shoes are hurting my toes.”

“That’s okay. Marinette is incredibly talented. The only reason I won the first round was because of that mix-up. I’m sure she’s got something amazing up her sleeve for this next round too,” Lila said, curling her shoulders in the fakest show of humility Adrien had ever seen.

“Then let’s not waste any more time. I can’t wait to try on an outfit so divine. Tonight I will be Nadja’s TV guest, so let’s see which one of you is really the best!”

---

As Marinette took off, Adrien shot Lila a warning look before following after her. It was cute that he thought he could intimidate her into being nice, but Lila had direct orders. Things were going exactly as planned, and those two idiots were falling right into her trap. Soon Marinette’s aspirations would be nothing more than a pipe dream.

When Nathalie emerged from the back with a garment bag, Lila sauntered over to meet her. “Is this my dress?”

Nathalie responded by offering Lila her phone, and Lila pressed it to her ear.

“Nathalie tells me everything is going according to plan,” Gabriel said on the other line.

“Of course, Mr. Agreste. Marinette thinks she’s getting ahead, but with your help I’ll make sure her dreams are crushed for good. Then she’ll be sure to stay away from Adrien,” she said like a dutiful student.

“Good. I’m counting on you,” Gabriel said before hanging up, and Lila lifted the bag with a smirk.

Marinette chose the wrong opponent to challenge, and Lila was about to prove that she didn’t lie about everything. She really was going to take everything from Marinette. Clara was just step one.

---

“I still don’t trust Lila,” Adrien whispered while Marinette browsed the wall of shoes.

“Don’t worry about her. We’re onto her little game now, so it’s impossible for her to steal my outfit again, and we both know Clara prefers my picks to hers now without a doubt,” Marinette said, sounding confident, and under normal circumstances, Adrien would have been proud. Lila, however, was not normal circumstances.

“I know you’re better than her, but I just have a bad feeling. I don’t trust her,” Adrien said, glancing at Lila in accessories out of the corner of his eye.

Marinette zipped her bag up then turned to look him in the eye. “I’m not asking you to trust her. I’m asking you to believe in me.”

Her bright blue eyes glowed with determination, and although he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his gut, he nodded her on. Marinette was brilliant and amazing—Adrien knew that quite well. She had a bright future ahead of her so long as nothing got in her way, and one thing was certain: if Lila even tried, Adrien would never forgive her.

“Alright, chickadees, let’s see what you’ve got for me,” Clara said, bouncing in anticipation.

Marinette didn’t spare Lila a single glance as she paced over to Clara, but Adrien hung back to make sure she behaved. Lila seemed to all but ignore him until the last moment when she shot him a playful wink that sent his blood boiling.

“Oh, Clara, since I know Marinette is probably going to win, will you try on my outfit first?” Lila requested innocently. “Naturally, mine will pale in comparison, so I want you to give it a fair shot.”

“Lila, that’s quite the humble stance. I’d be more than happy to give yours a chance.”

Adrien instinctively bristled when Lila passed off her bag. What was she up to? His stomach churned in knots, and he stepped closer to Marinette, gleaning comfort from close proximity as if he could protect her from whatever scheme Lila was trying to pull.

When Clara emerged again, every jaw in the room dropped, and Adrien’s mind whirled with a thousand thoughts at once. That dress wasn’t part of the normal collection—it was one of a kind. Adrien had overheard his father and Nathalie talking about it a few days prior. He wasn’t entirely sure how Lila got her hands on it, but it wasn’t by accident.

“This dress is so…so…” Clara gasped, abandoning her riddles and rhymes as she stared in awe.

Lila beamed, clasping her hands behind her back. “I really wanted to impress you this round, so I asked the staff if they hand anything special in the back. I truly care about your style, Clara, and I wanted to prove that to you.”

“Your attention to detail and willingness to go the extra mile certainly make you standout, Lila. I’d love for you to be my new style consultant,” Clara said, clasping her hands together over her heart.

Adrien’s heart snapped when he turned to Marinette, her once confident demeanor now shriveled in defeat. Lila caught his gaze, tilting her chin up with a smirk. I win. She seemed to gloat, and Adrien’s hands clenched into fists.

“Clara, I know this dress is beautiful, and I’m not entirely sure how Lila found it,” he started, shooting her a quick glare. “But designing is Marinette’s true passion, and in my professional opinion, I think she would make an amazing personal stylist.”

“It’s fine.” The voice was Marinette’s, and she turned to Lila with a small smile. “I’m really happy for you, and I know you’ll do an amazing job.”

She held her head high and threw on a smile despite the anger and humiliation she must be feeling. They were committed to being kind to Lila in front of everyone, but Adrien didn’t care about that now. Lila had taken something from someone who deserved it, and more importantly, she’d done it to someone Adrien cared about. If Lila was going to ignore his warnings, then he’d have to repeat them a little louder.

“Clara, why don’t you try on Marinette’s pick just for fun. She worked really hard picking it out,” Adrien suggested.

“While my search has come to an end, I’d be more than happy to wear something picked by a friend,” Clara said, brushing Marinette’s nose with her finger before climbing back into the changing booth.

Adrien marched over to Gorilla, yanking his collar down to whisper in his ear. Lila was going to learn the price of hurting people precious to him. He didn’t care if it wasn’t nice. Lila wasn’t a nice person, so just this once, he wasn’t going to be either.

With everyone focused on Clara, no one noticed when Gorilla clamped a hand over Lila’s mouth and carried her to the back. A single employee followed, opening the door to the private bathroom as Gorilla tossed her in.

“What do you think you’re-” Lila’s voice trailed off when Adrien approached, hands shoved in his pockets. “Is this the part where you try and intimidate me? It’s not going to work. I know your little niceness scheme is all an act, and I’m about to leave you both in the dust.”

“Maybe,” Adrien said, leaning against the doorframe with a shrug. “But you seem to have forgotten where you are. Did you really think you had the advantage in a shop named Agreste? In case you didn’t realize, everyone here works for me.”

“You’re too late. I’ve already won,” Lila shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Clara picked me, and Marinette will never make it as a designer.”

“Marinette is going to be just fine. I’ll see to that,” he said. “Clara respects my opinion, so she’ll listen to me.”

“And why would you convince her to pick Marinette over me? Doesn’t that contradict your whole plan to nice me into compliance?” Lila asked with a smirk. “As soon as we go back out there, Clara will still have picked me, so this whole conversation is pointless.”

“Who said you’ll be going back out there?” Adrien quirked a brow. He stepped away from the door, and an employee stepped in to lock it from the outside.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Lila beat against it, furiously tugging the handle.

“It’s such a shame you’re so busy, Lila. Clara will be disappointed to hear that you’re too busy volunteering to clean public restrooms to devote time to being her personal stylist. I’ll be sure to send Marinette your best,” he called from the other side. “Don’t worry. Someone will let you out after we leave.”

“Adrien! Let me out!” Lila screeched, but he was already walking away.

Clara was admiring Marinette’s outfit in the mirror when he returned to the dressing area, and he draped an arm over Clara’s shoulders. “Marinette did an amazing job, don’t you think, Clara?” He asked, shooting her a wink.

“It’s true that Marinette has good taste. Not picking her would be a waste…” Clara hummed, tapping her chin. “But Lila’s pick is still on my mind. A dress like that deserves to shine.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped, and Adrien pursed his lips. “I know you picked Lila, but I think you should reconsider.”

“Where is Lila anyway?” Marinette glanced around, and Adrien bit back a smirk.

“Oh, uh, you see, Clara, Lila has a very busy schedule. Her parents are ambassadors, so she is always traveling. She pulled me aside while you were changing and expressed worry over being able to devote the time to being your stylist,” Adrien explained smoothly. “She was absolutely thrilled that you wanted her for the opportunity, but she just has so much on her plate right now.”

“I see. Well, that’s a real pity,” Clara said, and Marinette eyed him curiously as Alya burst into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, doubling over to catch her breath.

Adrien stepped down to retrieve the pink sketchbook tucked under her arm. “Designing is Marinette’s true passion, and while she is good at pairing other people’s designs, creating her own is where Marinette really shines.” He offered Clara the sketchbook and nudged Marinette forward. “I know you had your heart set, but Marinette is incredible if you just give her a chance.”

“Wow, Marinette, your skills are certainly plain to see,” Clara said, admiring her sketches. “So, what do you say? Will you design clothes for me?”

“I- Yes! I would absolutely love to! Thank you, Clara,” Marinette gaped, and Clara took her hands.

“The pleasure is all mine. Your designs are so divine! This deal is all set. I’m so happy that it’s you, Marinette,” Clara said, giving her hands a squeeze.

“What’s happening?” Alya asked, quirking a brow, and Adrien smiled.

“Marinette just became Clara Nightingale’s personal stylist.”

[mellointheory]

Metal Elephant, Carried By Mice

The rain transformed the city.

Most people stayed inside, unwilling to venture out into the downpour. This city had been pouring toxins into the sky for decades, and the rain was a palpable sign of it. Acid burns from prolonged exposure were common, and were part of the reason tattoos and metallic skin implants were common. Normal people went inside when it rained.

It was freaks like Sam who stayed outside.

The rain pattered on slick, dark streets, capturing the reflections of neon lights and twisting them across puddles in the ground. Drops soaked into Sam’s vest, darkening the already stained yellow fabric, and dripped into his eyes as he made his way through the streets. A small gang of figures wearing rain resistant hoods were gathered in the mouth of an alleyway he passed, passing around a small pipe of something. It glowed bright green in the darkness. They noticed him pass, but didn’t move to stop him. There was an unspoken agreement between them, fools of the streets who dared to wander in the rain.

In the broad daylight he have gotten far more of a reaction—a seven foot tall hybrid walking the streets was hardly ever viewed as an acceptable sight, especially not one of Sam’s type—but he was in his element right now, the time designated for people like him. The hybrids, the assassins, the gamblers, the belly of the underground. The people who decided when the wars went down.

Hypixel City’s less reputable areas were split up among the various gangs powerful enough to take control. It was all about where the prices were higher, where the water was cleaner, where the toxins were least dangerous. Of those three only price really made a difference to Sam, but he chose his side anyway. He never got directly involved in the wars, that was too dangerous for everyone present, but he protected their area in his own way. Alarms, traps, security cameras, the works. He had been expecting this to happen ever since the rain first started, and he’d asked the others to be on the alert.

Boomer and Hannah were at the break site when he got there. The chain link fence between two areas had been cut open, leaving an area big enough for even someone Sam’s size to slip through. Both of the racers were arguing loudly, voices audible over the rain as Sam approached them.

“Sam!” Hannah called as he came over, whipping towards him and cutting Boomer off in the middle of his sentence. She had her helmet on, but it was easy to identify her by the glowing rose tattoos on her bare arms. “Where did they go from here?”

“I don’t know, they knocked out the cameras.” Sam opened his communicator to the channel the entire squad shared. Rain spattered on the screen and he wiped it away to read the messages sent most recently. “Punz went north to look for them, Ant and Gumi went west.”

“They’re not dumb enough to go south.” Boomer took off his helmet and tucked it under his arm, milky-blue eyes narrowed. “I mean, Bad’s place down there.”

“What’s he gonna do, serve them a muffin?” Hannah rolled her eyes, pulling her bike from where it leaned against the fence and kicking the stand up. It was a sleek, dark thing held together by magnetism mostly, with glowing pink lights on the tailpipe and the front and peace and love sprayprainted across the side. Sam had built most of it for her, as a favor for helping out at the plant.

“Come on, Bad’s more dangerous than that.” Boomer raised the pitch of his voice to a gratingly high octave. “oh, hello, are you Skeppy? You’re not Skeppy! Time to die, muffin head!” His voice returned to its normal bass rumble. “Then boom, they’re dead.”

“Bad has enough of a reputation to keep them out of his bar, but Ant’s sanctuary is past that. They may just have avoided him to try to hit in a place where it’ll hurt.” Sam tapped his communicator, pulling up camera footage from near the southern side of their territory.

“Do you want us to head down there and guard it?” The tattooed roses on Hannah’s arms shone luminous pink in the dark, twisting as she stretched them up over her head.

“That would be the best plan.” Sam nodded, flicking through camera views. “They know our territory better than they should. I’ll keep checking the cameras, you two patrol the area by Ant’s sanctuary.”

“Got it, big man.” Boomer swung one leg over the seat of his bike. It was bulkier than Hannah’s—Sam had helped him put it together years ago—and shone silver despite the grime of the streets. He revved the motor, green light flaring up from the tailpipe, and took off with the splash of water beneath him. The lights left a visible trail in the air, caught on the mist of falling rain. Hannah’s bike darted after him, catching up within a few seconds.

Sam returned his attention to his communicator.

What if they’re baiting us out or something? Gumi had messaged in the past few seconds.

Baiting us away from what? Sam typed back.

Maybe they want a hostage. Antfrost sent. They’re rats enough for that.

The most available hostage is that DUNDERHEAD Skeppy >:[ Red replied.

If they take Skeppy I’ll destroy them Bad typed quickly. Typical. He had been offline for most of the evening, serving the customers in his bar, then as soon as Skeppy was suggested to be in danger he jumped into the chat.

Yeah, like you destroyed his asshole last night. Red sent. Sam sighed and shut his eyes.

Focus. He told them. Boomer and Hannah are going to check around the sanctuary. Gumi and Ant, I’m assuming you haven’t seen anything.

There was a nope, from Ant and a negative, Samuelson from Gumi

Punz, what about you? Sam asked.

No reply.

Dammit, he shouldn’t have let Punz go out alone. If Punz saw them he would probably just move in immediately, try to injure the intruders and slow them before he even called in with info.

Punz you WHORE give us an update!!! Gumi sent.

Sam groaned and put his communicator in his pocket. He bent to inspect the severed wires of the fence. It was a divider between the Pummel Squad’s territory and that of the NeoSkars. The wires were cut cleanly, not with clippers, but seared straight through. They had actual gear to infiltrate with. The size of the hole they’d needed to make also hinted that they had a few hybrids on their own side, or at least heavily modded humans.

They could take care of the intruders eventually. He knew the squad well, trusted them to handle themselves in a fight—well, most of them. The problem was what they would do while in Pummel territory. If they managed to make a hit at something that belonged to a member of the crew—like Ant’s sanctuary or Red’s enhancement dealership—they would deal a blow to both the gang’s reputation, and the members themselves. Ant would be heartbroken if any of his animals died. They were all strange creatures, chimeras created for the enjoyment of rich patrons, that were eventually decided to no longer be novelties and tossed out on the streets. Ant was probably the only person keeping abandoned creatures like them from dying on the roadside.

Boomer and Hannah would keep the sanctuary safe. They may argue and scream about it, but they would do it. Sam’s greatest worry at the moment was whatever was happening in Punz’s area. Everyone else was grouped up, had a buddy to keep them safe. Punz was being too reckless.

As always.

All Sam could hope was that it wasn't too bad this time.

[starry-nights12]

Iroh II Hcs

I decide to make a few hcs post of my steambabies! @a-hams-art also helped with some of these!❤❤

This post will be updated with links whenever I finished the other ones:

• Even though they're twins he still teasing Kya by saying that he's the 'oldest' since he was born first.

• His first words were "Mama!" and he touched her cheeks.

Katara squealed. "Did you hear that,Zuko?! He said my name! He said my name!"She gushed.

"Mama!"He repeated,smiling at his mother.

Katara squealed again then kissed his cheek.

"That's great,Katara!"Zuko smiled,happy for his wife.

"Kya,how about you? Can you say daddy? Say daddy!"

Kya little hand grabbed his long hair then brought it to her mouth.

"Kya,we've been over this."He chuckled,taking it out her hand.

•Zuko would wake up and toddler Iroh standing in his crib looking and babbled at him.

"Hi,buddy."Zuko whispered,he smiled as he picked him up then kissed his forehead.

