#him nestling his face into her hand lives rent free in my mind

[itsmistyeyedbi]

All the times Zuri and Adam touch each other's faces, including almost touches (book 2)!

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[tulipfantasies]

night on the town ✩ n.romanoff

pairing; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary; a simple night on the town leads to the discoveration of pain and addiction.

characters; (mentions) og 6 and a woman named maria (not hill).

warnings; 16+ (just to be safe), use of alcohol and cigarettes, (mentions) underage smoking, (mentions) addiction, (mentions) natasha's past at the red room, (mild) swearing, (mild) jealous r, nat is ooc again, (minor) angst and fluff. 

my notes;  please, if any of the topics in bold make you uncomfortable or trigger you, do not read onwards. i don't want to upset anyone so consider it your warning. i don't think i like this one. can anyone spot the small pop culture reference??

word count; 2.6k ao3

A ‘simple night on the town’ turns into 1:04 am. 

The entire length of the streets of New York was bathed in a soft amber glow, all thanks to the street lights that were situated on every corner of the Avenues. 

Midtown, or at least the side you all find yourselves on, was eerily calm given the environment (and the atmosphere hidden on the inside) that was nestled amongst the usually busy streets.

No car horns were heard for miles on end.

For the middle of spring, the air was bitterly cold yet so freeing. In stark contrast to the air behind the secured doors, which was heavy and suffocating.

Tony, among one of his genius plans, had decided that you all deserved to take a break from your demanding and life-saving lives.

He described it as a ‘simple night out on the town’, but we all know that in Tony’s dictionary, that was an excuse for him to get shit-faced. 

So, naturally, you all tagged along to keep him out of trouble and to have a little fun yourselves.

Who could pass up a free drink and the chance to unwind anyway?

Now, none of the team members that tagged along were anywhere in sight except for those who were strictly keeping sober or physically couldn’t get drunk.

The sensible ones.

The only remaining ones were around the table in the VIP booth that Tony rented in the club.

2:45 am.

It’s been 1 hour and 41 minutes since you last saw her dancing with some brunette, who has definitely drunk more than the legal requirement.

Desperate.

1 hour and 41 minutes of scanning through the hot and heavy crowd in search of a single sign that she was still dancing with the brunette or getting another drink at the bar.

None. 

“Y/n? Where are you going?” Steve’s voice calls out over the booming music as he watches you snatch your phone from off the table impatiently.

“Need fresh air.” You reply hastily before throwing a small smile over your shoulder and in his direction.

“She’s going to find Nat,” Clint’s voice could just about be heard over the music as he was talking to Steve and you were walking further away. “Like always.”

The music was practically deafening to the ears; the last thing on a drunken mind was the volume of the music.

Sex and more alcohol always are. 

You were just silently thanking yourself that you had entered the club with a lot more self-control and had only ended up getting tipsy this time around.

Unlike Tony who was completely shit-faced.

Pushing through the thick sea of plastered couples (who were dancing in a way that was even too much for you) was a task in itself but you finally managed to reach the front doors to the club.

Soft, yet bright, light was emitted in your direction causing you to wince. 

You let out a large sigh of relief the further away you stumble from the raging nightclub, random shot glass in hand, and into the bitter air that pierced the exposed skin on your arms and legs.

A small shiver runs down your spine.

“Fancy seeing you here,” A sultry voice brings your, slightly blurred, attention away from the empty shot glass in your hand and toward the direction where it came from.

The dimly lit alleyway. “Got tired of being in there?”

“Nat!” You exclaim in relief as you slowly make your way over toward the alleyway. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you for like the past hour.”

The closer you reach her, the more of her outline you can make out.

She’s leaning up against the masonry while nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila (or vodka, it was too dark to make it out) in one hand and a lit cigarette in between her index finger and middle finger on her other.

A dangerous combo for a dangerous woman.

“I’ve been out here the entire time, detka.”

“Oh? With that brunette who was all over you like some desperate-”

“Careful now,” She cuts your words off with a smug grin and a tsk sound. “You had a lot to drink, detka?”

“Uh, yeah, a few but I’m not drunk like Tony.” You reply as you make a move to lean up against the wall opposite to her.

No other words were spoken as she raised the cigarette to her lips to take a long drag. 

Drag after drag, she slowly puffs the lethal smoke out towards the right of her while she makes sure that not once does she take her emerald gaze from off of you.

It was an intense gaze.

“But that’s beside my point, who the hell was that brunette dancing with you?” You ask abruptly with a raised brow. She chuckles in amusement at your clear jealousy. “Because she was getting way too cosy with you.”

“No one important, just someone who drunkenly came up and started dancing with me,” Natasha replies as if it never bothered her because it didn’t bother her. “Think she said her name was Maria or something.” 

Maria. “Hm, you seemed to get pretty handsy with her, do you like her?”

“Where’s all this jealousy coming from, Y/n/n?” She asks in an amused tone which is followed by a chuckle. Oh, she was enjoying this. “To be fair, it’s amusing seeing you go all green over some random girl, especially one I don’t know or have an interest in.”

“Y’know, I’d rather not discuss it.” You say, brushing off her question and ignoring her comment as you turn to face away from her so she can’t see you roll your eyes.

There’s a pregnant pause before you clear your throat and look back toward her with a slightly softened gaze.

The cigarette remains firmly pressed in between her fingers.

“Have you always smoked?” You ask, to change the subject, as you fold your arms over your chest.

Natasha doesn't reply straight away but takes another drag.

She drops the remaining bit of her cigarette onto the ground so that she can stamp harshly on it, with the sole of her shoe, just to make sure that it’s out.

“Mhm,” she hums with a shrug of her shoulders. “Just kept it to myself, I guess.”

Taking your bottom lip in between your upper front teeth, you nervously chew on it as she leans forward to slip the shot glass from out of your hand and into hers.

Without any sounds, she lets the clear liquid trickle out of the bottle and into the shot glass before gently handing it back to you.

You bring the rim of the shot glass to your lips before knocking it back in one go. Straight tequila. 

“Oh, god, that’s tequila.” You state in a strained voice and with a noticeable grimace as the liquid burns the back of your throat.

Natasha chuckles at the sight of your grimace before smiling softly as you clear your throat. “You okay there, detka?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You reply before sighing and reaching up to give your temple a quick but firm rub. “You know smoking is bad for your lungs, right? And besides, what are you out here drinking tequila straight for?”

With her fingers curled around the neck of the tequila bottle, she brings the rim of the bottle up to her lips intending to tip it back to take another swig.

But she doesn’t. 

“You only get one chance in life, detka,” she replies nonchalantly, ignoring your second question, before finally taking a swig of the alcohol. “I’ve learnt that the hard way.”

Given what she was forced to witness and trained into doing while growing up, it made some sense for her to be wishing away her life like this.

That amount of trauma is often immovable and can only be numbed by the effects of drugs and alcohol.

The Red Room raised those girls into being their bloodthirsty puppets, the ones who were forced to believe that they had no place in the world and yet here Natasha is, with her foot in the world, throwing it all away just to numb her feelings.

You never really know what you’ve got until it's too late.

The thought of going through what she had growing up made your skin crawl.

“How long have you been smoking for?” You ask cautiously as you stare at the redhead who lets out a long sigh.

From that sigh alone, you can tell it wasn’t a habit that she had recently picked up. 

“Listen, I didn’t come out to get interrogated about my unhealthy habits, so just drop it, alright?” She defends herself before she extends the neck of the bottle back over to you.

You decline with a shake of your head.

One shot of tequila is enough. You can’t stomach anymore tonight.

“How long have you been smoking, Nat?”

She lets out a defeated sigh. “Not sure. Since I was, like, 14 or 15.”

You would say that you’re surprised to hear that she’s been smoking so young but by the looks of it, smoking has become an unhealthy coping mechanism for the shit life she’s got.

You just wish it wasn’t her that was suffering like this.

“A cigarette is the least of my worries.” She replies with a shrug before closing her eyes to relive the memory.

“They drugged me with all kinds of things in the Red Room so I added to it by stealing a cigarette from a packet in a guard’s pocket. I can still remember getting in trouble now.”

Silence comes from her end as her gaze flickers down to the squashed cigarette on the floor before glancing back up at you, who peacefully analyses her.

She can’t stop.

“And it’s turned into a habit that you now can’t break.”

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way.” 

“Does smoking and drinking like this at least make you feel better?” You ask curiously but cautiously.

When it comes to Natasha, you have to choose your words carefully.

Natasha doesn’t let her guard down around anyone yet here she was, in a dingy alleyway, letting you see the regret and pain shining in her eyes.