•Little Iroh would burst into their room,

"Good morning dad!"Iroh exclaimed.

"Shhhh!" Zuko hushed,glancing at Katara.

"Whoops! Good morning,dad!" He whispered.

"Good morning,Iroh."Zuko smiled. He kissed her cheek then stood up and stretched.

"Come on,Iroh. I'll make you breakfast."

Iroh was about to follow him out but stopped to turn around and run towards their bed. He kissed Katara's nose and patted her head.

Katara peeked one eye opened. "Mornin' baby."She mumbled with a tired smile.

"Hi,mama!"Iroh beamed.

-Two minutes of silence-

"Okay!Bye mama!"He said before running out.

"Bye."She chuckled softly before going back to sleep.

•Teen Iroh would sit out in the garden where they would meet and have tea together while Katara and Kya were asleep.

•Iroh(8,9)being sick in bed because he thought suprising his parents while bending in a downpour was a good idea.

"I told you this was stuipd."

"Nuh-uh! You're stupid!"

"I wasn't the one that got sick,dummy."

Iroh glared at her and kept eye contact as he coughed in his hand then wiped it on her cheek.

Kya screamed."Mom! Dad! Iroh gave me his germs!"She shouted,running out his room.

Katara quickly entered his room holding a tray of tea for him."Iroh!?" She scolded.

"It wasn't me! I'm asleep!"

Then fell back on his bed and snored loudly.

•Before he was 10 and found out he's a waterbender,

Katara and Zuko assured him that if he was a non-bender that they love him regardless and will always be proud of him.

• He's good at playing pai sho.

• He got the mark of the wise during ice dodging.

• He tends to honor more water tribe traditions.

(specifically; often wears water tribe styled clothing or a mix or fire nation and water tribe; has a wolf's tail instead of fire nation's top knot)

• He was like his father as a kid and wasn't good at memorizing the Fire Nation's&royal family's history.

But instead of being ashamed/embarrassed like Ozai was.

Zuko is patient and encourages him that with help and studying that Iroh II will remember it better.

• Zuko teaching him how to be a gentleman by helping his sister out the carriage.

Their usual routine is Zuko stepping out first to help his wife out the carriage.

Iroh leaves after and hold his hand out for Kya. She usually ignores it and jumps out to walk ahead but he still does it everytime.

• Zuko pulls out a chair for Katara then Iroh II does the same.

"M'lady."

Kya cringed then took the chair from him

"Don't you ever call me that again." Kya said,poking his chest before sitting down.

[brokenkingdom-forgottenempire]

Never Regret

....took me a while to finish this long ass fic. Please don’t hate me. I wanted to write prequel fic for ‘Off Night’ and I didnt expect I’d spend days trying to make this fic....readable? 

WARNING: LONG FIC. POOR ATTEMPT OF SEXY TIME. AND MAYBE AWKWARD. Human flesh as plates. Drew does the sucking around here. Roman can just relax. Some errors. Uhhhh.....some cbt .. idk. Dont look at me. I kept on seeing gif of Drew low blowing Roman, alright? 

Okay, so here is my second attempt on trying to write sexy scene for McReigns! husbands vers au.

(08/12/20)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was raining all day. Grey skies since 8am. It was only 4pm now but the dark clouds made it looked like it was already late evening. A bit of lighting once in a while but it was not a compete downpour. It had been raining a lot lately, and Drew did not really enjoy it. He would go out to work and come back soaking wet. He hated it. 

Roman liked the rain. It was calming for him. He could rest his mind, the sound of low grumbling thunder somehow made him relax. He could stay in bed all day, snuggle with his husband, take a nap. The two of them a completely opposite about the weather but that was why they were so deep in love with one another.

Drew went out that afternoon to buy some groceries. Roman wanted to go along to accompany the other man but Drew insisted the Samoan to just stay at home. He did not want Roman to get sick again. He noticed how Roman could easily get sick lately too. It’s probably caused by the weather, Drew thought.

“Don’t forget to buy some desserts, babe,” Roman called out from the kitchen before Drew stepped out of the house. Drew just replied back ‘OK’ and walked out, dressed in just black t-shirt, jeans and raincoat. It was windy outside, he knew the umbrella would not help much in this situation but he brought it with him anyway.

A hour or so later, as expected, Drew came back with the needed things and food. Soaking wet head to toe. Roman was sitting comfortable in their couch in the living room. Knees tucked close to his chest, hair neatly tied into a bun, reading glasses on, he had his phone in hand, probably checking for updates on his social media account again. The Samoan lifted his head up when he heard the front door was opened, and failed to hide his smile when he saw a soaked, grumpy Drew. 

“Yea, laugh all you want. I’m fucking freezing and you didn’t even bother to help me grab a towel,” the Scottish man grunted as he placed the grocery bags on the floor. He tossed his ruined shoes at the side, grumbling how much he hated life sometimes especially when it had to put him in this kind of situation. Roman just shook his head, got up and handed his husband a towel he had prepared earlier. Drew just stared at Roman as he did. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t prepare anything for my own husband who sacrificed himself to go out and buy me food in this crazy weather? I’m hurt, Drew,” despite the last sentence, a warm smile graced Roman’s beautiful face. Drew did not reply and just moved his face closer to Roman’s to give the older man a quick kiss on the lips. A thank you. Drew did not say it, but Roman knew. 

“What did you get me for desserts?” Roman bent down to pick up the bags. 

“Ice cream, some cakes, chocolate and strawberry syrups just incase you want them on your ice cream. Also I bought this pie from the bakery you loved so much. The lady behind the cash register said hi,” Drew shamelessly stripped down in front of the door. He did not want to step on the carpet. Roman would kill him. Once he was completely naked, he wrapped the towel around his waist and looked up to see Roman staring at him. “What? Something’s on my face?” Drew reached up to wipe his face. 

“You silly, sexy, handsome brute,” Roman chuckled and slightly tiptoed to kiss Drew on his cheek. “Thank you for the cakes and pie,”. The Scottish man huffed, his large hand came down to rest on Roman’s ass and could not resist giving it a squeeze. The shorter man gasped at the sudden action but laughed as he slowly pulled away to prepare their dinner.

“Shower and dress warmly, dinner will be ready by then,” Roman was back inside the kitchen and Drew still had a smile on his face as he walked towards their room to do what Roman told him to. 

20 minutes later, Drew reemerged. He wore a navy blue t-shirt, slightly loose on him and grey sweatpants. He was not sure if the sweats were his or Roman’s but since when did he care. Roman had prepared the food, and they ate in peace, randomly talked about their work and friends’ updates. Once dinner was done, Drew helped out with the cleaning. 

Roman told Drew to wait in the living room as he took the desserts out of the fridge. Drew complied and waited patiently on the couch. The TV was on, and Drew just lazily flipped through the channels, nothing attracted him so far. When Roman came back with desserts, Drew dropped the remote as he looked at his husband. Roman just casually walked around inside their home with nothing but an apron. With lace. What the fuck. When did he change?!

“Oh, I forgot the plates,” Roman was about to get up to get some utensils but Drew’s sudden grip around the older man’s wrist managed to stop him. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Roman?” Drew’s voice became huskier than before. The Samoan had some guts to look down at him with his innocent, confused eyes. Drew did not wait for Roman’s replies as he yanked his smaller husband down, and Roman landed on top of Drew. Their positions forced Roman to straddle Drew’s thighs with the Scottish man’s hand rested on both sides of Roman’s hips. The tattooed man chuckled and bit his lower lip, his fingers playfully danced on Drew’s chest.

“Do you like it? Seth told me to get one. I got it months ago but I didn’t know when to wear. It’s a bit too small, I think, should’ve gotten a bigger size,” Roman looked down at his black with white lace apron he had gotten on the internet. He ordered L for size but it was meant for ladies, and he was a 260 pounds Samoan with muscles and tattoos. Some kind of maid kink whatever it was stated on the description. Seth mentioned something about it and though he did not really need it to seduce his husband, he wanted to try something new.

Drew’s silence made Roman looked back up to the man he currently straddled. Drew’s blue eyes seemed slightly darker than before. It got him worried, maybe Drew did not really like this kind of thing? Roman gulped and tried to move away but Drew’s strong hands held him in place. “Drew?” Roman’s soft voice did it for him. The Scottish man placed a hand on Roman’s nape and pulled him down for a deep kiss. The older man’s moan were muffled, his hands gripping Drew’s loose t-shirt. 

“You fucking tease. You’re going to regret this,” Drew breathed out before he claimed his husband’s lips once again. “I’m going to tear that ass, and I don’t want you hear you whining about it being sore tomorrow, or I’m going to tie you up for some spankings. Do you understand?” Both of his hands were back on Roman’s ass this time, squeezing and parting the cheeks a part, causing the other man to whimper. His teeth left marks on Roman’s neck. The Samoan could not say anything but a simple ‘Yes, sir,’. 

Drew lifted his smaller husband and gently laid him down on his back on the couch. He ordered Roman to stay still as he moved to grab something from the kitchen, and then came back with a can of whipped cream. Oh God, Roman thought to himself. 

“Drew, wait, are you-” Roman tried to sit up but Drew was quick to push him down again. The Scottish man’s hand moved down and gave Roman’s teat a pinch. His husband yelped in shock. 

“Did I tell you to move, Roman?” Drew’s deep voice forced him to strop struggling and just laid still on his back. “And just for trying to stop me, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or me. If you do, I’m getting the handcuffs out,” Drew did not wait for Roman to say anything as he ripped (not really, he just aggressively peeled off the velcro straps of the apron) the only fabric on his husband’s torso off, and dove down to attack Roman’s smooth chest. He bit and tug at Roman’s nipples drawing more whines and cries from the man below him. Drew grabbed the can of whipped cream and Roman could do nothing but watched as his Scottish lover sprayed out some cream on his chest then licking it cleaned. The whipped cream was cold on his heated skin. Drew continued to spray some more cream on his husband but now focusing on the hardened nubs. 

“Ah, Drew!” Drew bit down harshly on Roman’s nipple that was surrounded by the sea of ink on his chest as he cleaned the cream off the Samoan. It felt good. So good, Roman thought he could come just with Drew messing around with his sensitive nipples. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, Ro,” The Scottish man pulled back and wiped his mouth. Roman did not dare to move as his eyes followed his husband’s movement. Drew grabbed one of the cakes Roman had placed on the coffee table earlier before carefully placing the dessert on Roman’s belly. Drew knew how insecure Roman was when it came to his physique especially his abdomen area. While Roman did not mind Drew squeezing and groping his thick ass, he did not really like it when his Scottish husband paid too much attention to his ‘fat stomach’ (as Roman called it). Drew obviously hated it whenever Roman tried to push him away because of it. The Samoan was clearly blind if he did not notice how much Drew loved every part, every inch of his body. It was a daring move for Drew’s part but he would risk it all as long as Roman knew nothing on him was imperfect for Drew. 

The Scottish man could feel how Roman’s body stiffened the moment the cake touched his skin. Roman’s eyes darted down to Drew, silently pleading to have it removed. Drew was having none of it. Not this time. Drew moved up to kiss his husband.

“You never believed me when I told you I love every side of you. I know you still won’t believe me now even if I tell you, but Roman, I love everything about you. Your beautiful face, you ass, those killer thighs, your so-called fat tummy. Whatever bullshit you’ve been telling yourself for years, I’m ending it tonight,” Roman’s eyes turned glassy as he let his husband kissed him again. Roman could not find his voice so he nodded, trusting Drew to make him understand. Drew smiled down at the older man before he peeled off his loose t-shirt and sweatpants, throwing them on the floor. Then he moved back down to take a bite of the cake. Roman was trying to calm himself down as he watched his husband having his dessert using his belly as the plate. Drew smirked when he realized Roman would not struggle, he licked his lips once before he marked Roman’s skin with his teeth. 

“I love this so much,” Drew continued to bite and suckle the skin around his husband’s middle. “Such beautiful body, only for me to enjoy. No one else can have this. No one else can taste it. Only me,”. The Scottish man began to tease the bellybutton, licking down the navel and then came dangerously close to Roman’s hard on. Roman grunted when he felt Drew bit down on his skin again. The Samoan knew he was not allowed to hold Drew yet so his fingers had turned white from gripping the fabric of the couch hard. He bit his lower lip to stop himself from moaning too loudly as Drew continued to mark around his middle. He wanted to cry out whenever Drew bit his skin a little too hard but Drew seemed to acknowledge Roman’s movement and he would kiss the reddening skin as a silent apology. 

Drew sat back once he was satisfied. He took the cake off Roman and brought it up to his husband’s lips. Roman did not immediately accept the offer and looked up to Drew, waiting for permission. “Open up, baby,” Drew ordered softly. Roman complied. The Samoan opened his mouth and let Drew fed him. Once he finished the dessert, he continued to lick Drew’s fingers. The Scottish man did not hesitate to push his fingers inside his husband’s mouth, letting Roman licked the icing and cream away. 

As Roman was busy suckling on his fingers, Drew moved his free hand down to tap at the older man’s puckered hole. Roman whimpered in need and began to spread his legs apart further. Drew moved to settle between his husband’s thighs without removing his hand from Roman’s mouth. 

“Someone is already wet for daddy,” beads of cum began to leak out of Roman’s pisshole. Drew teasingly gave the head a squeezed and watched as the precum flowed out, dripping on Roman’s stomach. He laughed when Roman suddenly bucked his hips, needing more from his lover. His muffled whines and pleads were ignored as Drew began to use the fluid as lube. He scooped some precum using his fingers before he circled Roman’s hole again. 

“Drew, please,” Roman gasped out as he felt his husband’s finger tip teasingly pushing in. Drew did not even lift his head to look at the other man as he continued to slowly push through the muscle ring. 

“Ahh, fuck!” cried the Samoan when Drew suddenly pushed his middle finger in deep, his knuckle was resting against Roman’s spasming hole. The younger man did not stop as he began to move his hand, finger fucking his husband in several times before adding another finger to spread his husband’s needy hole further, drawing louder moan from Roman. 

“Please, please, please, please,” was all Roman could mutter. His own fingers dug into the couch, trying to strain himself. Hips bucking every time Drew mercilessly rammed his fingers in. 

“Please what, Ro?” Drew’s other hand reached up and grabbed a handful of Roman’s hair, yanking the Samoan’s head back, exposing his marked neck. Roman winced from the pain and pleasure that Drew gave him at once. When Roman did not answer fast enough, Drew slid his fingers out of his husband’s hole causing the older man to whine in frustration.

“Nooo...please, daddy.....put it back in. Please fuck me. Please wreck me open,” Roman panted out. Drew was still holding him down by his long locks. The Scottish man smirked evilly. Using his free hand, he flicked Roman’s balls, causing the man to yelp in surprise. “No, please, don’t,” The Samoan tried to move his hip away from the assault. Wrong move. Roman cried out when Drew tugged his hair back harder this time. 

“Did you just try to run away from me, Roman?” It was not really a question so Drew did not wait for replies. He gave the balls some gentle taps before flicking them again, eliciting more cries from his husband. Roman tried to close his legs but Drew would just order him to spread them out again. 

The Scottish continued to mercilessly punish his husband’s balls. From gentle slaps, to flicking, to taps and some hard slaps, even a pinch or two. Roman’s thighs were trembling. His breathing was uneven as he surrendered his lower half to his lover. Tears trailed down the sides of his face. Drew delivered one last slap at the sore balls and he watched as Roman’s eyes rolled, mouth hung open, fingers turned white as he held onto the couch for his dear life, hips lifted slightly, toes curled in, and his dick spurted out ropes of cum, creating big mess on his own abs and chest. Drew was loving every second of it. His husband’s dick twitched and spurted more white fluid as Drew’s fingers lightly stroked the spent organ. 

“Fuuuuuucckkkkk,” Roman moaned loudly when Drew tapped his pisshole with his finger and gave the sore head a swipe. The Samoan was super sensitive to touches now but knowing his husband he knew Drew was not going to stop yet, and he hated when he was right. Roman’s chest was heaving and trembling as he tried to catch his breath from the orgasm. Drew had released his hair after he came the second time. Roman watched through hooded eyes as his Scottish lover bent down to take the spent cock into his mouth, giving it a gentle suck but it was enough for Roman to arch his back, crying out ‘Stop!’ when Drew began to graze his teeth along the twitching organ. “No more. Please, no more, daddy, it’s too much,” he winced out.

Drew thought he had punished his husband enough that night so he let go. The Scottish then moved up to once again kiss his husband deeply on the lips. Drew pushed some hair off his husband’s sweaty forehead before he planted a kiss. 

“I’m not done with you yet, Roman,” The said man’s eyes grew wide as he stared back at his husband. Before he could protest, Drew flipped him on his front this time. The taller man stood up, grabbed both of Roman’s arms and held it on his back. Drew bent down to pick up the apron that Roman had dropped earlier and used the straps to tied the Samoan’s hands on his back. Drew moved their position so Roman’s ass was facing him and Roman had to bury his face between the pillows on the couch. Drew forced Roman to kneel at the edge of the cushioned seats and present his ass up. Drew kneeled so his face would be at the same height as Roman’s ass, he grabbed both of the cheeks and spread them apart to reveal the pink hole. The Scottish man did not waste time as he dove in to rim his husband’s hole this time. 

“Oh God. Oh fuck. Oh God, feels so good, daddy” Roman whimpered out. He could feel Drew’s tongue pushing in passed the ring and Roman pushed back. He was being tongue fucked by his husband. Everything just felt so intense, he got slightly lightheaded.

Drew stood back up again after he made sure Roman’s hole was relaxed enough for him. He placed his big girth against Roman’s entrance before he thrusted in balls deep. Roman’s scream was muffled by the pillows. His hips bucked and trembled from the sudden movement. “Please...be gentle with me, daddy. You’re so big,” Roman’s voice cracked as Drew began to pull out half way before slamming in again.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do. You’ll accept whatever I give to you, slut,” Drew rammed his cock harder, drawing high pitch cries from his Samoan husband. He spread the fat cheeks further and shoved in deeper. 

Roman could not stop screaming as Drew rammed at his prostate over and over again. He was about to come again. He tried to tug his hands free from the bond but he could feel his muscles began to weaken from all the fucking. Drew’s thrusts became rougher and merciless. His heavy balls slapping against Roman’s hardening boner. After several thrusts, Roman came on the couch this time. His dick spraying out cum. He was crying from the endless pleasure. 

He knew Drew was close to coming as he felt his lover’s dick grew. Drew gripped hard at Roman’s already bruised hips, balls resting against Roman’s, he grunted as he came inside his Samoan husband. Roman’s body jerked few times when his inside was flooded by streams of hot cum. Drew thrusted few more times, letting his spurting cock softened inside the warm hole. He bent down, slowly grabbed his husband’s wet face and gave him a kiss. Drew finally pulled out after few minutes, he watched as the cum leaked out, trailing down to Roman’s balls before dripping to the floor. Drew then reached down to untie his husband’s hands. Once released, Roman drew his hands closer to his chest. His eyes closing as he tried to catch his breath again. He came a lot in only few hours. 

Drew sat back down next to Roman who was still kneeling. Carefully, Drew pulled Roman up to straddle his thighs again. Roman whimpered as he thought Drew was not done with him yet, but his Scottish husband just shushed him. He pushed Roman’s head down to rest on his bare chest, strong arms holding his lover in place. 

After some silence and Roman seemed to calm down a little, Drew spoke, “Are you alright, baby? Did I hurt you too much?” Roman just shook his head. Drew gently gripped Roman’s chin to lift his face up. Romans eyes were still glassy from crying, some hair messily plastered on his forehead. “You’re in pain?” Drew asked worriedly. 

“It was a good kind of pain,” a small smiled formed on Roman’s tired face. Drew chuckled and pecked his husband’s lips. “My hands hurt though....and my balls,” Roman reached down to cup his sore organ. The sacs were slightly swollen. Drew took Roman’s hand and kissed the mark around the wrist from the apron straps he used to tie him up earlier. 

“I’d love to kiss you balls too, if you want,” Drew said playfully. Roman rolled his eyes and hit his husband’s chest.

“No, you won’t. You ruined the apron, and my ass.. No more fucking until next week,”. Now, it was Drew’s turn to whine at how cruel Roman’s decision was. The Samoan ignored him and continued to bury his face in his husband’s chest. 

“You fucked me so deep, my ass will be sore until next week. Tomorrow will be our off night, and if you dare to put your dick anywhere near me, you can spend the night on this lovely couch alone,”. Drew pouted, quietly grumbling that it was not even his fault and Roman was the one who started it. Roman giggled at his husband’s childish reaction, but he needed rest. His ass needed rest. “I need to shower, I feel disgusting from the cream and cake you put on me,” Roman slowly moved off Drew to stand, he winced as he felt Drew’s cum began to flow out more and trail down his thigh. 

“I’ll help,” Drew offered. He placed an arm around Roman’s waist and guided him to their bathroom. He helped Roman to wash his long locks, chest and hole. Roman almost smacked Drew on the head when his lover roughly shoved a finger in his super sensitive and sore hole. 

Did Roman regret his decision to tease his husband in the first place though? Never, and best believe he would do it again. Maybe he would order some more things online too.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

(you taught me) the courage of stars pt. 2

Summary: “I know what it is like, Ahsoka.” Obi-Wan tells her. “I know what it is to leave the Jedi with nothing more than the clothes on your back and the knowledge that you are doing the right thing.”

Or: Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.)

Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse (childhood, emotional, physical, mental), mind control.

Pt. 1, Pt. 3, AO3 

Nautical Twilight

The transparisteel doors to Dex’s Diner rattle in their frames when Ahsoka slaps her palms against them. The downpour thunders behind her, around her, soaking into her very bones and chilling her to her core. She can barely hear her own heartbeat over the rain. She throws most of her weight behind her next pounding strikes against the doors. Her lekku drip steadily; her eyes are still watering. Ahsoka can barely breathe--she’s been running, Force enhanced, for what feels like hours. Her lungs burn in her chest. A scream builds in her throat but she snaps her jaws shut against it. “Dex,” Ahsoka shouts instead, “Dex!”

She’s so dazed, so confused by the wind and rain and cold seeping into her skeleton that she doesn’t realize the transparisteel before her has disappeared; Ahsoka’s hand comes down only to meet air and for the second time in a single day, she stumbles, balance lost. Her heel skids in the puddle that has formed around her as she yelled, and Ahsoka reels. Stepping forward rather than throw herself backwards into the street, she only just manages to catch herself against the edge of a table.

There’s only one light on in the whole place, warm yellow glow spilling into the main dining area from the kitchen. The air is still, almost suffocating; nothing moves. Nothing breathes. For a second, her ears ringing, Ahsoka gasps, winded, in a world all her own. The Force curls unpleasantly around the edges of her mind, jerking her spine straight with fear.

Her breath heaves in her chest as Ahsoka looks up and locks eyes with a vaguely familiar Besalisk. “Help me,” she whispers, hoarse. Goosebumps stand out on her arms. Chills wrack through her.

“Sith hells, little Jedi,” Dexter Jettster says, half-shouting over the rain. The next second the doors slide closed, muffling the downpour. Sidling around the trail of puddles Ahsoka has left in her wake, Dex offers her a hand up. Panic makes her fingers tremble as the padawan takes it. One of Dex’s other hands offers her the dish towel from the man’s own shoulder. Ahsoka takes it and wipes her face; if, perhaps, she wrings a few tears out into the towel before handing it back, well, it was soiled with kitchen grease before she got her hands on it anyway.

With a great effort, Ahsoka looks up and sets her jaw. “I have to get off Coruscant.”

To his credit, Dex only gapes for a moment. Two hands rise to smooth over a wide forehead as he gestures toward the kitchen entrance. Ahsoka lets herself be herded into the kitchen, where Dex gestures for her to sit at a rough-hewn wood table in the corner. As she slide reluctantly into her seat, wet clothes sticking in uncomfortable places, Dex turns and, without missing a beat, begins rustling pots and pans around.  “Why would you come to me for that? Who are you, Jedi?”

“I am not a Jedi.” The words sting her throat.

Sharp eyes slide towards her face before flicking away. “Could’ve fooled me--wait, I know you, don’t I?” No matter the startled expression on her face, Dex steps back, looks her up and down and then snaps his fingers, four times over. “Yes, yes--you’re Kenobi’s whelp’s padawan, aren’t you? He’s shown me holos of you three!”

Ahsoka evades the question altogether. “He sent me to you--Kenobi. He said--”

She barely remembers what her grandmaster--ex-grandmaster--said in that tunnel. Her hearing has to be damaged, or her cognition going wonky, because there’s no way he just--told her where to go, how to run from the law. He did it so easily , like he’d prepared to let Ahsoka go a long time ago.

Maybe he did. Her stomach turns over. When the Besalisk offers her a plate full of warm food--how long has it been since she’s had more than war rations?--Ahsoka can barely look at it. She takes it anyway; the dishware is warm in her hands, which is enough for her. Her shivers grow stronger.

She almost doesn’t catch the concerned downturn of Dex’s lips before he turns his back. The diner owner huffs airily, moving to the sink as if he let disgraced former padawans hide in his kitchen every day. He lets the silence creep in on them until Ahsoka can barely stand it before speaking over his shoulder to her.

“Oh, well, if Kenobi sent you, that’s fine then. Force knows I owe him one for helping me get out of a scrape or two. It’s only right I do the same for him and his when the time comes. Speaking of which, he left some things--” Dex breaks off and scurries into a back room. Around Dex's broad frame, Ahsoka glimpses an office, folders and files piled up on a dingy desk, cabinets filled to bursting with flimsiplasts of varying sizes. Dex picks his way between the stacks, perfectly at home, and returns holding a file above his head in triumph. Ahsoka nearly jumps out of her skin when he slaps them down in front of her. “Here we are!”

Tentative, Ahsoka opens the files--only to be confronted with her own face. Through the mind numbing confusion, she realizes it’s a Coruscant identification form; one that the Jedi Temple never issued to her. There isn’t any mention of the Temple anywhere on the document as she scans it.  Ahsoka flips through the pages only to find another I.D., this one for Naboo--and one for a planet she faintly remembers from her navigation classes, Gala, and one for a place she’s never heard of, Melidaan--there’s even one for the Mandalorian sector, although that one has the most travel restrictions than any of the others.

These documents would allow her to travel almost all over the Inner Rim, and to quite a few places in the Outer Rim to boot. Ahsoka rifles through the papers faster, something great and terrible building in her chest. The dates go back years--almost all the way up to the exact date she was assigned to Skyguy.

“What is this?”

“Obi-Wan asked me to make them for you. Skywalker’s are in there too; I had to update his more often, of course, because he’s been with Obi-Wan longer.” Dex gives an awkward little laugh and points to the section that does indeed reveal itself to hold documents with Skyguy’s name on them. “Kenobi sent me some pretty cute kid pictures of your Master if you want to see.”

Ahsoka very much does not want to see.

“Why--why do you have these? Why did Master Obi-Wan ask for these?” She doesn’t realize her grip has tightened on the flimsis until Dex gingerly pulls them from her hands. He smooths them out against the surface of the table before looking up into her eyes. Ahsoka swallows at his deadened expression.

“Something happened to you.” Dex says lowly. “Something that took you away from the Temple, from the Jedi. You aren’t going back. Yes?”

Mute, Ahsoka nods. That terrible thing inside of her screams and it makes her limbs tremble. The Force swirls and rises around her, her own personal storm.

Dex, too, nods. He slides her papers back to her and this time, Ahsoka handles them softly. They may be the final gift she ever receives from her grandmaster. “That’s what these are for. They’re your safety net; a way for you to go on without the Jedi. That’s why Obi-Wan asked for them, and why he sent you to me for them tonight.”

The words almost tumbling out of her mouth without permission, Ahsoka blurts, “He said he knew what it was like to leave the Jedi.”

Dex says nothing, shrugs when she eyes him across the table. He and Obi-Wan are close enough that he asked Dex to do this, that he sent Ahsoka to Dex when he knew she had nowhere left to turn--what does Dex know about Obi-Wan that she doesn’t? That Skyguy doesn’t?

I trusted Master Obi-Wan because he never  seemed like he had anything to hide, Ahsoka thinks foggily. How wrong have I really been?

Ahsoka’s throat closes. When it’s obvious she won’t get a straight answer, Dex sighs and rubs his forehead again. He leans back to survey her, chair groaning beneath his weight. “Kenobi’s pretty tight-lipped about it, kid, but he’s been through a lot. I would know; it’s how we met. He’s Jedi through and through, but the man knows there’s more to life than his Order. He knows that bantha fodder happens even to the best of people. He wanted to make sure that if there were ever a reason for you or his padawan to leave the Jedi, that you would be taken care of.”

“I--I didn’t know.” Ahsoka’s vision blurs yet again; the colors of her own holo on the top document--a travel identification card for Alderaan--smear before her eyes. “I didn’t know--what happened?”

Did Obi-Wan really not reject her only hours before? Did he really know how she felt at this moment, the devastation saturating the very marrow in her bones?

But if he did, why hadn’t he helped Ahsoka when he could have? Why hadn't he stopped all of this from happening to her?

“That’s not my story to tell.” Dex stands, and pushes her plate of food, now grown cold, to her elbow. “Eat, read, take a minute to yourself. And when you’re ready, I’ll have a place on a ship headed off planet ready for you. Do you know where you want to go?”

At her shake of the head, Dex hums. But then she remembers something, and digs in her pocket. She hopes the datachip wasn’t corrupted by all the rain. It seems mostly dry when she finally locates it and sets it out on the table with a small click. “Obi-Wan gave me this--said I could use it to find a safe place to go.”

Dex hums again and shuffles back towards his office. “Think I’ve got an old datapad you can use somewhere…”

An hour later Ahsoka huddles in the hold of a cargo ship with a borrowed cloak pulled over her head, a borrowed datapad on her knees and a decrypted list of unfamiliar names and locations in her possession. Obi-Wan’s gifted papers allowed her travel without a hitch, but she’d spied some Coruscant Guards on her way in, and Dex’s parting words ring in her head still.

“Be careful, little Jedi. Caution rules above all else in the underworld, and for now, you’re stuck down here with the rest of us.”

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 6 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! it took me a while but here's a new update I hope you enjoy it! thank you for reading it! <3

-6-

“I can’t do this anymore,” Jan complained.

Jackie lifted her gaze from the book she was reading.

“This is the third time you say that… algebra can’t possibly be that bad.”

“For your consideration, there aren’t even numbers on these exercises, it’s Math… there should be numbers… where are the numbers?” She whined.

“Don’t look at me, why do you think I chose Art History? After high school, I promised myself my relationship with calculus was over.”

Jan sighed but focused on the assignment once again.

“Okay… I’m done… that was the last exercise of the sheet. I refuse to keep using my brain for what’s left of the day.”

Jackie chuckled.

They were alone in the copy room. It had been one of those quiet days; it was raining outside so Jan’s practice had been canceled but luckily her friend enjoyed her company while she did homework as well. In the past two hours, only a lost student walked in begging for a copy of a study guide for a mid-term for the following day. Jackie had the radio on and she had let the younger chose the station, Jan had picked a bubblegum pop radio that kept playing songs from the ’00s and the 10’s –to which she had found Jackie mumbling the lyrics a couple of times.

As much as she hated to miss her practice, she had to admit it was the first time in two weeks she had a moment to breathe. With her responsibilities and new hobby involved, she barely had time to take a break.