No, it doesn’t.

Your heart aches for her; all the cigarettes and alcohol that she’s taken over the years (outside and inside of you knowing her) haven’t numbed the pain in the way she hoped it would.

It just put her at ease for a certain amount of time.

“Oh, Tasha.” 

She doesn’t say anything else but instead, her gaze flickers away from your eyes (which she always finds herself lost in) and down to your soft-shaped lips.

So kissable. 

She could practically taste the bitterness and sweetness of the alcohol on the tip of her tongue.

At that moment, she knew that she wanted, no, needed to kiss you more than ever. 

Without any hesitation, she takes a step toward you so she can place her hands on your hips (despite still holding onto the bottle) so she can gently tug your back away from the masonry.

Her blurry gaze rests on your lips, memorising the shape and softness of them before she dips her head down slightly.

Her lips were inches away from yours. 

“Nat-”

“-Shut up and let me kiss you.” She growled before pulling you in closer so that her hot breath was fanning against your lips. 

The moment her lips crash against yours, your hands instinctively reach up to comb through her soft red locks.

She tastes like 5 different alcohols and nicotine all in one go; normally you’re not into that but, right now, you crave her. 

You didn’t want her to break the kiss any time soon but she did and instead of moving away from you, she rested her forehead against hers.

The both of you were panting softly.

“Are you addicted to them?” You whisper as your hands drop from her hair and down to cup her rosy cheeks. “The way they make you feel numb or how they make you act?”

Her forehead drops against yours as her head hangs low and the warmth her body was radiating disappears as she takes a step back from you.

A small nod confirms everything you need to know.

She’s addicted.

She stares at you as she extends her arm out so that she can carelessly throw the empty bottle of tequila as far away from her as possible.

Your grip on your shot glass loosens so the shattering noise rippling through the alleyway increases just like the pile of glass shards.

“I–I don’t know how to stop.” 

The alcohol in her system has weakened the walls she put up for her protection to the point where they were trembling.

“You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

You take a short step toward her to go back to gently cupping her cheeks in your soft hands.

She leans into your touch as a thick singular tear rolls down her cheek. 

Here she was, standing in front of you, looking vulnerable and broken. And boy, did the people of her past break her.

“I want to stop. I do but I can’t.” She admits in a soft tone as if she is worried about other people hearing her. “I’ve tried so many times.”

The glass shards crunch under your footing as you drop your touch on her cheeks to wrap your arms around her torso.

She instantly wraps her arms around you in return. 

“I promise you, I am going to help you out of this.” You whisper your promise as she buries her head into the crook of your neck.

You’re wearing the perfume that drives her crazy.

It felt as if your promise was empty but the determination flooding through your system tells you that you will not let it be empty.

You are going to help her through this, like it or not.

“Let’s go get some water so we can sober up, yeah?” You whisper as she pulls away to give you a nod of agreement. “You’re stuck with me, now, Nat.”

“There’s no one I would rather be stuck with, detka.” She whispers back as she slips her hand in between yours to squeeze it before following as you both sluggishly walk out of the alleyway.

The alleyway that you stood in, kissed in and where she bit the bullet and admitted defeat. 

The streets remain silent as the two of you stumble down them, hand in hand.

The bitter air no longer bothered you or the exposed skin that you were showing, not when you were wrapped underneath Natasha’s arm. 

“Thank you,” She says, after silence, as you two stumble onto the corner of the street to call a taxi. Thankfully there was one in the distance. “For not judging me and sticking by me. Even in my darkest times.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Natasha.” You reply as a taxi pulls up in front of you. You both climb in and mutter your destination to the driver before you turn back to look at her. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, because I’d do anything for the people that I love. And it’s safe to say that I’m in love with you.”

She smiles softly at your, slightly drunken, confession before bringing your hand up to her lips so she can press a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist and then against your palm. 

“I love you too, detka,” she whispers as she moves her head to catch your lips in for a sweet but short-lived kiss. “More than anything in this world. I love you.”

[waiting-for-motivation]

cottage in the woods

summary: Santiago has to rest for a day because his back and knees hurt. He feels old and his mind is filled with self-doubt. Can his girlfriend convince him she will stay with him no matter what?

pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

warnings: fluff, angst, age gap, self-doubts

words: 737

a/n: this fic is based on the gif and only this perfect gif hehe

(btw I would love to write more for santi :)

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

The boys are gone on a hiking trip, climbing the next mountain. Santiago stayed behind in the little cottage they rented. His back as well as knees are hurting from the last three hiking trips. He feels old and needs to rest.

Although he told his girlfriend many times to join the boys today, she stayed behind as well. (Y/n) saw the pain in his eyes this morning, which is not only coming from his body but also his mind. There are doubts bothering him, and she wants to soothe them.

With his eyes closed and a pillow under his knees, Pope dozes on the comfortable couch. The fire crackles away in the fireplace. He should feel at peace in this calm environment, but his thoughts wander from one terrible place to another. Why is (Y/n) still with him? He is too old, too fucked up and definitely not enough for her.

(Y/n) enters the living room with two mugs and a steamy teapot. There is a smile on her lips at the sight of her boyfriend half asleep. His hair is messed up, and his shirt crumpled, nevertheless (Y/n) wants nothing more than to cuddle him right now. So she carefully sets the mug and teapot on the side table. Then she takes a seat on Santis lap, both her thighs resting next to his hips. Her right hand takes Santis, while the other wanders to his chest, caressing his abdomen.

“Hello there“, Santi whispers with a dreamy smile on his lips. Slowly, he opens one eye and then the other. His free hand grabs (Y/n) by the waist, his thumb fondling with the hem of her shirt.

“Are you feeling better?“, (Y/n) asks with a soft voice and leans forward, now laying fully on top of her beloved boyfriend. Their foreheads and noses touch. Both have smiles on their lips, happy to have the other so close.

“Right now? Yes“, Santiago laughs and finally connects their lips in a passionate kiss. His hand wanders under (Y/n)s shirt and starts to caress her warm skin. Their lips and tongues move in sync. The kiss turns into a make out session.

As Santi moves one of his knees in between (Y/n)s legs, he groans in pain. The kiss breaks apart, and he rests his head back on his pillow, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath and his adams apple moves almost anxiously.

“Santi? What‘s wrong? Are you in pain?“, (Y/n) asks concerned. She sits up and moves a hand to Santis cheek. He nestles closer to the warmth of her hand. Then there is a small tear running from his eye and touching (Y/n)s fingers.

“Please don‘t leave me“, Pope sobs and opens his eyes to look at his love with a pleading expression. The confusion is visible on (Y/n)s face. “I‘m old, too old for you. My back and knees are killing me.“

“Santi…no….I love you. I would never leave you“, (Y/n) promises as she leans down to kiss her love one more time. The kiss is salty but still lovely. And it‘s a promise for Santiago that his girlfriend would never break up with him just because his back and knees hurt. She loves him too much for that.

Santi sits up, now wrapping both his arms around (Y/n) and deepening the kiss. His doubts are gone, happiness and relief taking its place.

“You want some tea? I made your favorite, nordic blueberry with a spoon of honey“, (Y/n) whispers against her lovers lips. Nodding, Santi places a kiss on his girlfriends forehead. He takes both mugs from the side table while (Y/n) fills them with his favorite tea.

“I have no idea what I did to deserve you, honey“, Santi sighs after his first sip of tea. Both sets aside their mugs and then cuddle on the couch by the fireplace. After some time they nod off, but not for long.

The boys return early in the afternoon with loud laughter and dirty boots. They stop in their tracks as Santi and (Y/n) look over the back of the sofa, their hair messy and with sleepy eyes. Frankie only raises an eyebrow. He assumed the couple would have done more on their day off than just napping on the sofa.

taglist: @lightning-wolffe @gwenebear @caswinchester2000

[angelamajiki]

[ study date - part two ]

PARING: Bully! Yandere! Hawks x Reader x Bully! Yandere! Dabi

CW: quirkless college au, yandere, noncon/dubcon, mindbreak, dacryphilia, boot licking, boot humping, humiliation, degradation, cum eating, spanking, physical abuse, verbal abuse, scumbag dabihawks

AN: finally part two is here!! sorry about the long wait. mind the tags and enjoy!!

PART ONE

The situation was all too suspicious. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you knew the two of them had something to do with it. They always have something conniving up their sleeves, inventing new ways to torment you.

Not less than a day ago did you receive that dreaded phone call, and of course, the pair of them were there to witness your breakdown because of it. Because of your failing grade in chemistry, your scholarship was revoked which meant that you lost your housing privileges for the campus. And those two seemed all too happy to watch you crumble and sob in front of them like a child.