Jackie had her eyes on the book and one hand on the computer’s keyboard. She had been writing notes non-stop since her meeting with the dean. As she had explained it to Jan, her complaint had been discussed, and even when she presented a well-written note and had some witnesses to back it up, the only thing the university was doing was reprimand him and, –since it was the first time someone had said something about the professor’s behavior- let him continue his classes with a warning.

In terms of Jackie’s situation, they had dictated that she’d be able to present a final assignment that would include several –if not all- units of the program, and it would be evaluated by a panel of professors from similar backgrounds, to make it fair. The thing was that her former professor was the one that had formulated the questions and, aside from being a lot, they were pretty gimmicky and for all those reasons, she had started the assignment way earlier than the semester was over, just to be sure.

“Okay, I’m done for the day too.” She closed her notebook. “I feel like there’s smoke coming from my ears or something.”

“Oh, was it you? I thought it was one of the machines.”

Jackie scrunched her nose. “Anyway, it seems like it’s a slow day and I have ten more minutes here so… Do you want to go watch a movie at the cinema?”

“At the cinema? Whoa… I haven’t thought about it but it’s been ages since I went to watch a movie…”

“Is that a yes…?” Jackie did her best to hide her nervousness behind the question.

“Sure. But I have to warn you, I’m not good with horror movies.” Jan shrugged.

“I saw that coming… But there’s this old cinema called Bellamy, we could ride the subway and would be there in no time. They play random movies every day so we could just get there and grab a couple of tickets for the next feature. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. Oh! I’ll put it on the group chat in case anyone else wants to tag along.”

Jackie’s lips turned into a thin line. “Okay… you do that and I’ll finish here.”

Jan hadn’t even noticed the shift in the girl’s mood, she was way too excited typing the message on her phone.

“I hope you’re not upset but it seems it’s going to be just me and you,” Jan mentioned while Jackie closed the door of the copy room. “Everyone’s plans or they are studying or… I don’t know.”

“Oh… no… it’s fine by me if it’s fine for you.”

“Of course! It’ll be fun!” She smiled.

It was still raining outside so they shared Jackie’s red umbrella that matched with her rain boots.

“What’s with this downpour?” Jackie wiped some drops from her clothes once they got underground. “Okay, here we go.”

Jan seemed amused. “I have never ridden the subway… well, back when I was like four I’m sure my mom took us me and my brother but I have no memories of it whatsoever.”

“You’ll get used to it quickly. Honestly, it’s one of the easiest ways to travel when it’s not packed.”

Without objecting, Jan followed Jackie’s lead up close. They almost coordinated steps to avoid puddles while running; the comical situation got them laughing at loud all their way to the subway station.

“I’m out of breath.” Jackie leaned against one column before closing the umbrella.

They shook some drops out of their clothes and waited for the subway to arrive. When it arrived not even five minutes later, they rushed to climb onto the wagon before they got pushed by others passengers. At least with the rain, there was place to move and even some seats available.

Jan had decided she liked riding the subway, it was a great place to observe the diversity of the fauna of the city. There were all kinds of people around probably heading to their works or their homes or to meet friends or just somewhere different. It was exciting, to consider the unlimited possibilities.

She looked at Jackie and displayed a giant grin that had the other girl blushing lightly and looking away.

“So how did you find this place?” Jan asked after a couple of minutes.

It caught Jackie out of guard. “Huh? What do you mean?” She frowned lightly.

“I was wondering how did you find this place since it’s not near the campus.”

“Oh that… I actually discovered it a couple of years ago. Things at home with my mom after the divorce weren’t precisely on the best terms so after school I never got straight back there. Instead, I started wandering around and taking the subway or the bus to go anywhere really.” Her voice threatened with breaking but she quickly cleared her throat. “One of those times I ended up in this old building, a theatre with so much history and they played these movies I had never seen before so… I stayed there ever since.”

“Whoa… that’s…” Jan wanted to reach for her hand but the older girl hurried to jump off the seat.

“This is our stop.” She pointed out.

“Alright. We’re here.”

“We are.” Jackie showed her a smile and grabbed the umbrella, ready to face the rain. “Let’s go.”

They had arrived just in time for Carrie but since Jan had stated she didn’t enjoy horror films, they waited ten minutes for the next movie to start. Coincidentally, it was My Fair Lady with Audrey Hepburn so it would also work for research purposes –or that was what Jan said- aside from the fact she had never watched it.

Jackie couldn’t say she was a newbie to Hepburn’s movies, she had watched all of them at least once but having company was new to her. Since getting into college she had stopped needing the cinema as an escape, a way to avoid reality at least for a couple hours; it was after meeting her friends and starting her classes that she eventually had less time to go there or simply, didn’t need it anymore.

Now, it was a whole different scenario. She had Jan next to her and it was a bit magical to see her in the dark with the light of the screen reflecting on her face, something that made her heart race. She would’ve died to hold her hand at that instant but it was true that she’d also die if she touched her as if Jan held the power of burning her with a mere contact.

Then, the screen went black and the credits started rolling, the movie was over.

They waited until most people had left the room and then they walked out.

“So, did you like the movie?”

Jan tilted her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a period piece from time to time and the costumes were iconic but… Professor Higgins is awful!” She gestured with her hands to emphasize her displeasure. “He spent all this time torturing Eliza… changing her to the point where she couldn’t go back to her life. That’s a psychopath.”

“Oh thank God, we agree.” Jackie sighed with relief.

“No wonder Rosé and her classmates changed part of the plot because…”

“Yeah. I’m dying to see that. How are the rehearsals going by the way?”

“They are great, I have a small part… the equivalent of one of those ladies on the horse races and I appear in two numbers but the rehearsals are so much fun with everyone. It's a nice group of people that are passionate about musicals.”

They got out of the room and saw the people already gathering for the next feature. The smell of popcorn was strong in the air just like the humidity of the rain on the carpet.

Jackie spotted a familiar face and her eyes lighted up. “Oh my God, Sophie!” She waved toward a short old woman with white hair and giant round glasses. “Jan, you have to meet Sophie”

“Jackie, darling.” She shuffled toward them. She pulled Jackie for a tight hug. The woman barely reached her waist.

“Sophie, this is my friend, Jan.” She introduced them.

“Hi-” Before Jan could say something else, Sophie also hugged her.

“Sophie is the owner of the theatre,” Jackie explained once the old lady let the younger breathe.

“Oh! That’s awesome. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I have waited for ages for Jackie to finally bring a special someone…”

“No!” Jackie shook her head. “It’s- It’s not like that at all… We’re friends.”

“Pardon me, it’s only that when you introduced me to this lovely young lady I just thought… maybe someone had finally melted your cold façade.”

“Oh, Sophie… what are you saying?” She laughed nervously, her face was completely red. “Don’t listen to her… she’s old.”

Jan giggled. “It’s alright. I adore Jackie, she’s one of my best friends.”

“I haven’t seen this one in a while, you’d think she vanished or something.” The woman pointed.

“I’m sorry, Sophie. I should’ve called you at least.”

“For sure.” Sophie nagged.

“It won’t happen again… I’ll come back more often after the midterms, I promise it.”

“Oh darling, you haven’t heard, have you?”

Jackie looked puzzled. “What?”

“The Bellamy is going to be demolished.”

“What?!” The girl’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“How?” Jan asked, in disbelief as well.

“Well, a group of rich people has decided this is the perfect location to build one of those department stores.”

“No, no, no… this can’t be. This place is sacred, part of the cultural heritage of the city, it can’t be destroyed to build a mall.”

The old lady shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it, it’s already written.” She patted Jackie’s shoulder. “Listen, honey, the important thing is that this place served its purpose for a long, long time and we got to enjoy it.”

Jackie was on the verge of tears. “How can you say that? How can you give up just like that? Without even putting a fight? The Bellamy is not just another cinema.”

The girl stormed out of the theatre before anyone else could say something.

“Wait! Jackie!” Jan shouted but she lost the girl in the crowd. “I’m sorry, I’m sure she didn’t mean any of that.” She softly explained to Sophie.

“You don’t need to tell me, I know. Now go after her, she needs a friend right now.”

“Yeah… I will…” Jan turned around.

“Oh, and Jan, one more thing,” Sophie called. “keep an eye on her, she seems inscrutable sometimes but she’s sensitive underneath.”

Jan displayed a tiny smile. “I know.”

“Jackie! Jackie wait!”

As if it didn’t matter at all, it had stopped raining.

She found the elder laying against the wall, next to a Casablanca poster that had been there since… well… probably since Casablanca first premiered.

Jackie’s cheeks were wet and her eyes reddened but she had wiped all the tears before Jan got closer.

“Hey… I’m so sorry.” Jan looked at her with soft eyes.

Jackie closed her eyes and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe it… this theatre is a home to me.”

“There must be a way to save it, we’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t know… it seems impossible… even Sophie has renounced.”

“Then we’ll convince her as well.” Jan grabbed her wrists. “We’ll find a way, there’s always a way.”

“Okay, Disney Channel Original Movie motivational speech.”

Jan chuckled. “What do you say if –for now- we go home and pick something to eat? I’m starving and... is it me or popcorn buckets are getting smaller?”

She got a smile from Jackie, that was a win.

“Plus, if I want to become a subway expert I’m supposed to ride it again, right?”

“I suppose that’s correct.”

“I’m telling you, I know this vegetarian place that has the best eggplant tacos and veggie sushi…” Jackie was commenting when they returned to the dorms.

“Sounds amazing, just let me pick some money from my room and we’ll be ready to go. You can come with me if you want.”

“Alright.”

They climbed the stairs until Jan stopped in her tracks making Jackie almost bump into her.

“Hey, careful there…”

But the brunette was petrified, watching the scene that happened on the very same floor of her dormitory. It took Jackie a moment to locate the event that had caused such commotion but as soon as she saw it, she just wished her friend hadn’t.

There he was, Nathan, the object of her affections, walking out the room of a girl that lived in the building. A different girl, it wasn’t the girl from the first day or another girl she had seen him with before. This was a gorgeous girl –like the others- but there was something different about him -him with her- the way he put the missing lock behind her ear and got closer to press a chaste kiss on her lips, the way they smiled after their lips touched.

Jan felt sick to her stomach, her face got pale and she barely could hold the tears.

The couple returned to the room and right when the door closed, she ran directly to her room. She desperately searched for the keys.

“Jan? Are you…?” Jackie touched her shoulder.

Jan sobbed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… I just… I need to find the keys… it’s like I can’t find them anywhere.” She kept rummaging her backpack without result.

It was too late, she broke into tears, her knees gave in and she ended on the floor.

“I’m sorry, this must look so stupid in comparison to the theatre but… It hurts so badly.” Her voice broke into pieces. “I keep telling myself it’s just another girl but there’s always another girl… It's exhausting.”

“Oh, Jan… no…” Jackie kneeled next to her and embraced her in a hug. “It’s not you.”

“I know that… it will never be me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

She finally found her keys and got up.

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I’ve lost my appetite.” Her voice sounded weak, distant.

“No, wait… you don’t have to be alone right now.” Jackie hurried to stand up.

“I really… really… want to be alone.” She sobbed harder. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” She closed the door on Jackie’s face as soon as she got in.

“Jan!” Jackie knocked on the door. “Jan… please don’t do this. Jan, please… open the door.”

She tried for another five minutes but finally gave up. Jan wasn’t opening the door and the best Jackie could do was texting Rosé hoping the girl would come home earlier to take care of her.

It broke Jackie’s heart to see her like that, especially for a guy like Nathan, one that wasn’t worth the tears.

The following day, it surprised Jackie to find a text message from Jan early in the morning –earlier than any of her classes.

From Jan 🐻: Meet me at Lucky’s before class. It’s important.

Jackie jumped out of bed and rushed to get ready as soon as she read it, after a night of poor sleep she was waiting for that text message.

She walked straight to the diner and found her friend sitting on a table with her computer open and her pink-haired roommate sitting in front of her.

“Hey...” She approached the table.

“Jackie, you’re here!” Jan greeted with the same energetic tone she had –even that early in the morning. Although she looked hyped, the bags under her eyes told a different story.

“Uh… Are you okay?” Jackie asked before taking a seat next to her. She also eyed Rosé who just shrugged.

“Peachy.” She smiled. “Would you like a cup of coffee maybe? Waffles? Pancakes? French toast?”

“The waffles are really good.” Rosé pointed.

“Thanks… I’ll have some eggs maybe but… what’s going on? Yesterday…”

“Yesterday was yesterday and today is today.” Jan gestured with her hands. “I texted you because I have something super important to show you.” She pointed at her computer's screen.

That was it? They were going to pretend the Nathan incident hadn’t happened at all? Well, at least for Jan, that was the case.

“Alright… tell me.”

“So, I did some research and I believe it is possible to save the theatre if we gather enough evidence to prove it has historic importance for the city.” The page of the culture ministry was opened along with at least fifty different tabs on the subject.

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you’d come with an idea since you know the place better than me. Maybe Sophie could tell us some story or we could do our own research.”

Jackie sighed. “I guess it could work but we’d need to invest hours on this and… are you sure you want to do it? I feel like you have a lot on your plate already.”

“Oh no, she devoured the pancakes the second the plate touched the table, trust me.” Rosé assured.

“I was hungry and I didn’t eat them right away, they drew a face with the blueberries so I took a picture and posted it on Instagram first.” She shook her head. “As I was saying, this is important for you, Jackie and I want to help.” She stared at her, hoping she would convince her with those arguments.

“Jan, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t even try it.” Rosé mumbled. “I already did and she chose to ignore me categorically so I followed her here to make sure she didn’t jump from a bridge or something.”

“She’s also here to hit on my coworker so it’s really a win-win situation.”

They high-fived.

“That’s lovely… but we should talk about what happened last night…”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jan stated. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think…”

But Jackie was interrupted by Denali.

“Hi, how’s it going over here? Do you guys want something else?” She had her eyes fixed on her notebook.

“Can I get a cup of Americano and scrambled eggs?” Jackie asked. She needed some coffee to go through it.

“Right away. Do you girls would like something else? More coffee?”

“We’re good.” Jan smiled.

“Oh, Jan, I have your check over there if you want to collect it right now.”

“Thank you, Nali. I’ll be there in a second.”

Rosé cleared her throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

But it was like the cat had caught the pink-haired girl’s tongue.

“…if you can pour more coffee for me?”

“Sure.” She smiled politely but it was clear that Rosé was melting inside.

Once the waitress left, all the eyes were on Rosé.

“What? I got paralyzed. I can’t do it. I can’t. It is physically impossible for me to ask her out, my body reacts like that.”

“I believe, as science people and Twitter users have once referred to it, that's a case of gay panic. Have you tried in a different way?” Jackie asked before sipping some of Jan’s coffee. “What is this?” She winced.

“Decaffeinated.”

“Ugh…”

“Bitch, I have tried… I even left my number written on a $20 bill when I went to the bathroom earlier, hoping she’d see it but it’s like I’m invisible.”

“That’s not right. Denali loves to flirt and she’s single so I don’t see why she wouldn’t say yes. Oh, I know, you could invite her to the play's opening night.”

Jackie looked at the younger, Jan had dodged the conversation about her but there was no way her friend wasn’t going to dig into it later.

“Maybe I can pave the way for you… find out if she’s having a rough morning or something that affects her response.”

“Would you do that for me?” Rosé didn’t sound so sure about it.

“Of course, I have to pick up my check… my first check here.”

“Congratulations.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Thank you.” She then touched her roommate’s arm. “Leave it to me. I’ll be subtle.”

“Jan…” Before Rosé could say something, she was already heading toward the counter.

“Was it bad?” Jackie asked once the brunette left.

“Girl… You have no idea.” Rosé sighed.

“Thank you, Nali.” Jan held the check proudly in her hands.

“Is your name correct?”

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

“Remember you work tomorrow so have a moderate amount of fun with it and stay away from ice skates and acrylic nails hot sales… Huh… I guess that only applies to me.” Denali turned around.

“Denali… I was wondering…”

The raven-haired girl dropped a pile of napkins.

“Shit. Don’t tell anyone but I forgot to put my contacts on this morning and basically, I can’t see shit without these giant glasses.” She murmured before quickly putting a pair of dark frame glasses on. She grabbed the napkins and after typing something on the computer, took them off immediately.

“Oh… that explains a lot actually…”

“What do you mean?”

Subtle Jan, subtle.

“So my roommate likes you.”

Denali almost tripped. “Wait, what?”

“She’s been trying to ask you out for the past weeks but she feels like you’re ignoring her.”

Denali dragged Jan behind the counter with her and kneeled before putting the glasses back on.

“Which one is your roommate?” She whispered.

“The one with the pink hair that comes here often… is a regular. You can't ignore her she's like one of those anime main characters with the funky hair.”

“Oh my God, Fine Wine is your roommate?”

“What?”

“She’s always singing that Kylie Minogue song and I thought it was a joke since you guys call her Rosé but…”

“That’s her name.”

“Well, she is fine wine.” Denali pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah? She even left a $20 bill with her number as a tip for you?”

“That was her?! I thought it was one of the creepy guys from table six. Oh my God…” She grabbed the jar of tips and started searching for the bill.

“Bitch if I’m missing a single dollar from that jar I swear to God…” Kandy yelled from the other side of the diner.

“Shut up, I’m in the middle of something here…” Finally, she pulled out the bill with pink glitter ink.

“It says XOXO Rosé.”

“What part of «I’m not wearing glasses» you didn't catch?”

"Is that a yes, though?

Denali nodded. She removed the glasses and waved toward their table. “Hey Rosé, if you’re not busy tonight, I’ll call you!”

Rosé blushed instantly but she nodded with a smile on her face.

Jackie, behind her, just shook her head, acknowledging that the shenanigans of her friend had worked out once again.

[biggboss14-blog]

Bigg Boss 14

Bigg Boss 14 will begin from 27th September 2020. Salman khan is the Host of Bigg Boss 14. Hardly any Contestants are affirmed and creators are managing different hopefuls. Nia Sharma, Vivian Dsena, Jasmin Bhasin are some large names for this Season alaong with Tejasswi Prakash and Shehbaaz Gill.

Bigg Boss 14 is the most examining point. According to its uncommon subject this year. It vigorously affected the crowd. As the report spread around the crowd of the Bigg Boss 14 is interested. So there is awful news for the crowd of the Bigg Boss. Bigg Boss is deferring because of the environmental change in Mumbai. Because of the substantial downpour, the fixing work got influenced over the previous week. Set isn't prepared for inviting Bigg Boss 14 Contestants. In this way, hence, the crowd needs to sit tight for One more month. As there was news shuffling around Jasmin Bhasin, Pavitra Punia, Elijah Khan, Naina Singh have been finished. The candidates must be isolated for a week and show should go on air on Colors Tv in fifth of September, in any case, there are significant changes in the arrangement.

Watch the Full Episode and Live Coverage of Bigg Boss 14 at:  Biggboss14hd.net

Bigg Boss 14

A portion of the sources uncover that the show must go on air from the fourth of October however nothing is settled according to Reliable sources. Because of the harm to the Bigg Boss, 14 house prudent steps occurred. Then, the last period of the show was quite valued by the crowd because of which the show was additionally stretched out for 2 months. Sidharth Shukla was the VIP who wins Bigg Boss 13 and Asim Riaz was the next in line. So let see who will be our next champ of the Bigg Boss 14 Show. Above all Bigg Boss will be facilitated by Salman Khan as regular and he is continually facilitating Bigg Boss show from 11 Seasons.

Bigg Boss Contestants:

Before Bigg Boss goes on air there are consistently immense talk and conversation about challengers until except if legitimate declaration to put. Which kept the crowd occupied besides list incorporates the superstars' names as per their past record. And furthermore a few untouchables likewise included. There was no outside in Bigg Boss 13 except for it is certain that there will be outcasts in Bigg Boss 14.

A portion of the media-based superstars' candidate list:

Nia SharmaVivian Dsena

Sugandha Mishra

Jay Soni

Avinash Mukherjee

Shireen Mirza

Nikhil Chinapa

Aseem Merchant

Finally, we should discuss the slogan which energizes the crowd and aficionado of Bigg Boss. As in the last period of Bigg Boss 13, it was "Bigg Boss Tedha", subsequently Bigg Boss 14 will be designated "Bigg Boss 14 Hoga Rocking."

There is one different news with respect to the cleanliness of the candidate that the producer will be extremely exacting about cleanliness. Regardless of whether any hopeful discovered wiped out or something to that effect. The individual won't be permitted to climate a big name or an outcast. Anybody with an ongoing history of global travel will likewise not be permitted to partake in Bigg Boss 14 Live.

As indicated by the true news started from the staff of the Bigg Boss 14 Show is that the show will be made on air in October. All the reports are in the kindness that the impacts of the worldwide illness are not yet completed and its compelling assessment results are giving pinnacle esteems inside the subcontinent. Bigg boss 14 new promo of 

One of the focuses in the defer reports is likewise that rainstorm is false. The Bigg Boss 14 Show group was on the last stage to make it live on 27 September 2020 on the grounds that all the exercises were done.

Due to COVID-19 conditions, each competitor will be isolated for the initial not many days or weeks at an alternate area in different lodgings situated in Mumbai.

This season topic of the Bigg Boss 14 Show is very surprising from the previous thirteen seasons. Right now topic of the show is identified with the lockdown which was made during Corona top days. Anyway VIPs are about JasmineBhasin, PavitraPunia, RamandSaghar&Ejaz Khan are a portion of the settled challengers.

SALMAN KHAN

A portion of the others season Salman khan will be the most dynamic host of the Bigg Boss 14. From the historical backdrop of the period, unmistakably the unscripted TV drama is one of the most-watched shows of this world. In the Bigg Boss, 13 SidhartShukla developed as a victor and AsimRiaz was the main second place.

Reports: Bigg Boss 14 Show is delayed. Know why?

Bigg Boss 14 Show will be facilitated by Bollywood genius SalooBhai for the eleventh occasions for which all the Bigg Boss 14 Show fans were holding up with a long timespan and exhausting secured part of life, because of spread of universal ailment.

it is obvious from the present scenes that the outcomes acquired about the Corona malady are not crumpled yet they are decreased somewhat. by those outcomes, it is said that all the Bigg Boss 14 Show fans need to hold up somewhat more about a month. From the past news and promotions it was known to everybody that the show will be live in September, yet now the Bigg Boss 14 Show will be made live in the primary seven day stretch of October.

Bigg Boss Manager 14

it very well may be seen from the present report the show will likewise get high prevalence because of its most famous topic vision. This time the most reality-based show isn't influenced by the current conditions however its fans and creator group affect its course of events. get the Latest Updates of Watch the Full Episode of Bigg Boss 14

it was said that the producer group arranged an isolate time of a week ago for all the hopefuls who will be settled to take an interest in the extraordinary engaging Bigg Boss 14 Show 2020. according to late updates, all the group and producers have expanded the live date.

Every so often back producers delivered a mystery about the Bigg Boss 14 advancement on the official Twitter with this title "2020 kemanoranjanka scene palatneaarahahai, Bigg Boss 14 jaldaarahahaisirf Colors standard. Catch Bigg Boss 14, 2020 preceding TV just on Voot live Bigg Boss 14. In the promotion video, Salman Khan says "Manoranjanpe 2020 ne uthayaparashn, dengeuttarmanatehuyjashanab scene sense of taste. KunkyBigg Boss dengue 2020 kojawab."

Bigg Boss 14 Show's home has been made and all the elaborate and stylish exercises are done in Mumbai's Film City rather than Lonavala. It is additionally said that this season Bigg Boss 14 will conflict with the Indian Premier League. A portion of the other uplifting news is likewise supposed that Star Plus TV Channel is additionally prepared to air NachBaliye around a similar time when the Reality Show Bigg Boss 14 will be made live.

[pleasurextreasure]

❜cutlass (19/?)

genre: Aristocrat!reader x Pirate!Jeno, ft. NCT Dream

warnings: all nct Dream members are above 18+, multi-chapter, swear words here and there throughout fic

word count: 1.3k

prompts: in which Jeno is cursed to live for three more years and only loving someone and expecting nothing in return can break it

a/n: have i mentioned that Renjun is my fav in this fic, bc he is ➵admin kiki

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | Current

Ξ r e q u e s t Ξ

As your body slipped into the darkened waves, Jeno could only stare helplessly at the spot you had been standing in only seconds ago. All sense of motion seemed to rid itself from him as he numbly looked at the empty space. The raw emotion he was feeling in the area behind his rib-cage was burning through him and it was painful to breathe. 

He tore his gaze away from the spot to look at his crew member and the cursed creature that was latched onto him. He drew out his cutlass, tightening his grip until his knuckles hurt. Killing this Siren seemed like a great therapeutic way of ridding some of his anger. The young Captain willed himself to step forward, stalking towards the duo until he was behind them.

Raising his cutlass, he slashes the creature's back, earning an ear-aching shriek and the satisfying view of it crippling to the floor. Haechan staggered forward, one knee hitting the floor as he steadied himself. He looked back, gazing up at his savior.

"Captain, I..." Haechan's words were lost, similarly to the memories of the previous events. His mind was blank and he couldn't remember what happened after seeing you and Renjun. "Where's Y/N and Renjun? I saw them and then... and then what?"

A bitter taste seeped onto Jeno's tongue at the innocent-like question. His lips pursed together for a brief moment before answering, "Sirens got them." 

Despite the calmness in his voice, Haechan could tell how anxiety-driven his friend was. The subtle clasping and unclasping movements his fingers did as they adjusted their grip on his weapon, paired with the sharpness in his eyes was proof enough.

"Are you alright to get up?" 

Haechan stands, wordlessly giving his answer. "Are we going after them?"

"Of course we are." Jeno's sharp answer makes him flinch back. "We have to gather the others - find Mark first, since he needs to steer the ship into the island."

Haechan's eyes widen at the statement, "We're close to the island already, do we need to go any closer than this? We can use a dingy, no?"

"Too dangerous." Jeno immediately shoots down the idea. "The waves look to be higher than our heads, and we don't know how many of them are surrounding us."

The brunette scowls, wondering why he didn't think of the obvious. He wipes away his wet bangs, casting them to the side to relieve some of his blindness that was caused by the unrelenting downpour. The distraught look Jeno holds doesn't seem to lessen with the passing time and Haechan merely reaches out to him, grasping his shoulder with a light yet firm grip.

He waits until his Captain looks at him before offering a smile, "You can depend on us, Captain. We'll get them back in no time."

=======

You awoke with a start as your upper body sprang forward, resulting in a sudden rush rising to your head. You gingerly grasp it, willing for the pain to go away. It's only until you hear Renjun's voice that you finally take in your surroundings.

"Y/N, are you alright?" his voice is thick with worry, but with the way his voice shook, you could tell he was worrying over more things than just you. He crawls over to you, wincing in pain while doing so. "Here, let me check for injuries."

You raise a drenched hand to gently stop him, muttering that you were fine. "Did you get hurt?" From the way his eyes were squinting, you could tell he had subdued to some sort of injury. 

"Ah, just a scratch on my leg." He responds in a soft tone. "Nothing to fret over, it isn't too deep."

"I'm relieved." You sigh out. You look around the area, finding it to be a cave. Your inner core shook at the memories of being dragged into the murky waters by one of the Sirens. "We need to find a way out."

"I'm with you on that, but it's too dangerous to just wander in here. We don't know what could be lying ahead." Renjun explains before pulling himself up, grunting in the process once putting weight onto his injured leg. He twists towards you, offering his hand to help you rise to your feet. 

"We can't stay here waiting around either, though." You reply back, pointing towards the opening of the cave. "I don't know where that leads but I think it'd be best to go through it. I'm sure Jeno and the others have noticed our absence by now, right?"

There's hesitance in Renjun's voice as he responds, "...You're right. They're probably on the other side, already waiting for our slow asses."

You give him a pursed-lip smile before stalking over to the entrance and ultimately walking through it, now finding yourself in a narrow passageway. You raise your hand towards the damp rock wall, trying to find some guidance during your path.

"Here, let me take lead. If there's something dangerous ahead, I can take the brunt of the attack." He whispers, gently tugging at your ripped blouse to halt your movement. 

You allow him to pass by and take your hand in his as guidance. You both walk for what feels like an eternity down the passageway, always halting whenever there was a noise that sounded too close for comfort. During this time, your own body had been shaken with nerves and you were sensitive to the coldness of the atmosphere, a course of shivers running through you once in a while. 

You finally arrive into another closed-off area, with the only light source coming from its ceiling. Looking up, you found that this seemed to be the only way you'd be able to exit out of this place. The rays of light that shone through the opening cascaded over a small pond that was in the center of the room.

"Ah, have you finally awoken?" The sudden voice is melodic - soothing, even. 

Renjun and you look around, trying to find its owner. He points to the pond, "Look over there."

The area above the water begins to shimmer with light, and its surface begins to ripple as if being stepped upon. You blink, not believing the sight unfolding before you. The glimmers of light began to group together, forming the outline of a person. A bright light followed, and you shut your eyes in response to the sudden brightness. As you slowly opened them again, you were amazed to find a woman standing there. Standing was the wrong term to use, as you were quick to notice that she was actually floating on the water, her toes merely touching the surface. 

"That... That's," Renjun was at a loss for words at the woman's sudden appearance, much like yourself. 

"It's a pleasure to have you here, Renjun and Y/N." You suck in a breath at her words. Who - or more appropriately, what - is she? She was far too beautiful and ethereal to be real, but your gaze that was focused on her proved otherwise. "I am Moira."

You instinctively huddled close to your crew mate, and reach for his arm. "Renjun, do you know who she is?"

It took some time for his words to pry their way out of his constricting throat. His body wracked with nerves whilst answering you, his eyes momentarily clenching tight with the fear that was beginning to overwhelm him.

"It's the Sea Witch."

--------------------------------------

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[princessofthedarkrealm]

The Ape King’s Raine (A Dawn of the Planet of the Apes Story)- Chapter 8 {pt 1}

(Caesar x human female)

:::::Contains evolved ape and human sexuality. Don’t like, don’t read.:::::

Sooo sorry it took me so long to update this.

“Ape not kill ape.” I watched Blue Eyes try to mouth the words I had spoken. “Ape...not...kill...ape.” I spoke slower this time, like I was the one learning to speak. Blue Eyes repeated back to me what I had just said. I gave a firm nod. “Good. Uh...let’s see. What else?” We were standing next to the lake after our third fishing trip together. Ash was stringing up the last of our fish. It was the morning after me and Caesar had officially hooked up and my first English lesson with Blue Eyes. I had now been with the apes for a week. “You are my friend.” Blue Eyes smiled right away. Apparently he knew that one. “Friend? I know...friend. Me...friend...to you?” He pointed at me. “Sure.” I gave a shrug. “I think of you as my friend. Or at least I’d like to.” He gave a nod and hooted.

I giggled. “So we’re friends then.”

I stuck out my hand for Blue Eyes to shake it. He glanced at it, then back up at me. 

“Oh…uh…do this.” 

I pulled my hand back then stuck it out again. Blue Eyes copied the gesture. I shook his hand.

“This is called a hand shake. It means friends.”

“Friends?”  Blue Eyes gave me a nod.

I nodded back at him with a smile. “Yes. Friends.”