“Sounds like you're down on your luck, princess. What's a girl to do?”

Touya was all too pleased about the situation, the smug bastard. A warm hand made a place for itself on your lower back as it rubbed circles of faux sympathy. Sobs dribbled from your mouth as his hands moved lower to grip your hips from behind.

“Now, now, Touya. Don't tease her like that.” Keigo tutted, leaning against the wall next to the two of you. “Perhaps we coulda let our girlfriend come stay with us.” He sighed dramatically, quirking his brow at you before looking away.

So that was it. They wanted you to grovel at their feet and beg for mercy if you wanted their help, just like last time.

“Too bad we don't have one, doll. Ya made yourself pretty clear that you just aren't interested in us. Such a shame, we coulda been a real big help, ya know.”

Touya patted you on the back before walking off down the hall with Keigo, leaving your tear-stricken face all alone.

“W...Wait!” It came out more desperate than you could have hoped. The two of them stopped but refused to turn to look at you. The silence was deafening. “I’ll go out with the both of you. I'll be your girlfriend.”

Admission alone should have been good enough for them, but your constant denial had left them greedy for more.

“And just how do we know you're not looking to mooch off us, babe?”

Rats, they were right. You had no way to prove you wouldn't just use them, abuse them, and lose them.

“Touya, I thought I said to stop teasing princess.” Keigo chuckled, turning to look at you with narrowed eyes. “Of course, we’ll go out with you; nothing would make us happier to call you our girl.”

Taking your hand, he helped you up off the bench and swiped the tears from your eyes. Humiliation flushed your face as you struggled to look anywhere but his hawk-like eyes.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s go clean out your dorm and head back to our place.”

»»————-　　————-««

Back in your apartment, the boys made quick of boxing up your things and loading them into Keigo’s pick-up. The poor distraught thing you were, the bathroom is where you holed yourself up and cried your heart out. The fact that you had to stoop as low as to live with your bullies to survive? And you thought you couldn't be more humiliated than the last time they offered helo. It’ll be temporary; you tried to convince yourself. You'll stay with them a few weeks and be on your merry way, finding someone else to stay with. Hell, you’ll couch surf if you have to. Anything was better than staying with those demons.

“Hey, doll!” Touya rapped his fingers on the door thrice before opening up to your crying form. “Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears. Your boyfriends are here to help.” His wolfish grin said otherwise.

“Bird brain and I finished packing your shit. Let's hit the road.”

A rough hand yanked you up from the floor, tugging you along. A yelp flew from your mouth before you could stop it as you pushed up against the sink, pinned in by Touya’s hips on yours.

“On second thought, I can't let my pretty girl feel so down, now can I? Let me give you something that’ll cheer ya up.”

A hard tent nestled its way up your skirt as he ground his hips against you.

“Let your man take care of you, huh? I’ll give you something good to cry about.”

Keigo was content to watch from the doorway as his partner continued to make you squirm under him.

“Besides, we haven't discussed payment. Rent ain’t free, princess.”

God, were these men cruel to you. You can't really expect any less from the men who were content to bully you in the first place.

“All my money was from the scholarship; I don’t-”

A hearty laugh came from the blonde, eyes narrowing in on your pinned form.

“Who said anything about money?” He quipped, sauntering over to you and took your chin in his hand. “You can pay us back with your obedience. We want a well-behaved slut that we can come home to, not some brat we have to take kicking and screaming.”

What choice did you have? They had you pinned in a corner, like a mouse caught by two feral cats who were just a bit too hungry to have any kind of patience to play games.

“I-I understand.” You swallowed, nodding in Keigo’s palm.

“Really now.” Touya drawled out, taking Keigo’s spot in the doorway. It was apparent they didn't want you to bolt on them. “I’m not convinced. You gotta prove yourself to us first, little girl.”

The bare mattress creaked under his weight as he took a seat in your room, legs spread as he motioned you towards him with his finger. Keigo, although reluctantly, let go of your face and locked both doors as he took a seat in the corner, seemingly content to watch the display.

A throaty chuckle left the man as you stood in front of him.

“Strip.”

The command left you shivering under his predatory gaze, a low whistle coming from his mouth as he fucked you with his eyes.

“Kei, put on some music.”

“Yes, sir.” He purred, using his phone for tunes and snatching yours from your purse before pocketing it in his jacket. Girls, Girls, Girls by Mötley Crüe filled the walls of your dorm, both men gratified by watching your little dance for them.

First went your shirt, tossed off onto the floor as your face flushed with shame. Tears welled in your eyes before you screwed them shut while swaying to the music.

“Hey! Eyes open and on me, little girl.” Touya snapped, spanking the side of your ass as punishment. You hiccuped, sucking in a breath to hold back the tears. The stress of the situation weighed you down, bursting you at the seams as you openly sobbed while removing your bra. Music blaring and laughs all around from Touya; you looked to Keigo for help; he always seemed to be on your side. Head thrown back against the wall, he jerked himself to the sound of your cries, winking and whistling as you looked back at him.

“Hurry it up; you're not very good at dancing, doll. You're stiff as a board.”

“She’s not the only one who's stiff.”

Cackles and guffaws filled the room, piercing your ears to the point where you thought you would go deaf at the next sound of their voices. Mindlessly, your clothes were haphazardly thrown off before you crumpled into a ball on the floor, shaking and sobbing.

“Aww, is baby having a bad day? Come to daddy.”

Touya helped you up off the floor before placing your bare cunt atop his left boot. “Why don't you relieve some stress, huh?”

The boot jerked under you, pressing up against your clit as you yelped. Getting the memo, you started to grind your hips down against his boot. Your cries quelled as you rocked your hips into a steady rhythm, biting your lip when you felt pleasure began to pool in your gut. How depraved were you? Getting off on your bully's boot while the other one got off to watching you. It was enough to make you sick, forcing you to cling to Touya’s thigh and rest your forehead there. A collection of moans and classic rock music blared in your room, bouncing off the walls so loudly that it made you even hazier.

As much as you wanted to deny it, the man had a point. You might as well submit and let yourself feel good; there's no getting out of it. Gasps and moans left your drooling mouth as you ground your hips on the tip of his boot with enthusiasm, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure slowly crescendoing in your core.

“Atta, girl.” Touya growled, gripping your hair from the scalp as he made eye contact with you. “Look at when you cum.”

Incoherent responses left your lips as you began to cry again, only that it was from pleasure this time. He continued to sustain eye contact as he fisted his cock, letting go of your hair in lieu of sticking his fingers in your mouth and choking you with them. Warbled cries fell onto his fingers as your hips increased in speed, thighs sputtering and shaking as you came close to creaming yourself on his boot.

“Cum on my boot, slut.”

His cock was aimed at your open mouth as you grunted and moaned, eyes cloudy as they rolled back into your bed. You came with a cry, squirting all over his patent-leather boot as your body shook with the sheer force of your orgasm.

Touya was not too far behind you, moaning your name as he shot his seed into your waiting mouth, covering your nose after finishing.

Like the obedient whore they needed you to be, you swallowed. His foot kicked up into you, knocking you off his leg.

“Disgusting. Clean up your mess, bitch.”

Nodding, a small whimper left your mouth as you began to lick your juices off his boot. Kitten licks and long strokes alike made their way around the leather, whining when he would shove his foot roughly in your face at times.

“Y’know, I’m still not convinced, sweetheart,” Keigo called out from behind you, taking a fist full of hair in his clutch as he pulled you up from the floor. “Beg for my forgiveness, and I’ll know you’re not trying to run a game on us.”

With a still tight reign on your hair, he threw you to the bed face down, ass up while discarding his own clothes. A harsh spank thwacked on your ass as he gripped the reddening flesh right after.

“Damn this ass is gonna be the death of me. Ain't that right, Touya?”

“Sure is; it's all she's good for.”

Neither of them really meant those nasty things they spewed at you, but it just felt too good at the moment to pass up seeing you cry. The sooner you learn that submission is the way to their hearts, the easier you'll have it. Sure, you were a whore, but you were their whore.

“Hope this pussy’s ready for a pounding cause Daddy is coming in.” He chuckled, groaning as he sank his length into your tight, unprepared vice. Whimpering and squirming beneath him, you attempted to grip the bare mattress for purchase as you felt the sting and stretch of his cock thrusting inside you. The pain wasn't terrible, but it was still there. You wiggled your hips, hoping to get some friction before another spank was administered.

“I haven't heard any begging yet.”

“P-Please fuck me, Keigo.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for, sweetheart.”