**********

It started pouring before we even got to the village. I was soaked. I decided it was too treacherous to climb up to my tower, so I decided to go see if Caesar was home. I slipped a couple of times going up the platform. I couldn’t reach shelter fast enough. Caesar was sitting by the fire, his left side to me. He looked up as soon as I walked in.

“It’s a little wet out, babe,” I said in a loud voice.

Caesar’s face was a mask of concern. “Raine.” He stood.

I wiped the water from my face with my hands and tried to catch my breath. I hated being wet. I shivered. Caesar came to me. He held out his hand to me and gestured to the fire with his other.

“Come. Get warm.” He put his hand on my arm and led me to the fire. “Do not…want you sick.”

I started to remove my jacket, but apparently I wasn’t fast enough for my boyfriend. I stood with my arms pointed straight down and let him pull it off. He placed it on the hook in the wall.

I started to wring out my hair. My waves were going to be wild after this.

Caesar turned and looked me up and down. “What about…the rest?”

“My boots are all wet. But my pants and jacket got the worst of it.” I glanced down and patted my thighs. My cargos were soaked.

Caesar’s gaze was dark as he approached me. But it was not a look of lust, more of a deep-seated concern. I shivered again, this one a full body one.

“I want you to be…comfortable. To be well. Not to get sick.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to get sick either. But I don’t know if I should start taking my clothes off. Anyone can walk in.”

Caesar’s gaze softened.  His nostrils flared. “Raine…” He placed his hand on my temple. “No one will be out…in this.”

“Yeah and leave it up to me to get caught in it.” I raised an eyebrow.

Caesar caressed my cheek. I didn’t have to take everything off. Just down to my underwear. And I was sure Caesar wouldn’t mind me curling up next to him.

“Do you…mind if I take off what I need to?” I rubbed my hands against the sides of my thighs.

Caesar ran his thumb along my lips. “I would help you…take off what you need to.”

I parted my lips slightly. Caesar was going to undress me?

“I uh…” I toyed with the hem of my shirt. It wasn’t near as wet as the rest of me, but still. “I just as soon take this off too.”

I started to lift it, but then stopped. My hair was still dripping. I started to gather it together and wrung it out some more, giving Caesar a smile as I did so.

“I just as soon go through the whole process.”

“What about your boots?”

His voice sounded eager. Damn. Was he that much in a hurry to get my clothes off?

“Uh…sure.” I stuck out one of my feet. “Do you think you can untie them?”

Caesar got into a crouch and went to my stuck out foot. Right away he untied them. Then to my surprise, he started to pull my boot off. My socks unfortunately had a few wet spots. Old shoes will do that to you. Just as soon take them off too. He set that boot aside and then did the next one. Then he lifted his head and his eyes stopped…at my pelvis. He glanced up at me. Was he looking for permission, or was he unsure of how to get my cargos off?

I decided to let him off the hook. I just felt a little like a slut as I untied my pants. Then unbuttoned them. Then came the zipper. My hand stopped, fly midway down as Caesar bent forward and started nuzzling the back of my hand with his mouth. It was a surprising and simple gesture, but having his mouth so close to my mound made it start to tingle. I shivered again, and not just from being wet and chilly this time. I seriously could not wait to see where this was going to go. Were we going to cuddle next? Have sex? Both? Suddenly my clothing felt too clingy. Too restrictive. I pulled my hand away from Caesar’s mouth and pulled my shirt up over my head. My gray bra was gratefully dry. I threw my shirt towards where my jacket was. Caesar lifted his gaze towards me.

“Sorry. I uh…” I went to place my hands on my hips, and then crossed them over my chest instead. “Just wanted to get that off.” I took a deep breath. “Go on.” Another shiver.

Caesar stood abruptly. “You are cold.”

“Uh…kind of.” My arms were covered in goosebumps.

His hands went to my upper arms. “Let me warm you,” he said firmly. “Finish…take off clothes. Let me warm you, Raine.”

Okay. Enough foreplay. I stepped out of his grasp and started to pull my pants down. Gratefully they weren’t snug so I didn’t have to worry about my undies wanting to come down with them. But they were still wet. And I got aggravated. I sat on one of the logs next to the fire and finally peeled my cargos off. I put them aside and pulled off my socks next. Once I was down to my bra and underwear, I found I wasn’t that chilly anymore. Of course the fire helped. I grabbed my wet clothes and put them near the fire. They would dry faster that way. Finally I stood. Caesar’s expression was unreadable as I turned to face him.

“What?” I blurted out.

Caesar said nothing. But his gaze flickered down to my breasts, then just as fast, back up to my face. He stared at me. Thunder rumbled up ahead. This was just like last time.

Not like last time, I reminded myself. I wasn’t almost completely naked last time. I kept my hands to my sides.  Caesar’s chest heaved. His nostrils flared as, very slowly, his eyes raked down my body. Finally, he came towards me.

“No…fur.” His voice was husky.

I gave a nod. “No fur. Just me.” I tucked in my bottom lip.

“Just Raine.” He was right up to me now. He reached up to place a hand on my neck. “Beautiful…” He slid his hand down to my shoulder and ran his thumb along my bra strap. “Perfect Raine.”

Beautiful. Perfect. Things I had never felt like before, but with him, I felt it. If Caesar could see me that way, than what else could I believe?

“Can we sit by the fire?” I asked softly.

Caesar smiled. He reached down and gently grabbed my hand. He led me closer to the fire and then went to add another piece of wood. The fire popped and fizzled. I glanced off in the distance. The rain fell steady, not a total downpour anymore. I sighed contently. I felt like me and Caesar were a couple of cave people, back from when the world was still young. Caesar crouched next to the fire in front of one of the logs and held out his hand. I crouched right in front of him, facing him. And then he sat. I went to my knees between his legs. My left bra strap slipped down to the cusp of my shoulder. I didn’t adjust it. Caesar placed his hands on my hips and ran them up my sides. He rubbed his thumbs along the bottom edge of my bra. His eyes trailed down to my breasts again, and this time, he left them there.

“This is called a bra. Women wear it for modesty and to uh…support their breasts.”

I felt my face flush. Caesar lifted his gaze back to my face and I couldn’t decide what was warming me more: the fire at my back or the one that was smoldering in Caesar’s eyes. His hands shifted to cup my breasts and he started stroking the fabric that covered them. Was he genuinely curious about this new contraption or was he thinking about the soft mounds that it covered? Maybe both?

I couldn’t help but grin. “I guess there’s a lot about me that must seem strange to you. My clothes. My mannerisms.” My gaze met his and the heat in my cheeks intensified. “My body.”

“Not strange. I used to live with…humans…Was raised by them.”

He ran his hands up my bra straps and then to my shoulders. I caught a shiver as his soft leathery skin then trailed down my arms. My heart was pounding now.

“Have you ever felt skin before…like this?”

I couldn’t believe I had just asked him that. But the curiosity of if he had had this kind of personal experience with a human woman was killing me.

“Nothing like this, Raine.”  He put his finger under my chin. “Nothing like you.” He brought his other hand up to my right bra strap and pulled it down.

My mound was throbbing now. I wanted him to touch me. To feel how soft and tender my breasts were.

“You can touch them…if you want to. My breasts.”

Caesar’s pupils dilated and his shoulders started to heave. This was it, no turning back. I had just told a highly evolved animal that he could put his hands on one of the most intimate parts of my body. My hand shook slightly as I brought it up to pull down my size B cup on the side that Caesar had already started on. I was going to just get it down to my nipple, but then decided to hell with it.  Caesar’s lips parted at the sight of my fully exposed breast. Then slowly, his left hand went up. I let out a soft gasp as his warm hand cupped my breast. He gently prodded the nipple with his thumb. Then he ran his hand over my breast, up and down. He started kneading it.  I could feel my undies dampen slightly.

“You…like this?” Caesar asked huskily.

I nodded. Now my mouth was hanging open.  He started worrying my nipple again.

“This?”

I nodded again. “Do you like it?”

Caesar gave a nod. “I want…I want to feel you…against me.”

Now as I have said before, I am not one for self pleasure. But at that moment, if I were to feel Caesar’s fur against my bare skin, it would take a lot of self control for me not to plunge my hand down into the front of my undies.

But who was I to deny my new boyfriend something that I myself was dying for?

I finished taking off my bra and set it next to us. Caesar’s eyes traveled lightning fist down to my bare chest, then before I could blink, he put his arms around my back and drew me against him. My hands flew up to grab his biceps. When his course fur met my body, I had to fight back a whimper. Right away my breath started to quicken as every nerve ending in my body came alive. Caesar ran his hands up and down my back and it took all of my will not to start rubbing my bare chest against his.

“Caesar,” I breathed. “My God.”

I could feel a bulge form against my calves and knew Caesar was just as turned on as I was. I ran my hands up his upper arms, all the way up to his neck.

“I want to…”

I stood abruptly and then put my legs to stand on either side of his. Then I came back down, straddling him. Now his bulge was against the front of my undies. Without thinking, I thrusted forward, my hands going back to his arms. Caesar’s eyes grew wide.

“Is that better?” I asked.

Caesar didn’t say anything. He put his palms against my back again and gave a gentle push forward. I let out a shaky breath as our chests touched again. Caesar bent forward until his breath tickled my face.

“Soft.” I heard him inhale. “So…soft. Skin.”

He ran his hands up and down my back. Before I could stop myself, I kissed him firmly on the mouth. It was a quickie, and Caesar just looked at me. “Sorry. I uh...” I placed my right hand back on his neck and started rubbing it while giving him a sheepish look. “I just wanted to kiss you. I bet you’ve never been kissed before.” “Lot of this...I have...never done before.” “You mean this whole...fur to flesh thing?” I wiggled my breasts against him and gasped as Caesar grabbed my waist and pushed my pelvis flush up against his. “Yes. Apes do not...see humans. Do not...mate with them.” He lowered his voice at that last comment.

My palms were starting to sweat and I could both feel and hear my heartbeat reverberating in my ears. I could feel the words almost literally aching to come out of me. I had to ask him.

“Would you ever mate with me?”

I took a deep breath. There was silence now accept for the crackling fire. And the rain. Caesar’s face was a mask of seriousness now. Finally he answered me.

“I would mate with you.”

I gasped.  “You w- You would?” I nodded eagerly.

Caesar gave me a lopsided smile. “Yes. One day. And would you let me…touch you again?”

“Holy shit! You can touch me anywhere, anytime! Yes! Please!”

You’d swear I was an excited teenager who had just been asked to prom by the guy she’d been crushing on.  But I didn’t care. Caesar really wanted to be with me. And to touch me. I kissed him again and then threw my arms around him. Caesar embraced me. I didn’t even wonder what would come next. All I knew was that this was where I wanted to be. I didn’t know about permanently yet. It was way too soon for that. But hell, I was living the dream. I was off the grid, in a place where there were not people, hell no civilization period.

This was a paradise. My paradise.

And I would do everything in my power to protect it.

@barbie-the-centrist  @kit-kat-kitten  @lostdarksoul6  @cat1212

[pixiesstolemyapples]

Stormy Nights Chapter 1

Summary: Nightmares and intense storms have left Pidge with little sleep. Comfort from a close friend helps ease some of her anxieties. Please enjoy!

A/N: This is my first Voltron fic and my first Lance x Pidge fic. I really resonate with these two for some reason, so I really hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If it goes well enough, I may even update it with more chapters. Also please check it out on my FanFiction or my AO3 here! I appreciate that and all of you for reading too! Thank you and enjoy!

EDIT: I fixed the keep reading button! Sorry I forgot to add it, it was 4 AM when I first posted this!

               It was a dark night in the Castle of Lions, the castle having landed down on the planet of Quaid in hopes of replenishing some supplies. The supply run was a success, however the limited light from the moon and the highly intense downpour of rain in tandem with the incredibly loud claps of thunder and high velocity winds, Princess Allura decided it be best to wait out the storms. However, forgetting that night lasts nearly four times longer than what they were used to, they seemed to be stuck. The storms had lasted nearly five quintaints already.

               Everyone in the castle was fast asleep. But with a particularly loud clap of thunder that very faintly shook the castle, the green paladin was startled awake. Pidge's breathing was heavy, frantically feeling around for her bedside light. Drenched in more sweat than usual, she closed her eyes, burying her face into her hands and taking deep, slow breaths to calm herself down. Her face was wet, not from the sweat but from tears. Had she been crying in her sleep again? It must have been the dream again. Having it in her head once more, Pidge sobbed, wiping her eyes and face using the hem of her small black sleep shirt. She breathed steady again, curling her fingers into the soft cotton of her sleep shorts and closing her eyes, feeling the light air from her bedside fan. The planet itself was pretty humid, not to mention Pidge tends to sweat when she sleeps, so using a fan and sleeping in what were essentially summer sleepwear seemed to help her. Just when she was seeming to calm down, another loud clap of thunder sounded with a bright flash of lightning right next to Pidge's window. With a frantic scream, Pidge fell off her bed with a loud thud, the heavy breathing beginning once again.

               Pidge let out another yell when she heard a banging coming from outside her door. What could that be?? She calmed down a little bit when she heard a familiar voice.

               "Pidge?" she heard Lance's voice from beyond her door. "Pidge, are you okay?"

               Pidge got up from the floor, almost running towards her door, pushing the button and letting the door open with a whoosh, Lance suddenly in front of her. "Lance!" she said, her voice trembling. Pidge was small, Lance knew that. He'd never seen her look as small as she was at that moment. She was standing a little hunched over, her arms hugging her shoulders. He rarely saw her in her sleep clothes. He could see hundreds of her little freckles peeking out on her arms and legs, inwardly smirking at the fact that they're not just on her face. Those thoughts were shut down however when he looked into her hazel eyes. Her eyebrows were heavily knitted, and he noticed what looked like fresh tear trails on her cheeks. Had she been crying?

               "Pidge, are you okay?" the Cuban boy asked again, stepping forward into her room, the door whooshing shut behind him. Pidge took a step back from him. Ever the cautious one, Pidge. "I heard you scream, more than once. Are you okay, what happened?"

               Pidge didn't want to worry him, plus it was embarrassing having woke someone up like that. "I'm f-fine.. I just, uh.. I fell out of bed, that's all," Pidge lied. Lance squeezed his lips together. He could tell when Pidge was lying . Despite having disguised herself as a boy for nearly a year, Pidge had a couple of distinct signs at when she was lying. Like right at that moment, she refused to look at him. Second, she was rubbing the fabric of her sleep shirt between her fingers. Lanced sighed.

               "Pidge, why don't you just tell me? I've known you long enough to tell when you're lying to me."

               Pidge looked up at him, his blue eyes not leaving her, making her feel extremely uncomfortable. She let out a shaky breath. "Look, I told you, I'm-" Suddenly another loud clap of thunder roared, a yelp escaping Pidge's throat and involuntarily throwing herself at Lance. Her fingers squeezed the fabric of his soft sleep shirt, her face buried in his chest and her eyes squeezed shut. Feeling her heavy breathing and shaking body, Lance looked down at this small, whimpering girl and realized something.

               "Pidge..." he said, grasping her small shoulders in his large hands. "Are you... afraid of thunder?"

               Pidge's eyes split open. Great, now he's gonna make fun of her. She peered up only to see the face of a concerned Lance looking down on her. She decided to lie again.

               "What? No, of-of course I'm not-" with yet another clap of thunder, Pidge's face was once again buried in Lance's shirt, her arms tight around his torso. Lance was no longer amused. He felt this small person trembling in his arms, and he realized that Pidge was genuinely scared. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, setting his cheek atop the crown of her head and giving her a tight squeeze. Lance had a big, tight-knit family. He knew exactly how effective hugs could be.

               Flutters flew throughout Pidge's stomach. The feeling of being squeezed by somebody so warm and nice... she instantly started to calm down. Her eyebrows knitted together. It wasn't just the storm that was bothering her. The horribly vivid dream she had, of finally finding her brother and her father, only to be cut down by Zarkon himself kept flashing before her closed eyes. She let out a shaky breath and pushed away from Lance's warm embrace. She looked up at him sheepishly, embarrassed at her frightened display.

               "Um..." she fiddled with her hands, trying to find the words for what Lance did. She already felt bad enough that she actually woke someone up with her screams. "Thank you, Lance... I, um.."

               "Heh, it's no problem, Pidge," Lance said sincerely. "You're a member of my team, but... more than that, you're a dear friend of mine. I couldn't sleep soundly knowing that you couldn't."

               Pidge smiled. She was happy to hear that Lance thought so fondly of her. He may be a flirty person, but he's more thoughtful than Pidge realized. And she didn't know why she hadn't seen it until now. Lance was incredibly selfless. He always worried about teammates, always looking out for their wellbeing. She remembered how he helped her find enough gac to buy that vintage game system, all the while he could have been hanging around that mall, flirting with alien girls. He even popped out of a coma to save them once.

               Lance half smiled as he backed up toward the door. "So, you're okay then, right?" he asked, finger gunning towards her in that Lance fashion of his. Pidge giggled, wiping her face of nearly dried tear trails.

               "I'll be fine," Pidge said, holding up an okay sign.

               With a smile and one final look back, Lance retreated out the door. Pidge sighed, still embarrassed at the whole ordeal. He helped calm her down though, at least. So much so that he made her forget... about... the storm...?

               Suddenly the loudest crack of thunder she'd heard that night sounded. Pidge let out a shriek, crouching down to the floor with her hands over her ears. Nearly breathing through her teeth, Pidge busied herself desperately trying to calm herself down, she didn't even hear the door open, suddenly feeling herself being picked up. She opened her eyes to see Lance, pushing a button next to her window, muttering 'first of all, let's fix this' under his breath before heading over to her bed. Gently setting her down on her bed, Lance carefully climbed in next to her, pulling her to his chest, his thighs colliding with her knees.

               A bewildered Pidge peered up at Lance, nearly at a loss for words. "Lance, wh-what are you-"

               "Shhh," he said softly. "Just close your eyes, and try to get some sleep."

               Pidge opened her mouth to speak, but simply nodded her head and closed her eyes. Lance was warm. Not like an uncomfortable heat but a pleasant warm... a closeness. Feeling him breath in and out was both comforting and alarming... she felt his hand move to the small of her back and she shuddered, letting out small, shaky breaths. By no means was it a bad feeling, it wasn't a bad nervousness she was feeling, but... Pidge just didn't know how to explain it.

               Thunder cracked once more, and although it was slightly muffled by the now sealed window, Pidge still let out a whimper, squeezing her eyes shut. Lance pulled her somewhat closer, her head resting against his sternum. She tried to calm her labored breathing.

               "I'm... I-I'm sorry, Lance," Pidge whispered, making sure it wasn't coming out in a sob. Curling her hands into the soft cotton of his sleep shirt, she couldn't help but think of the dream she had again. She let out a shaky sigh.

               "Is it just the thunder that's bothering you tonight, or...?" Lance asked softly. Damn, he could see right through her. Pidge sighed again.

               "I just... have been having the same dream... sometimes for several nights in a row... I finally find Matt and my father.. only for them to be immediately cut down by Zarkon himself. I see Matt's vacant... dead eyes staring back at me," Pidge breathed shakily, "and that's when I wake up."

               Lance was still throughout the story. So still Pidge thought he had fallen asleep for a moment. Suddenly Pidge felt him squeeze her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Pidge..." he murmured sleepily into her hair.

               "Th-thanks..." she said quietly, closing her eyes again. They both settled into a comfortable silence, Pidge's fan whirring in the background.

               "You just use a table fan?" Lance said quietly. "Why don't you use the air conditioning?"

               "Oh, um..." Pidge stammered. "I like to feel the air close to my face when I sleep... I like the sound of it, too, I guess, and..." Pidge stopped short a moment, and continued on quietly, "I... I like using things from Earth..."

               Lance faintly rubbed her shoulder. "Makes sense... I completely understand that."

               Pidge nodded, softly nudging her head against his sternum. Save for a few more cracks of thunder, Pidge fell into a steady rhythm of breathing. Hearing Lance breathe and feeling him breathe, hearing his heartbeat, feeling his hands, heavy on her shoulder, touching at the small of her back... feeling the pleasant warmth radiating off of him, the softness of his sleep shirt, everything just felt so... nice.

               Eventually Pidge's consciousness faded, paying no mind to the slightly quieter albeit crackling sky, and finally letting a deep sleep take over her.

[spectrumscribe]

Day 0 and all the days after; 1, 3, 4, + 9

another favorite fic of mine that needs an update, oof.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

because the Mutant Apocalypse arc was an unmitigated disaster. literally speaking!! it could have been the absolute best one!! i fucking love post-apocalypse situations, not to mention families coming back together again after decades apart. and what does it turn into??? garbage. there was ooc behavior, racist caricature, dialogue not worth shit, infinitely horrible use of characters in the deranged plot, and an ending that was the least satisfying thing ever. i wanted to take the first step to fixing it by creating reasoning and base behind all the nonsense MA gave us, and still have a fix-it fic planned that will take place directly after we left off in canon and undo all the cringe inducing damage ciro did to my kids.

basically, i’m salty.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

About forty-five minutes out of the city, it starts raining.

Casey turns on the wipers as the intensity of the fall picks up, and April is tempted to stick out her hand and feel its cool touch. It hasn’t rained since the first weeks after the bombs; raindrops heavy with silt and residue as the earth tried to cleanse itself of the smoke and toxic waste dumped into its air.

She rolls down the window just enough to stick out her fingers into the downpour, and brings them back in to sniff at the rainfall.

It smells… wrong. The scent of wet earth coming from the open window doesn’t smell right either; just off-key enough it makes its way into the back of April’s throat. It itches.

Casey coughs into his fist, clearing his throat. April closes the window and wipes away the wrong smelling water on her pant leg. As buildings become scarcer, she notes how trees are missing most of their leaves, that grass in great swathes is browning despite this being a fertile season.

April isn’t well versed in environmental science, but she knows what something looks like when it’s dying.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

i’m still cheating with this and pasting full paragraphs, but i loved this scene a lot.

“I’m fine, Raph, really,” Donnie protests. “I’mjust nearing the end of my battery for today. Plus, as I said, they’re notexactly wrong about me. ‘Metal monstrosity’ is a new one, though-”

“Donnie,” Raph says, and Donnie cuts off the beginning ofhis self-deprecation justification. He lets out a frustrated sigh instead,rubbing the back of his metal neck and making a scraping sound.

“It’s just ironic, you know? That just when the worldbecomes mutant friendly… I end up even more of a freak than we all used to be.And I don’t even get to be a freak with a heartbeat anymore. No, I have to bethe very last AI on earth and deal with the fact that nothing like me willexist for probably another few hundred years, since we all got launched rightback into the dark ages. Oh and watch you age and die slowly, but that’s notthe topic tonight.”

“I’m only twenty-five, Donnie. I’m not dead yet.”

“You’re always going to be older than I am, like this,and that’s scary.”

“Pick one thing to fixate on tonight: not aging, or beingostracized by society.”

“Technically, those are the same problem at theirsource.”

“One, Donnie. One crisis tonight.”

“Multitasking is more fun,” Donnie quips flatly,sinking to curl over his knees. Raph pats his cold metal shell, all the heat ofthe hot day’s sun already seeped out into the night.

“…it’s just really sucky, honestly,” Donniesays after a pause. “That after every part of human society being wiped out…even surrounded by mutants… I still can’t go buy god damn groceries like anormal person.”

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

eh… a little? i’m still playing with how the next casey+april chapter will go, plus the leo one, so its a little all over the place in my head. but that’s not concrete canon for the fic so idk if that counts as an alternate version.

[oh-styles]

Something About an Extraction (Revised)

Wow, is this really happening? I’m updating? What? In what world?

Thank you to everyone who has responded, reblogged, liked this fic over the past year; it really means more to me than you know. Thank you for being on this journey with me, and them, and being the best group of people I could ever have. 

I want to say I am not happy with the ending; I feel like I could make it so much better, but I’m just ready for this to be out. 

This isn’t the end of them, but their story is over. I will continue to write them in the future, but as for now, they’ve got where they tried hard to be. Thank you all, I love you, and I hope you enjoy.

9/10 Update: When I posted this, I was very unpleased with the ending, so I revised the entire thing, added over 1000 more words and maybe like 10 more bad jokes, so I hope you like these results better!

It’s a garbled moan from the backseat of his car, and the sound of a light rustling and an exaggerated groan leaving your lips that, with just a glance in his rearview mirror, he spots your body slumped against the window, your mouth left gaped open.

“Gon’ get blood on your hoodie, missy.” He watches intently at the small dribble begin to trickle over your lower lip.

There isn’t much of a response from you, not when your attention is engrossed deeply on the passing cars and the occasional pedestrian dodging quickly through the downpour of rain. Your mind is stuck in a world elsewhere, in a place curled up between reality and fantasy, where the mundane is captivating, and you think you were born in the royal family.

“We’ll be back to your flat soon, okay?” He diverts his attention back to the road, hearing your muffled hum in acknowledgment. “Probably going to need to change your gauze as soon as we get there… Didn’t think you’d bleed this much, pet.”

Harry is met with unsettling silence, the most daunting of sounds when it came to you; the same girl he can never seem to keep quiet for longer than ten minutes, and considering the number of videos he spent his time watching in the waiting room of people waking up from anesthesia, he expected a more outlandish and whimsical girl talking bat crazy in the backseat, but instead he’s met with a nearly silent woman currently hunched over and bleeding onto her pants.

“Babe – the blood, your—”

“Can I suck you off when we get back?”

Harry nearly slams on the breaks and snaps his neck to divert to the backseat, where he sees you wiping off the excess blood onto your hand, smearing a bit across your lips. Despite your cheeks filled with cotton, and your lower mouth still numb from the surgery, he hears perfectly your request, and remains still behind the wheel as he approached your road.

“Was last night not enough for you, darling?”

Last night, though it was mostly spent with you scrolling through copious webpages about nearly everything that could go wrong in a wisdom tooth extraction surgery, you still found yourself tugging down his pants to find some comfort between his legs, a new activity the two of you discovered only recently when you’d find yourself scuttling into his bed in the late evening, or vice versa.

Where you were his or not – though you two found yourself in this rather strange grey area where some things were passed along as suitable behavior, whereas he hasn’t properly fucked you yet – he had no reason to stop you when you insisted you suck him off before bed. Because, if it was being honest, he sleeps soundly after a nice orgasm, and nothing feels better than the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around his leaking cock.

The first time you sucked him off, it was a week after the party; the same party where you kissed him in the bathroom and left him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You had staggered through the crowd saying your quick goodbye’s, before taking one step out the front door before promptly vomiting in the bushes.

He couldn’t put the right word down to describe how eager he was if the following morning you’d have any recollection of the events from the night before, but he was taken by surprise when he caught your hauntingly sullen stare from the other side of the room – your body still clad in your clothes from the night before, hair matted hysterically to his pillow – and all he could hear you mutter was, “I kissed you.”

The kiss – so quick, yet to tender; he remembers the way your breath stuttered against his, and how your lips tasted of fireball, and how you stalled for just a second longer than his, before you fell from your tippy toes and proceeded out the door.

He feels his hands clam up, and he studies your expression for any sign of hesitance, or God forbid regret, but the way you reach out for the cuppa he had left for you, alongside two aspirin and a banana, you brush a hair from your eyes and greet him with a warming smile.

“Indeed you did, pet.”

You nod softly, as if a shared kiss between the lot of you was normal, acceptable behavior and one not to be questioned, and you lean down to take a sip of your drink. “Was it before or after I puked?”

The transition from the kiss to your lips tugging at his cock was one that left him winded and blindsided in bed, one hand pulling knots in his hair, and the other in a tight grip in yours. All he can regather was receiving a rushed call as you got off work, having picked up an extra shift at the restaurant, and asking to come over – nothing out of the random.

He’s unsure if there are days where the two of you ever sleep alone at your designated houses, and if there are, it’s because he’s out of the country, though after giving you a spare to his place, he’s nearly positive you’ll find yourself wrapped in a burrito in his sheets while he is away.

He had returned from London that morning, having to cut his trip a day short to return to Los Angeles for an impromptu album meeting, which left him scrambling out of bed once your text had gone through about getting cut early, and, “I know you brought me back a surprise… Don’t tell me… Is it a crumpet?”

To your dismay, a crumpet wasn’t part of your hefty giftbag – though he did promise to steal his mother’s recipe and make you some before your surgery – but he did gift you the ‘I Love London’ sweatshirt and Big Ben snow globe, which you proudly placed on your windowsill next to your cactus.

“Proper little tourist, aren’t you, love?”

You snort, pulling the hoodie over your head and giving Harry a quick twirl. “Hardly. I’m like those kids that wear a Harvard sweatshirt they bought off Amazon.”

“A little phony, you are.”

“Such a hypocrite.”

But as he looks back at you, through the rearview mirror of his Range Rover, he notices the glaring wet of your eyes, and an evident blood smear down your chin, and he nearly slams on his breaks when the light abruptly changes to red.

“Sorry, pet.” He turns back around to face you and is still met by your quivering chin and bloody gauze that’s nearly slipping past your lips. “Christ—as soon as we get you home, I’ll change that out, okay? Get you cleaned up—”

“I told Dr. Breathdick I loved him…” You tuck the gauze back into your cheek, wiping your saliva onto your hoodie – the same hoodie he had gifted you nearly two weeks prior. You sniffled deeply and wiped quickly under your nose, glancing back up at him with large, beady eyes. “I told him he was pretty and… I loved him…and I want his sperm babies.”

“Oh,” He might’ve spoken too soon when you hadn’t displayed such erratic behavior before. “I think you mean Bretherick, love—"

“I cheated on you… I cheated—I…I don’t want his sperm babies, Harry—I told him I wanted them, and I lied, and I cheated on you—I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, calm down, you didn’t cheat on me—”

“I don’t want his sperm babies, and now me and Dr. Brickledock are married and I cannot support two husbands—”

“Hey, hey—you’re okay. Pet, look at me—we aren’t married, you didn’t cheat—Oh God, I’m sorry, please stop crying—”

It was going to be a very long afternoon.

*

It was the night before your surgery that Harry found himself shuffling to your apartment with a bag of McDonald’s French fries and large sweet tea, a request of yours after texting him something about your “final meal”. He had to remind you that you weren’t about to be executed, but it steered you none.

“Who knows if I will make it out alive, Harold! A woman needs fries!”

You later scrolled through multiple forums of those discussing their experiences with a wisdom tooth removal, and with every one that had retold their encounter of an easy recovery, there were two that ended in infection and dry socket and projectile vomiting. Those were the ones that sent you slamming your laptop closed and pulling the duvet over your quivering body.

“What if they forget to put me under anesthetics?” Harry stood next to you as he peered down at the lump under the covers, snapping a quick photo to send to his mother.

“I promise they won’t, pet—”

“What if I wake up in the middle of the surgery and I can feel all the pain but can’t move? They made a movie about that, you know—”

“Was that movie even medically accurate?”

“What if I don’t wake up from the anesthetics? That’s why they said I couldn’t wear nail polish – if I’m not breathing, my nails turn blue—”

“Did you even read the pamphlet I gave you?” Harry side-eyes the paper left on your bedside table, untouched for the past few days. “It’s a safe procedure that millions of people—maybe billions, I’m not sure—billions of people have gotten—”

He’s taken aback when you hastily throw the covers from your body, surging up to reach out to the man beside you.

“Lay with me, please.”