Oh? Oh.

“Please let me be your girlfriend! Please, I need to be yours; I need you!”

A slew of curses flew out of him as he pinned your hips down, thrusting deep and slow inside you. The pace was agonizingly slow as you tried to move your hips.

“Please, please, please!” you babbled. “Keigo, Touya. Let me be your girlfriend; let me be your obedient whore. I need to be yours!”

Humiliation hardly fazed you anymore as you let yourself, babbling and crying out begs and pleas for your two bullies.

Keigo happily increased his thrusts, pounding into you as a man possessed. Growls and snarls spat from his mouth as he savored the way your tight pussy fluttered around his painfully hard cock.

“Such a good girl for us, good girl.” The blonde moaned, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of your neck. He lapped at the sweat there, leaving bite marks and blood for you to find later.

Your moans and cries were music to their ears, the most hypnotic melody they had ever heard. Touya stroked himself off in the corner, pleased with your earlier performance and giving his partner space to hit the nail into the coffin.

You, on the other hand, were being fucked out of your mind as Keigo dicked you down good. Good enough to make you forget your worries, your troubles, your life ripping apart at the seams for even just a moment. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled your senses as you felt the pleasure come at you full speed.

“T-Tell me you love me, that you love us.”

“Oh, someone’s feeling bold, birdie.”

Strings of “I love you”s flowed freely from your mouth as you chased your high, wanting to feel pure and utter relief, albeit it is just for a moment.

You came with a cry, spasming on his cock as he came deep inside you. A bright, white sensation filled your senses as you grasped onto your clarity for as long as you, not wanting to come down from your high.

Toned arms rested on either side of you before enveloping you in a warm hug.

“Good job, princess.”

A sweet whisper filled your ears before a kiss was placed on your cheek. Silence fell over the room, save for all of your panting and breathing. In your post-orgasm clarity, you couldn't help but realize something.

Wasn't Touya’s father dean of the school?

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - The Beginning

A/N: You all need to blame both @storiesofsvu and @berniesilvas for this! I want woodsman!Sonny to be real so fucking bad, so that he can sweep me off my feet. Anyways, this covers the Cabin in the Woods square in @storiesofsvu fall bingo!

I don’t mention it in the story, but in my mind, this takes place before he’s in SVU, even before Homicide. I have him mid-late 20s.

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1330

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

(gif by @dailypeterscanavino)

When Sonny was a kid, his parents would take him and his sisters to their vacation home; a homey cabin nestled in the New Hampshire woods. There were multiple cabins there, spread out over the land, close enough to be considered neighbors, but far enough for privacy. They had basic appliances—a fridge/freezer, a stove/oven, a sink, a bathtub, a shower, a toilet—but everything else was wooden. Dom Sr. eventually put a tv there, just in the master bedroom, so he could keep up with news and sports while they vacationed.

Sonny always loved the little community up there. Everyone was always so nice to him and his family. Which is why, after dealing with atrocities while on the force, he decided to retreat from city life. He hated being surrounded by monsters every day; sure not everyone in New York City was a creep or predator or murderer, but after seeing so much of the city’s underbelly, he was fed up.

He asked his parents if he could move to the New Hampshire house permanently. They would still be able to vacation there, of course—it was a massive, four-bedroom cabin—but he just needed to get away. He agreed to pay for everything, and he still had his cell phone so they could contact him if needed. It didn’t take much convincing for his parents to agree.

It was definitely an adjustment going from the heart of NYC to becoming a woodsman. Sonny grew his hair and beard out and bought plaid jackets—the things he saw woodsman do on tv when he was younger. The cabin needed work, especially clearing up the outside foliage, giving him some sense of purpose. And if he needed food, there were the local markets close by and a grocery store about an hour away.

The locals all remembered the scrawny little boy who spent his summers running around the woods with his sisters, and they all gladly took him under their wings. After Sonny hacked back the overgrowth, Mr. Piper taught him how to do controlled burn piles. Mr. and Mrs. Willis came over soon after, helping him measure out, then build an elevated garden. Mrs. Willis taught him how to make nutrient soil, while Mr. Willis gave him seeds, and taught him how to care for each and every vegetable.

When Sonny got the cabin, he inherited the small apple orchard, too. His pa taught him how to care for the trees while his ma taught him recipes for apple pie, cider, tarts, jams. He noticed how much he relied on bees to pollinate, and Ms. Walters, the local honey provider, taught him which wildflowers were 1) regional to them and 2) attracted bees. Sonny built another elevated garden, this time on his own, and filled it with wildflower seeds Ms. Walters gifted him with.

There was a creek nearby, and one day, Sonny found Mr. Adams fishing in it. Sonny proposed a deal; Mr. Adams gives Sonny an old rod that he wouldn’t miss, and Sonny would teach Mr. Adams the best way to clean and cook the fish. Mr. Adams agreed and gave him a sturdy rod. As Sonny went about cleaning and deboning the fish they had caught, he complimented Mr. Adams on his herb garden.

“Herb gardens aren’t the hardest thing to manage,” he said with a smile, and gifted Sonny with starters for every herb he could think of— “as payment for this phenomenal fish recipe!”

Third elevated garden up and running, Sonny fell into woodsman life easily. His muscles grew, though he was still thin; he was lean, though, not lanky anymore. Any questions he had, the locals had answers for. He grew his own food, fished his own fish, and bought (or traded) meat from the local hunters. Soon enough, the locals were calling him, asking for help with something or other. And Sonny loved all of it.

 *********************

During the weekly Autumn Farmer’s Market, Sonny rented a little booth. He had brought multiple apple pies, tarts, bottles of cider, apple chips, packages of herbs, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, and everything else he had in abundance…that would also fit on only two tables. When he first started harvesting, he would give most away, or trade for other goods, but he also needed to make money some way. So, the extras ended up here.

He was in the middle of chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Willis about how his gardens were coming along when he saw you. He froze halfway through a sentence, his jaw hanging open, prompting the Willis’s to turn. Mrs. Willis looked back at Sonny, a knowing smile on her face.

“She just moved back in with her parents; she had been living in New York City for a little bit, trying to make a life there, but, well, as she said herself, she’s not a city girl,” Mrs. Willis explained.

Before Sonny could respond—or tear his eyes from you—you glanced over at him. You smiled warmly, and his heart beat faster. When you started coming towards his little booth, he scrambled to clean himself up, brushing his hair back off his face, smoothing down his shirt, trying to wipe some dirt off the front. Mrs. Willis gave him a smile before looping her arm with her husband and pulling him away.

“Hello! I’m new here, but I must say, your booth is probably my favorite,” you said, still smiling at him.

It took him a moment for his brain to process your words. “O-oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“All of your food looks delicious. I mean, look at this squash! It’s bigger than my head!” you announced, giggling.

He had never heard anything more magical in his life. “Do you like pie? I can give you a slice,” he replied nervously.

“How much?” you asked. You loved both apples and pie, and his looked amazing.

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s on the house; a sweet treat for a pretty woman.”

You felt your face heat and you smiled shyly as he unwrapped a pie and cut into it. He cut off a generous piece, and you opened your mouth to complain about taking it for free, but he brushed you off, placing the piece on a plate and handing it to you. You took a bite, and you swear your taste buds were dancing; it was the most delicious thing you ever tasted before, the sweetness and the tartness balanced perfectly.

You chewed thoughtfully before swallowing it. “That is the best damn pie I’ve ever had. Ever. But please, share with me, Mr.…?”

“Call me Sonny, please. Sonny Carisi,” he replied, a goofy smile pulling across his lips.

You gave him your name, then offered him a bite. You both stood and chatted while exchanging bites of apple pie. He told you about his decision to leave the city and live a simpler life, surrounded by good people. And you told him about how you had always heard of the big city and decided to live there. But after a few months, you missed the woods too much, and you came back home.

“I feel a little silly living back at home in my adult life. I’m hoping to get my own cabin one day…maybe build it from the ground up,” you finished.

Sonny nodded in understanding. “Well, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can always ask me. I’m not the most knowledgeable about cabin life quite yet, but I have the knowledge of who to call for advice.”

“Well, thank you, Sonny. Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” you replied, and he smiled. Then you leaned over the table of his goods and kissed his scruffy cheek before winking and walking back to your parent’s booth, giving him a little wave. The smile and look of absolute adoration in his eyes would be a fixed image in your mind for a while.

[127-mile]

HE WAS A SKATER BOY. she said see you later boy.

PAIRING: Skater Sicheng x female reader | Skater Shotaro x female reader.

GENRE: Skateboard, best friends | Fluff, angst.

WARNINGS: Mention of past injuries, strong language, accident, blood, violence, hospital, Jaehyun is a massive asshole, Yuta saves the day.

PLOT: You didn't think that by accompanying your best friend on his first day of work at the local skateboard store you would end up watching skaters fight during an illegal race.

WORD COUNT: +4.1k.

A/N: This is part of the sports collab hosted by @lucas-wongs | this is also inspired by sk8 the infinity that you do not need to know to read.

"Can you come with me?"

You frown when you hear Shotaro's voice, and when you turn your head, you find him in the doorframe, his arms crossed against his chest. Shotaro doesn't live here, and last you heard he didn't have a spare key to enter your apartment.

"I want to ask you how you got in, but I'm not sure I want to hear your answer," you mumble as you get up from your desk chair, stretching your arms above your head. "and why do you want me to come? It's your first day on the job, you don't need a chaperone."

He pouts, letting his arms fall to his sides. "I am stressed, this is my first job!" he says, like it's obvious, and you roll your eyes. "Please?"

"If I come, you better pay for the pizza for the next movie night, okay?" he nods, suddenly regaining his smile, and you grab your jacket. "If your boss, or your coworkers laugh at you because you needed me, I don't want to hear you complain."

"Do you think they're going to laugh at me?" he asks in a small voice, and you heave a sigh, you should have turned your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking.

"If they laugh at you, it'll be my job, as your best friend, to beat them up, okay?" he laughs softly, and you push him out of the doorframe to exit your room. "Okay, I really need to know, how did you get into the apartment?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You didn't close the balcony door, so I walked in through there." you found another reason to look for a new apartment.

"Come on, let's go or you'll be late." you put on your shoes, and you leave the apartment after taking the time to close the balcony door, you don't want a stranger to suddenly want to visit your apartment after seeing Shotaro do it.

Shotaro retrieves his skateboard outside the apartment complex, and also his backpack that he left in plain sight. "You have to stop trusting everyone, Shotaro, someday someone is going to steal your things."

"You live in the most peaceful and secure part of town, I have nothing to fear." that's what he believes.

The shop where Shotaro was hired is only ten minutes from your apartment, and when you approach it, you stop walking, thrusting your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "Can you go on your own, or do I have to go inside with you?"

He lowers his head, and he plays with the hem of his sweatshirt. "Can you come in with me, and pretend you want to buy something, so I don't look silly?"

If you knew this is the way your day would be, you wouldn't have asked your boss to give you a day off. Having to deal with unpleasant customers is certainly better than having to pretend to buy something from a store where nothing interests you.

"It's going to cost you a lot Shotaro, and it's only for today, okay?" he nods, and he walks over to the bay window.

"You don't have to be afraid, there is no one in the shop." it's true, on the other side of the glass, you can't see anyone. Which is no wonder, even though the store opened over six years ago, the customers aren't regular, so you wonder how it stays open.

You push open the door, and a doorbell rings, and your gaze lands on the counter almost immediately. "Hello?" a young man has his arms resting on the counter, and his face nestled in between. His breathing is slow and regular. He is sleeping.

Shotaro closes the door behind him, and walks over to the counter. "Excuse me?" he asks in a small voice, and when the man doesn't react, he gently pushes his shoulder. "Excuse me? I'm Shotaro, I'm the new employee."

"What is happening?" the young man asks in a hoarse voice full of sleep, raising his head. He rubs his eyes, yawning at length. "Can I help you?"

Shotaro is moving from leg to leg, clearly nervous. "I am Shotaro, I just got hired."

The young man gets up from his stool which scrapes against the tiles, and he shakes Shotaro's hand. "Oh yeah, the boss told me he found someone else. But from what you can see, we don't really have any clients today, so I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Shotaro takes a deep breath, and he straightens up a bit. He wants to be confident in front of his colleague. "I can do the cleaning, whatever you don't want to do, I love skateboarding, so being here is enough, even if I'm not doing anything." he basically says he doesn't mind being paid for doing nothing. Understandable.

From where you stand, a little back, you can see the shadow of a smile on the young man's face. "Do you skate?" Shotaro nods. "I was afraid the boss hired someone who didn't know anything about skateboards, so welcome, I'm Sicheng!"

"Pleased to meet you." Shotaro says, and Sicheng finally seems to notice your presence, since you meet his gaze.

"Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out, luckily, Shotaro comes to your aid. "I was a little afraid to come, so I asked her to come with me." Sicheng hums, but he doesn't comment.

"You want to stay?" he asks you, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah."

And that's how you started to spend your days off, and your weekends in the skateboard shop.

When you see Shotaro talking with clients, advise them about a skateboard, you tell yourself that he was born to do that, he is a natural. You can't remember the last time you saw him smile so much, and you wonder if his jaw hurts at the end of the day. You like to see your best friend like this.

As for Sicheng, he is interesting.

There are days when he barely speaks, when he answers your questions with grunts that make you laugh, and there are days when it's impossible to silence him. He's nice, he's caring with Shotaro, he always makes sure he feels good and comfortable with a client. And he doesn't hesitate to kick some of them out for asking silly questions.

You still don't know much about skateboarding, but you could spend hours watching Sicheng build a skateboard from start to finish.

A bit like today.

You are sitting on a wooden table where skateboard wheels are strewn about, sketches of boards are balled up on the floor, and on the shelves, and Sicheng is leaning over a workbench, figuring out why the board's wheels stop rolling.

"The wheels are round, they shouldn't stop rolling, don't you think so?" you ask by grabbing one of the sketches that you smooth out. It's an extravagant model, and you remember the client who asked for it. Red hair, red nail polish, the tattoo of a rose, and a bright smile.

"Do you think I don't know?" he mumbles, and you laugh softly, it's so easy to annoy him when he is working. Maybe that's the only reason you don't get bored to death when you're locked in the back room with him.

And to be honest, he is not ugly to look at.

"Maybe there's gravel stuck in the bearings?"

Sicheng sits up, and he turns to you with a frown. "How do you know about the bearings?"

You stick your tongue out. "I listen to you when you speak, Sicheng."

He smiles softly, and goes back to his work. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him picking up some sort of toothbrush to clean between the bearings, and as you predicted, some gravel falls on the workbench. "See? I should be paid for this."

"We have five clients a month, do you really think I can give you money for a simple advice?" he asks with a sigh, and you shrug your shoulders.

"The shop is still open, so your boss has enough money for that, and to pay you and Shotaro."

"I can pay you in gratitude, if you want." you chuckle, it is not with gratitude that you are going to pay your rent, but you accept. Next time you won't give him advice.

"I wanted to ask you, are you and Shotaro free tonight?" he asks, sitting down on the workbench before taking the board on his lap to spin the wheels.

"I am free, and as far as Shotaro is concerned, I have no idea." you answer by tilting your head. "Why?"

"You don't live together?" he narrows his eyes.

"No? Why would I be living with him?"

Sicheng is biting his lower lip, but rather than answering your current question, he prefers to answer your previous one. "I'm participating in a race tonight, and I trust you enough to get you there now."

"What does trust have to do with a race?" you ask. "Is this an illegal race?"

Sicheng is watching you like it's the most obvious thing. "Duh! Have you ever heard of skateboard races?" you shake your head. "They're organized by a rich man who we don't know anything about except his nickname. There's nothing to win, but it's fun to go there. You can meet some pretty cool people."

"I'll come, if I don't risk ending up in jail." Sicheng laughs, swinging his head back, but he bumps into the wall, which makes you laugh heartily. "How do you stand on a skateboard if you bump into a wall so easily?"

This time it's his turn to stick your tongue out. "I'll ask Shotaro."

You get off the table, and you go back to the shop where Shotaro is. He's sitting on the counter, watching a documentary about Tony Hawk on the television. "I see you are working very hard, it's nice to see."

He jumps, but he smiles when his gaze meets yours. "There's nothing to do, and Sicheng doesn't like me to be in the back of the store when he's working." and he is right, because Shotaro asks so many questions that Sicheng has trouble concentrating. The last time he cut his palm deep enough that you had to drive him to the emergency room for stitches.

"Sicheng asked if we would like to accompany him to a race tonight." you say, and Shotaro pauses the documentary.

"A skate race?" you nod your head. "Oh my god yes!"

You roll your eyes, Shotaro is adorable when he's excited, because he almost vibrates. "It's illegal, so we risk ending up in jail, don't smile too much."

"Watching an illegal race, and ending up in jail? That would take two things off my list of things to do before I die."

"See, the kid knows how to live!" you hear the back door shut behind Sicheng, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. "You'll see, we'll have fun!"