It’s an innocent request, and Harry doesn’t bat an eye before he climbs over your limbs – nearly taking a knee to the groin – before he settles himself beside you just long enough for you to swing your legs over his, your fingers finding his belt buckle like tiny magnets.

And that’s how it normally went.

Now, he lays contently beneath you, watching with darting eyes as you adjust your body over his cock, your hand reaching beneath his pants to hastily shimmy them down passed his hips. You don’t say much – you never have; you have a way with him, and he gladly enjoys sitting back and watch you take control that sends him into a spiraling ascent to bliss.

He knows you had a lot on your mind, like the surgery you were going under in some odd hours, and the paper that was due the following day, and there was always something about having his cock in your mouth that put your mind at ease just for a little while, and if everyone was comfortable with it, he had no complaints.

He helps you pull the rest of his pants down, and watches as his cock springs up from his underwear, falling on the base of his stomach, cum already leaking gracelessly from the tip. Each time he finds himself in this position – literally, sometimes figurately – he wants – begs – himself to at least ask if you would want to have sex. He still had condoms left, hidden in the back of his bedside drawer at his home, and the last time you were aware, your roommate had some stashed in her dresser. He doesn’t want to push your buttons though; he’s happy if all you want to give him is a nice blowie for now, but an animalistic urge pulses through his veins, wanting more than anything to sink himself as deep as he can inside you.

As he looks back up at you, sitting politely between his legs, you meet his hazed glance with a warm smile.

“Sorry… Just sometimes can’t get over how big you are.”

You really were too much sometimes.

A part of him – the same part that is too scared to bring up sex – wants to see if you would be willing to get off on his thigh, or his covered cock. He’s unsure how aroused you get by getting him off, but the wouldn’t be against the idea of helping you just as you have been with him.

Your tongue dances around his tip, licking up the pebbles of cum that bead from the head, just the way you’ve learned he likes it, and you slowly start to sink down, feeling his body quiver under your warm touch as soft whimpers begin to escape through his bitten ruby lips. He’s never too sure where to put his hands; sometimes he keeps them by his side, tightly gripping the sheets until his knuckles are white, and other times he pulls and tugs at his hair while the other gently caresses your arm.

You might admit one day, but you like it when he knows that slight bit of affection when your mouth is filled with his cock, especially when he spits out doting admiration such as, “Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”; “Doing so well, gorgeous,” and, “Going to make me cum, pet… Fuck, I’m—“, and you never have a moment to register before he’s spurting thick sheets down your throat, his hips arching and cock twitching, trying to push the orgasm as much as he could.

Over time you’ve learned small things that get a quick reaction out of him, like sucking deeply at his tip, your tongue flicking and massaging and licking the beads of cum that dribble down his head, and massaging his balls, just as he taught you. You’ve caught yourself plenty of times peeking an eye open to watch his head knocked back, and mouth parted in a deep, satisfied moan. You’ve even tested waters, trailing your lips down to suck lightly, letting your tongue flicker over the sensitive skin, humming in satisfaction as Harry let’s out a muffled “Fuck!” into his sleeve.

You’ve also learned that he unknowingly gives away subtle hints for when he starts getting close, whether it’s his moans increasing in intensity, his legs squirming and thrashing around the sheets, the way he starts being a little more demanding in his requests, asking to suck harder, go deeper, and even acting a little brave and clutching your hair, just so he has something to hold onto when his clenched knot releases, and he falls back onto the bed, slipping profanities and groans of your name, and his thick release coats your tongue, and down passed your chin.

You never would have expected how clingy he would be after an orgasm, but you’ve gotten used to him reaching out and pulling you on top of him, holding to you close as he regains his breath. With your ear splayed on his chest, you listen to his breathing eradicate, and how his heart is slamming like fists against his ribs, and often times when he would remain conscious afterwards, whispering in your ear how good you  made him feel, how no one has ever made him cum that hard – and that quick, shamelessly – when his schedule has been sporadic and chaotic, it’s normal for him to fall into a deep sleep, you still stuck underneath his grip.

*

The next morning, after being put under strict rules the day before to not eat anything 8 hours prior to surgery, you were sent into a mild panic when you realized you ingested Harry’s semen like a soft drink only six hours before.

“Does cum count?! Should I tell them?!”

No Google searches would give you an answer.

Harry pulls on a dark hoodie and beanie, watching from your living room as you paced anxiously around the kitchen, your phone shoved so far into your face he’s moments away from calling a Optometrist appointment.

“Okay, it says here…okay big words. It says, when you’re put under anesthetics, your body’s reflexes are temporarily stopped, and if my stomach has food in it, there’s a risk of vomiting or re..gurgitation… Harry, what’s ‘regurgitation’?”

“So, worst case scenario pet, you will vomit my semen during surgery. Are you ready to go?”

No, you weren’t. He nearly had to drag you out of the house like a child refusing to go to school. For the remainder of the drive you stayed silent, ignoring Harry’s attempts at failed comic relief, joking about all the dumb shit you would be saying once you came to after surgery, and how he is going to tape it all and send it to Niall, and his family.

“Don’t say anything about the semen in your stomach, love.” He whispers in your direction, knocking his arm lightly against yours. “It’d be funny if you did, but please don’t.”

After what felt close to an eternity waiting in the waiting room, a nurse peeks her head out of the door and calls your name. You hand over your hoodie to Harry and hesitantly lean in, his arms pulling you tightly to his chest.

“I’ll be there when you wake up, darling.” His voice felt comforting and warm, and you held onto it as you walked back with the nurse down the hall and into an unsettling dim lit room. You were greeted with a warm smile and put in a chair; you weren’t seated for no longer than three minutes before you felt a poke at the crease of your forearm, and you were instantly pulled under.

*

He never intended on being your caregiver for the duration of your recovery, hoping highly your roommate would plan her trip home for any other week, but there’s only so much you can do what all other flights are booked.

If he wasn’t in the studio, he was hand-feeding you pudding and mashed potatoes, hoping your stomach would settle enough to accept the food so you could take your pain killers, but with the limited food you could eat – on top of the powerful narcotics – it was no surprise to him when you barely made it to the bathroom in time to vomit the few things you had in your system.

You had mentioned it to him before about your bottom two teeth being impacted and laying close to a nerve, and the odds of the nerve being fiddled with during surgery were high, which left you with a throbbing, agonizing pain that ran up your ears, and a dwindling appetite.

You needed to eat to take medicine, but the medicine made you nauseous, so you didn’t want to eat, which caused you to run to the bathroom at least once a day. You had decided to forgo the pain meds, saying you will “handle it like the men do”, but that only resulted in you sobbing into your pillow, begging for anything to take the pain away.

“This is what the surgeon meant by mild discomfort, hm?” He brushed your hair back as you rested in his lap, sipping on a protein smoothie he had made. “Wasn’t joking about hitting those impacted nerves. Only would happen to you pet.”

It was a long week nevertheless, and it was another before the throbbing finally subsided, and you were finally back on your feet by the time Harry was packing his bags for Jamaica.

“It’s only two months,” he grins from the foot of his bed, stuffing his suitcase with shorts. “Won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Two months, Harold. Months. 60 days. What am I supposed to do in those 60 days, huh? Work? School?”

“I’d hope so, pet.” He peeks up to see you lying face down in his bed, ass sticking straight up like a toddler. “I’ll bring you some souvenirs. How about an I Love Jamaica hoodie that’ll go well with your blood-stained London one?”

He hears a mumble coming from his sheets, and he can already picture the deep pout that’s settling on your face.

“What’d you say?”

“I said, you’ll probably find some cute Jamaican girl to suck you off while you’re away.”

It takes everything in him to not snort at your remark. If that’s what has you so worked up, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do with you.

“And what’s wrong with the pretty little American I have right now?” He goes back and forth between his closet and bag, watching as you peek from your peripheral with your eyebrows knotted tightly. “Going to be too busy working to even consider finding someone else, and if I’m being honest, pet… Nobody’s lips can compare to yours.”

He’d be the dumbest piece of shit if he ever even considered finding someone else while he was away, and he knows it.

“Harry, you’re going to miss my birthday.”

That’s when he stops, because…she’s right. September 30th. He’ll be bunkered down in a studio while she drowns in text books and waitress tips.

“Shit, I—”

“The big 2-1—”

“I didn’t forget, don’t think I forgot—I just, there’s been a lot of deadlines and things keep slipping—”

“We’ll just have to celebrate extra hard when you get back, right?” She attempts a smile, but he can see the hurt lingering. “The roomy will be here anyway, so we’ll go out and get a few drinks or something.”

Harry doesn’t know where it comes from – some stored up courageous boost that simmers before igniting – and he jerks his head up to see you settled on your back, looking up at him perturbed in question at his expression, but he’s finally hit his breaking point. He has psyched himself up God knows how many fucking times, spinning between taking the shot or spending another night alone in question on why he hasn’t mucked up the sodding courage, so he can stop saying “what if”.

This isn’t how he wanted to do this, but judging by the somber look in your eye, and the way you fiddle with the strings of his Randy’s Donuts hoodie, he finally, after months, just lets it all free.

“After these two grueling months, if you haven’t found some other bloke, I want to take you out.”

Finally, he can breathe again.

“Take me out where?--”

“On a date, you doorknob.” He chuckles, flinging his suitcase closed and crawling over to you. “Been wanting that shitty date you were telling me about?”

He hasn’t seen you look at him this way before, and it both soothes and unsettles him. You reach out and take a hold of his hand, your fingers twisting his ruby ring in circles, and he watches you intrigued, but your silence fed him doubt that maybe this was all something you didn’t want, that maybe a blowie every few days was the path you felt safe, and anything passed that was skipping through boundary that you were keeping hidden and locked, out of sight and out of mind.

“This is probably the nicest way anyone has asked me out before,” you giggle, pulling off his ring and slipping it onto your thumb. Still too big. “I’d like that, yeah.”

He feels his heart begin to beat again and lets out a breath before twisting his hand back and taking a hold of yours.

“Yeah?”

“Been kind of waiting but…didn’t want to seem eager.”

Of course not.

*

He couldn’t keep you away the night before his early flight, but you were stubborn when it came to getting your way, but Harry had to admit that you had a pretty compelling way about yourself, and with every passing day, you grew harder and harder to say no to.

Although, he truly couldn’t think of a better way to spend his last night in LA with someone other than you.

Once it neared midnight, the two of you found each other back in his room, and you watched as he doubtfully went through his bags once more because, “Watch me, I’m going to land and text you that I forgot my toothbrush.”

“You can always share with Mitch,” you joke from his side of the bed. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Y’think so, pet? I can always knick yours—”

“No! This isn’t about me, don’t bring me into this!”

He eventually discarded his bag and crawled up beside you in bed, dramatically pushing you to your designated side with a sigh of, “Can’t wait for a whole two months without a bed hog.”

“You say that but by night three you’re going not be calling me telling me you miss me.”

“By night three I’ll probably have found myself cuddled up in bed with Mitch.”

You began to retort, but you knew nothing in the world could stand in the way of his love for Mitchell Rowland.

*

“Harry…are you awake?”

You poke the lump beside you, a gentle tap nonetheless, but you feel his body squirm and slowly turn to fall over on his back.

“The real question, pet, is why aren’t you being the big spoon like you promised?” He expels a sigh and dramatically swings his head around to find you through the dark, sitting up on your elbow. “How long have you been watching me? Have you been watching Twilight again?”

“No, the movies are shit compared to the books and you know that.”

You sidle up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder and feeling him pull his arm around yours, holding you closer his warmth. His breathing was even, and he gently rubbed up and down your arm with his fingers and kissed the side of your head.

“You ready to sleep now—”

“Harry,” it was nothing above a whisper, but it punched through the darkness and wrapped itself around his mouth and kissed him quietly. He laid there with you, feeling your hand trickle down passed his stomach and hang over the waistband of his underwear, before you let a finger tickle the dark hairs on his hips, and hesitantly slip inside. You felt his breath hitch, but he didn’t move to stop you. “You’re going to be gone for a while,” and the aching desire pulled at his heart, and just by the simple mutter of his name, the two of you shared the same alike thought that skimmed your fingertips over his softened length “If it’s okay with you.”

He’s astonished you would even think you would need his permission.

“We don’t have to do anything, pet. I’m fine right here.” And he is; he isn’t here to rush things. Hell, it took him close to two months to ask you out on a date. The last thing he knows to do with you is rush things.

“I brought condoms.”

It takes everything in him not to dart up and go running and rummaging through your overnight bag.

“I want to…before you leave. Won’t see you and…”

“Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean we have to—”

“I want to, my goodness you’re stubborn sometimes—calling me stubborn, jeez.” He cracks a smirk at your minor outbreak. That’s his girl. “I’ve seen your…I think I got the right condoms. I swear I stood in that aisle for twenty minutes contemplating every brand but… My hand is still down your pants, I’m sorry.”

“So talkative tonight, aren’t you, love?” The thudding in his chest shakes his breath, and he watches you intently through the dark for any sign of hesitance. “I want to if you want to, but I don’t need to.”

But boy does he want to.

“I want to, yeah.”

He’s imagined this moment far too many times, more times than he’s proud of, thinking out each detail and every touch and every sound and how from the beginning to the end would be so incredibly perfect, but now that he’s here with you, bare, beneath him, he realizes nothing could be more perfect than it is now. Any fantasy he’s manipulated in his fucked out mind can’t compare to actually holding on to you, and brushing his lips gently over yours, before the two of you finally give in and lock together.

Ever way he imagined you to taste, it was somehow better, and more.

He’s tender, and he doesn’t let his hold of you loosen. One hand rests behind your neck while the other holds your cheek, deepening his kiss as he feels you squirm beneath him. You press your hips up to meet his, begging for some relief between your legs.

“We can stop, if you’re unsure—”

“I’m okay, please I’m okay.” You bring your hand up to caress his forearm. “I want this, please.”

It’s in this moment, you reach up and clasp your hand around his neck, pulling him back down to seal his lips with yours, your hips impatiently rutting against his. And it’s with one more kiss, you feel his tip grace your entrance, and with a small thrust forward he begins to stretch you open, his lips never leaving yours. It burns, not like any burn from any previous male in your life, though you can say confidently most guys previously weren’t as well endowed as the man before you. He’s slow and gradual with his movements, learning you and all the ways he can make you quiver and gasp and cling onto him until you feel your body finally give in and let everything out in a wave of bliss, just like all the times you’ve done with him.

“You okay, love?—Christ, you feel good.” He loses himself for a moment, lost in the euphoria of your warmth. You’re tight, and fuck does it send him straight to heaven. He holds tight to your hips as he ruts harder into you, his head falling back as a deepened moan fell from his lips. “Shit, babe…You feel so good.”

Out of all the hands of men you have fallen into you, there was something about Harry that felt like a safe home. His words cascaded a dome of protection, and you knew in that moment when he thrusted once more into you, falling lightly and stifling his moans into your neck, that not an inch of his soul could do you any harm. You held him against your chest, your fingers wrapping tightly in his hair, and you threw your leg over his backside and held him as tight as you could as he pushed himself as far as he could into you, because not even chest to chest was close enough – and you wonder now how long he had been waiting for this.

“I-I’m close, baby—I’m close.” His voice is rough, and he wants so much to hold out, but he’s at the point of no return. “H-how many condoms were in the box?”

“Three—I think it came with thr—”

“You want to go again?” He’s choking on air, his lip falling between his teeth and before you have a chance to answer, his nails dig crescent moons into your hips, and his thrusts stall as his mouth falls open and he heaves one last groan before falling forward and filling the condom. “Fuck…Shit, fuck…I’m sorry…Go again?”

And he has the nerve to call you eager.

“Get me off first and I’ll take you up on the offer.” You lightly chuckle, untangling your legs from his. “You feel good, too, by the way. I like it.”

He huffs, kissing your shoulder. “It’s gonna be a long two months.”

He was right, but at least you had him for now.