The way to the start line of the race is an adventure in itself. The car cannot drive on the steep road, and anyway, it is too crowded for you to be able to drive without taking the risk of running over someone.

"Do you do this regularly?" you ask, taking a deep breath, to avoid showing Sicheng that you are out of breath and that you regret having accepted his invitation.

Shotaro on the other hand looks like a child in a Christmas village. He looks at everything with wide, interested eyes, and a blinding smile. If you could, you would pinch his cheeks.

"Every weekend, sometimes twice a week, it depends on the organizer." he responds by shrugging his shoulders, tightening his fingers on the edge of his skateboard so that his knuckles turn white.

"And have you ever met him? The organizer?" Sicheng shakes his head.

"Never, he comes very rarely, but he has set up cameras everywhere so he can watch the skateboarders." you don't know if it's smart, or creepy.

When you get to the end of the trail, you fold your arms across your chest looking around. There are a lot of people, like a lot. You see hair of all colors, people of all ages, and it's nice.

"Sicheng!" the young man turns and his smile disappears when his gaze falls on a skateboarder. "I didn't think you would come, I heard you were way too busy taking care of an empty store."

Sicheng sighs. "Jaehyun, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn't skate anymore." Jaehyun's gaze falls on you, then on Shotaro before sliding down on the board he has just placed on the ground.

"Oh, did you bring some friends? That's good. Do you skate?" he asks Shotaro who nods vigorously. "Do you want to participate in the race?"

Sicheng opens his mouth to say something, but Shotaro is faster than him to answer. "I don't know, can I?" Jaehyun nods, smirking. "Oh my god, yes!"

"You're new here, so I'll race you, don't worry, I'm nice on the track." he winks at you, and turns on his heel before disappearing into the crowd.

You turn to Shotaro. "Are you crazy? You've never skated on this kind of road, you're going to get hurt!"

It is Sicheng's turn to speak. "You can't race him, he's a savage, he's going to send you into the background from the start to make sure he'll win!"

Shotaro shrugs his shoulders. "It's a good opportunity to try it out on the road, isn't it? And why would he do that, he's going to be in trouble if he hurts me on purpose."

Sicheng sighs. "You don't understand Shotaro. If he hurts you on purpose there won't be any consequences for him. It's an illegal race, so if something happens, if you need to be sent to the hospital , you will be the one in trouble, they won't give a shit if you mention Jaehyun."

"Oh." you put your arm on Shotaro's shoulder, who looks up at you.

"It's okay, Shotaro, you can train on a normal road, Sicheng must have places he likes to go, right?" Sicheng nods.

"I'm going to go for a walk, see if I don't see someone from the skate park." Shotaro whispers, and it's his turn to disappear into the crowd. Maybe you should hold him back, but you don't want to force him to stay if he's angry.

"Who is this Jaehyun?" you ask Sicheng who is approaching you so that he can speak without having to yell above the hubub.

"Jaehyun started skateboarding when he was very young, we actually met like that. It's just that he takes racing way too seriously, and he won't hesitate to push someone from the side of the road if that can allow him a victory. He is not afraid of anything, except defeat. He had an accident a few months ago, and we all thought it was the end of his career, but from what I just saw, it wasn't true."

It's not reassuring, you think, biting the inside of your cheek. "Have you ever raced against him?"

Sicheng laughs coldly. "Yeah. All I remember from the race is waking up in a hospital bed with my elbow and collarbone broken."

You understand why he told Shotaro not to race against him, and you are grateful to him for that.

"Come on, I'll show you around."

To avoid getting lost in the crowd, Sicheng takes your hand in his, and he intertwines your fingers. His hand is warm, and it's pretty nice.

He shows you the places where he fell, where he split his cheek, where he broke his wrist and the fingers of his left hand, and each time you can't help but laugh at the dramatic way he tells his stories. "You'll end up falling apart if you keep racing."

"I know it, my friends all tell me, but it's all I've got. It's the only thing I know how to do, where I'm good at." it’s something you don’t believe. You spent enough time with him to know that he is an artist, and that he wielded the tools like no one else. He has so much more than just his skateboard.

"You're wrong, you're-" you're cut off when a crackling sounds through the speakers is heard, and you turn your head towards Sicheng.

“We have the first participants in tonight's race! Jaehyun, a regular we never thought would ever come back, and a new kid, Shotaro!”

"Shit!" Sicheng exclaims, and he starts to run. At first you are frozen in place, but suddenly fingers are circling your wrist and you are pulled by Sicheng. "Come on, we have to stop him!"

Unfortunately with the people it's hard to navigate through the crowds, and before you even get to the starting track, a whistle blows, and the two boys set off.

"Stop the race!" Sicheng says to the young woman holding the whistle, and she shakes her head.

"No can do, sorry."

Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, that you wonder if it will fall at your feet, and Sicheng is not better. He is unable to stand still as he looks at one of the many screens that show the different places Shotaro will skate by.

You dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands without even realizing it, it's only when Sicheng gasps that you lower your gaze. You broke the skin, and blood is covering the tips of your fingernails. "It's going to be fine, calm down." he says, holding one of your hands.

"What is he doing?" someone exclaims with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

You look at the screen, and your eyes widen. Jaehyun and Shotaro are side by side, and Jaehyun is trying to knock him off his skateboard. "We have to do something."

When you don't get a response, you turn around, and you notice that Sicheng has disappeared. You stand on your tiptoes, and you see him running on the track before hopping on his skateboard.

Suddenly, what you feared is happening.

Shotaro loses his balance, and he falls off his skateboard. A fall is nothing, he could get away with a few bruises, but unfortunately at full speed it's a different story.

Shotaro tries to catch himself, but the way his wrist twists makes you nauseous. His wrist should not be bent like this. His head bangs against the asphalt, and your mouth opens with a silent scream. You have to help him, but for that you need your legs to obey you.

You shake your head, and when you regain the mobility of your legs, you start to run. You don't know if Sicheng saw the accident, all you know is you have to find Shotaro, and get him to the hospital as soon as possible.

When you get to Shotaro, he's still on the ground, unconscious. Sicheng and Jaehyun ​are a meter or two away.

"You bastard!" Sicheng says, and Jaehyun does nothing but laugh. He must have tripped, because his skateboard is nowhere to be seen.

"This is how it works, Sicheng!" Jaehyun responds with a smirk. "And why are you reacting like that anyway, you did it too, a few times if I remember correctly."

"Not at full speed, and in a bend! It's way too dangerous! You could have killed him!" Sicheng walks up to Jaehyun, and you don't need to see his face to know that he looks threatening, and that he's ready to hit Jaehyun, to make him pay for hurting Shotaro.

If he does, he will be in trouble, and you don't want that.

"Sicheng, we have to take him to the hospital!" Sicheng seems to notice your presence, as he turns his back on Jaehyun. A very bad idea, if you ask me, since Jaehyun grabs Sicheng's skateboard, and lifts it up high, probably about to knock it down on the back of Sicheng's head.

"Behind you!" you scream, and Sicheng falls to his knees, in time to dodge the blow that would certainly have caused massive damage.

"You're going to pay for this Jaehyun, and I promise you'll never get on a skateboard again!" Sicheng growls, and he joins you on all fours to avoid getting hit once more. He knows Jaehyun, he knows he'll try to knock him out at the first opportunity.

"He's bleeding Sicheng, and the car is so far away." you whisper when he's close enough to hear you, your hand resting on Shotaro's cheek. Blood is flowing from his wound to the head, and a tear rolls down your cheek.

"We can't call the ambulances, because everyone will be arrested, including us." then this is not an option. You have to find something else.

"My car is parked right there, I can go get it for you if you want. I'm also going to ask people to open the gates down the track so you don't have to endure the crowds."

You turn your head to the red haired boy who asked Sicheng for the weird skateboard the week before the race. "Please, that would help us tremendously!" you answer, and he disappears.

As promised, he comes back quickly, and he stops the car in front of you. "I'll help you put him in the car." he tells Sicheng who needs a minute to react, but when he does, he puts Shotaro in the backseat, and he sits with him, his head on his knees.

"We'll owe you one." you say, getting behind the wheel.

You drive off the racetrack without a hitch, and after that, it's just a matter of luck. All the lights are green, and there is no one on the road. Perfect.

You stop the car in front of the main door of the hospital, and you go out in a hurry. "I need help!" you say, and two nurses follow you outside. "He fell off his skateboard, hit his head and hasn't regained consciousness since. It's been 15 minutes."

Then it's a total blur.

Shotaro was taken away by several nurses, and you were forbidden to follow them.

It's been over two hours, and you're still sitting in the waiting room, your head resting on Sicheng's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." he says in a whisper, and you look up at him. "I shouldn't have invited you. I should have known that Jaehyun would be there, and that he would seek to harm me without attacking me directly."

You shrug your shoulders. "You couldn't have known, especially after his accident. You just wanted to please Shotaro by inviting him."

Silence falls, and when the door opens on one of the nurses who took care of Shotaro, you get up from your chair, immediately imitated by Sicheng. "How is he?"

"He is fine." she says with a comforting smile. "The blow to the head was strong, but for some incredible reason he doesn't have a concussion. His wrist is broken, and he's going to have a few bruises. He is going to be just fine, and should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow after one last check up."

A weight slips off your shoulders, and before you know what's going on, Sicheng hugs you for a long, and strong embrace that you didn't know you needed. "Oh thank god."

Shotaro won't be in a race anytime soon, but he'll be getting back on his skateboard before his wrist is even healed.

[cutegirlmayra]

Classic sonamy prompt if I may ask, Sonic has just finished up another adventure and is telling Rosy to go home. When she refuses he offers to take her there himself. Except Rosy refuses because she's homeless and too ashamed to tell Sonic so she lies and says her house was robbed! Like the whole thing stolen. Sonic tries to find the house and the lie gets too big until finally Rosy comes clean embarrassed. Sonic not wanting his friend to suffer lets her stay with him and builds a house for her.

(Art found here (x) Please support the official artist!)

PROMPTS--GUESS WHAT?--THAT’S RIGHT! SHUTDOWN. Don’t send me’em. I’ll tell your mom.

Pajama Blogs - Prompt Requests - Ep 1 (x) - Time where I discussed thoughts on this prompt idea before probably changing the entire concept? (37:05)

Prompt:

Tumbling down from the air, a large explosion blasts the latest Robotnik BossEgg as Classic Sonic lands triumphantly and stands up, holding Rosy the Rascal in his arms, otherwise known as Classic Amy Rose.

Eggman seems to cry out and shake his fist, but breathes smoke in and starts coughing, so he isn’t able to pursue as Sonic smirks up to him and races off.

Eggman turns around and cries out, gripping his head when his ‘mountain base’ suddenly blasts in small degrees, his mustaches--which were metal plates placed on the mountain--droop down to show sorrow and then the whole thing explodes.

Having no where to go... he slumps down and flies off, cursing Sonic’s name and threatening a bigger and even better plan for next time!

“That’ll show’em!” Amy cheers, kicking her legs out as she looks behind Sonic’s shoulder. “Let’s see how he likes his home being trashed up by a bunch of... of... uhh... Well, if robots destroy our home, would living things attacking his be the same counterpart?” she turned back to relax in his arms and put her finger to her mouth, still working on those ‘witty catchphrases and comebacks’ which she had learned was something Sonic was fond of.

To be more adored, she tried to implement them, but it didn’t seem to effect this ‘one-track mind’ hero.

She blinked up at him, seeing he was focused on running, and smiled sweetly with admiration. Her eyes arched and she nestled herself back to being comfortable for the ride. “Nevermind~ We’re both safe, that’s all that counts.”

“Speaking of homes,”

Just as Classic Amy was about to close her eyes, drift off into her dream of Classic Sonic cradling her on his run for hours, letting her soak in that idealized delight; he hard braked and sent her head jerking forward.

“W-woooah!” she clung as a reflex tightly to his head and adjusted to around his arms as he skidded against the ground.

When her squinted eyes blinked wide open again, she looked to see her handsome hero looking down at her.

She waited a second, not having heard much of a ‘peep’ out of him, but having heard of his snarky attitude before. It seems he only really spoke comfortably in front of Eggman--of all people--and his closest friends.

“Where’s yours?” He smiled, capturing her in an array of hearts as twirling flowers floated around her vision, windmilling into her view to drown out reality.

He raised an eyebrow and leaned in a bit when he saw her distracted, “Uhh... Amy?”

She blinked, as though trying to lure him closer.

He frowned, “Lalaland is not considered a home.” he put her down, and she actually did find that a bit funny, though... it was probably meant to be more of an off-handed insult, she knew he wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings in anyway.

He just wasn’t one to let a good joke slip by.

He put a hand to his hip and shook his head up to the clouds, as though silently conversing with them how odd but innocent this girl was.

He looked back to her with a look of disappointment, as though to get her ‘head in the game’ and waited for her to answer him with a sharp, “No offense, but I’d rather get you home safely than concern myself with idle... uh... staring...” he itched his nose and looked down when he noticed she was still glued to him, her hands up by her chin and intertwined together as she openly showed her unwavering crush on him.

He knew he was handsome, but this... was a bit much to ask for.

“Amy...” He looked embarrassed, not sure how to ‘snap’ her out of it, and pulled away to try and create some space between her piercing eyes of sparkling wonder and awe of love... hoping to not have imaginary strings looping around him like a cowgirl to her prized hog.

“You’re my ultimate distraction~” she flirted, “Nothing you can do about that...”

He gruffed.

“And for your information, Lalaland is free of charge~” she moved up and tried to flick his nose, but as he avoided, he struggled to regain balance and started swaying on his one leg.

She giggled as he hopped to the side to get away from her and plant both feet down firmly. He gave her a look like he wasn’t one to just let a girl get the better of him, but she persisted further. “I have a beautiful residency there... If you ever feel like dropping by~” she batted her eyelashes, but moved her hands behind her back and swayed herself, just being girlie and trying to out-smart him.

“I hear rent’s cheap when you’re a squatter.”

“Ah!” she puffed up a cheek and stomped her foot to him, “Well, that’s not a nice thing to say to a pretty girl!”

“Glad you have the confidence. Looks like you don’t need a man, or anyone else for that matter, to tell you it for you.” He dusted himself off, turning away from her before sneaking in a pretty proud grin on his face. He wasn’t going to let her get away with such terrible flirting like that.

“Anyway, I’ve got things to do. Alone.” He folded his arms and faced his back to her, but was sure to stick his nose in the air, just for good measure. “It’s not safe running around this Zone with so many Badniks still afoot.”

“Doesn’t that mean you missed some?”

His face seemed to scrunch at her obvious dig.

“Why not let me help out in getting rid of them?” She cutely turned around to give him her full attention, offering to assist as she knew he loved to ‘clean up the leftovers’ just for sport after beating Robotnik. “I’ve been practicing with my hammer a lot more now and-!” She summoned it out, holding it firmly as memories of training away from towns by trying to knock over trees ran through her mind.

All those long days... the radio on in case of any news of him, and her constant efforts to knock down a firm tree in three blows, which was her first ever combo she learned with her new toy.

Proud to show off her new strength, she began to ramble as Sonic slowly turned his head and looked curiously back at her instrument of destruction.

“A hammer?” he inquired, leaning to look it over, but trying to keep his ‘aloof’ nature present.

“Yeah! I wasn’t too sure if I should it since it might have thrown your running off center, b-but...” she nervously began to feel her heart flutter when he showed interest in her magical item, and began to blush and dip her head down, turning her flushing cheeks away from him and closing her eyes as she continued. “D-do you think you’d like to help me try?”

“...Try and what?” he fully dropped the act and turned around, offering his hands to show he wanted to hold and examine the hammer closer.

She mistook his intent, and excitedly ‘poof’ed the hammer away placed her hands in his own.

He slowly... looked up to her with lowered eyelids to show his annoyance.

She giggled with hearts popping from around her head.

“...You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he chuckled out, and she realized she was slightly winning him over.

He removed his hands and shook them out, “Alright! One round around the Zones! No more or less!” he wagged his infamous pointer finger to make that statement unquestionable, and then gave her a legendary wink. “Sure you’re up for a few tips and tricks?”

She almost melted fully to the ground out of all the warm feelings he was giving her.

“Uh-huh~” Her agreeance lengthened by her sinking into such happiness, and seeing as her knees had turned to pudding, she offered him her hand and without hesitation he took it and pulled her back up into a bridal carrying position.

He ducked his head and her nose almost skimmed by his left cheek, “You ready?”

She was careful... when she nodded, she made sure her nose continuing to skim up and down his cheek looked like a hurried accident...

They charged through the Zones, having some fun as he taught her to better aim and invision where the target was going to be before throwing the hammer.

At first, her swings were a little klutzy, but he helped steady her balance. “What’cha gotta do is put your feet apart, like this.” she was too absorbed in his encasing hands over her own while she held the hammer out, feeling the cotton of his gloves smooth around her own that were slightly more thinner than his puffy ones, and trembled to try and remain poised while he taught her.

A moment went by of her just intensely watching his hands on her own as he tried to teach her a proper swing, before stopping and lightly loosening his grip.

“Sorry, am I being too much?” he pulled his arms back and Amy quickly shook her head, releasing all her built-up energy from being overly excited at his attentive teaching style.

“N-no, no, no! Not at all! Don’t let go~” she whispered the last part and looked off and up to the side, her eyes squeezing shut as she hoped he didn’t notice her blushing.

He did...

His eyes almost furled up as though he had been betrayed, forgetting a moment how she was like, and moved away from her.

He tapped his toe, realizing she wasn’t taking any of his advice seriously, and decided to be mad about it. “So, where’s your home again?”

“S-sorry! I’ll behave! I promise!” she shrieked, her hammer disappearing as she waved her arms about. After perfectly being thrown up into the air to then land squarely on a rooming Badnik, Sonic just had some awkward sweat drip down the side of his face.

“Wow, innate learner...” He muttered to himself, seeing as she actually had caught on to some things. He gave her a sideways look, seeing her wail and plea which made him uncomfortable.

Forgiving her, he just turned his head away from her and closed his eyes, “Alright, alright, enough already. It’s not my style to watch people beg.” he scratched his head, not sure what to do with her if she refused to let him take her back. “But it’s getting late, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you all alone in the open like this.” he earnestly tried to tell her his thoughts and straightened up, playing the noble hero--which was already naturally within his heart--he tried to speak more plainly to her.

“I really should be getting you somewhere safe.”

“Oh, but... Sonic...” She moved closer up to him, making his eyes widened in curiosity at how sincere she looked.

She gently lowered her eyes and smiled, as though trying to create bubbles of light and sparkles around herself, “I’m already safe... right here with you.” she took his hands as he grew nervous, his mouth wagging open on the corners of his lower lip at how direct and unabashed this little girl could be.

“Uhhuhuhhuhh,” He didn’t know how to respond, and it was like his brain was going on a straight line to cut off all activity from her outrageous actions.

She pulled herself a little closer to him, “Maybe... you don’t have to send me anywhere... but we could just gaze up at the stars all night and talk about our future togeth-OFFPH!”

He shoved his head into hers, the hardness of the top of his head smashing her mouth closed as he then pulled away, adjusting his gloves as she rubbed her face in frustration.

“Serves you right for being so shameless.” he knew he hadn’t hurt her, but just shoved her mouth full of quills to silence her continual flirting.

“W-why you...” She twitched an eyebrow, seeing that wooing the man of her dreams might not be as easy as all those fairytale princesses made it out to be.

“If you’re so obsessed with sleeping under the stars, why not fly yourself to the moon?” He stuck out his tongue and dipped his lower-eyelid down. “Waybe when I wouwn’t wave to see yowr wittle wace anywore.” he spoke with his tongue out to taunt her and suddenly she was fuming.

Her arms shook down from her face, as enraged as any tigress, and charged after him. His gleeful expression as he took off and let her chase him lasted for a little while as they played the game of chase.

He kept taunting her, jumping up on a rock and spanking his butt while doing the same mocking gestures to get her to come after him, watching as he would jump and curl up to see the rock he was on get shattered to pieces by her fury.

He uncurled with a few bounces and pulled his arms up as though leisurely jogging, smiling as he was actually testing her further to see how well she really could battle.

‘She’s trying so hard to stay by my side...’ he thought to himself, seeing her calling out with embarrassed fury as she kept swinging and narrowly missing him.

He ducked, freaking out a moment, before sighing in relief, then looking as though happy and proud of her accomplishments. ‘Her aim has increased... Maybe... she was taking my teaching seriously after all.’ It made him glad that he could have moments with her that weren’t just all her feelings, but could be some of his own interests as well.

He plopped himself on another rock and stood like a gymnasts, his two hands positioned in front and below him, which kept him upright, as his legs went straight out ahead of him. “Is that all you got, Rascal?” he teased, smirking widely as he purposefully wore her out to make her more accommodating to his request in sending her homeward.

 “I’m bound... ha... ha... to catch up to you ... ha... ha... someday, Sonic... ha... ha... The Hedgehoooogggg...” she collapsed after making her way over to the boulder, and Sonic’s expression changed to a sweetness as he extended mercy by jumping stylishly off the rock and falling to a knee, offering her his hand. “I.. won’t... give up...” her shoulders bounced as she was on her knees, her arms shaking slightly at their exertion.

Sonic’s eyes bent and in his eyes... he truly knew what she meant.

“I know.” he stated, “But that doesn’t mean a mighty heroine doesn’t deserve a break.”

She was caught by his tender reply and looked over to him, amazed he was acting so kindly again to her.

“W-what happened?” she innocently blinked her eyes, and he laughed at her cuteness.

“I’m just glad you’re having fun.” He stated, and once again shook his arm, “Come on, come on... it’s time to head on back.”

“Ah, you’ll let me stay with you?” her eyes shined.

“No.”

She felt her whole world crash on her, “W-WHATTT???” she exclaimed, “B-but... we were having a moment...” she did her best ‘shaking hedgie eyes’ to make him reconsider.

“Ah-ah-ah.” He got up and shook his pointer finger, “Haven’t you heard? I’m immune to negotiations.” he played along.

“Even cute ones?” she pouted her lip and tilted her head.

For a moment, when Sonic’s eyes met hers, the rising dark shadows of the skies couldn’t block her gentle enticements of beauty from him.

He felt a breath quicken in through his nose and crawl down his lungs, holding itself there as though lodging itself there and wouldn’t move.

It was so fast that Amy didn’t even notice the momentary pupil dilation before he turned away from her and put his hands on his hips.

“...I already said I was taking you back. I keep my word.”

She felt some form of heartache, realizing that no matter how adorable she tried to look, or breathtakingly gorgeous she thought she must have looked in her mind, he wasn’t ever going to budge in her way.

He took final second to sneak a look behind his shoulder back at her, seeing her cry out that she conceded, and nod that he was right.

“It is late...”

“...Very.” he lowered his eyes, as though meaning she was very- “Ehem!” He cleared his throat, coughing into his hand and looking away again, “Very persistent. I don’t understand how anyone can keep up with you.”

“No one but you.”

He turned back as she sweetly praised him, but rolled it off his shoulders and stood a bit taller... not realizing she had boosted his ego a bit there.

“Naturally.” he smiled wider, rubbing his finger under his nose. “I’m the fastest thing alive, so it’s not uncommon for me to be one step ahead of your scheming.” he then lifted a shoe up and lightly poked her with it, smirking mischievously as though wanting her to chase after him again.

She let little tears build up in her eyes as she pouted, “You’re shooing me away again!”

“Only to keep good little girls like you out of bad little boy’s sights.” he teased again, kicking the foot back behind his other leg and looking like a real slick 90′s kid. “Cool off a little... it’s a compliment.”

“Hmph, I’m sure!” she stomped herself up and dusted off her dress. “Well, you won’t find my house, anyway!”

“Is that so?” He thought she was playing again, but was growing a little annoyed at her stubbornness. “Look, it was fun at first, Amy, but you really gotta tell me what’s going on. Why are you so opposed to going home?”

He buried his head down into his folded arms, trying to look stern on this, and it did intimidate her slightly into realizing he was serious...

She sighed, seeing him soften as she turned away. “It’s... complicated.” she pushed her index fingers together.

“How so?” He wondered... “Eggman..?”

“...N-no...” she didn’t want to lie... but... “Robbers!” She spun around, ‘More than anything... I just want to keep spending more time with you...’ she admitted only to herself in her heart.

“R-robbers?” Sonic broke his stance and suddenly took a step back.

“Thieves of the forest!” she spread her arms out wide, “About twenty of them!”

“...W-what?” He seemed disbelieving, so she nervously looked behind her and thought a second before continuing.

‘He’s not gonna buy this... but it’s worth a try! Hehe! Maybe he’ll think I’m cute for attempting to fool him.’ She turned her head back to him, “It was awful! Ah!” she jumped into his arms as he leaned forward with a perplexed expression before awkwardly having her draped over his chest.

“Come again? Where was this?” he decided to get some details first.

Amy sweated, she didn’t know many places around here... “U-Unimportant. They just came up to me all of a sudden! I was so scared!” she gripped her arms tightly around his back quills, nuzzling herself deeper into his chest as he squirmed from how uncomfortable this was.

“W-wah-what? Inside your house?” he wanted to keep investigating, but the odd sensation of her prickly head and soft cheeks against his underbelly really didn’t make it easy for him to concentrate on her story.

As he flinched and wriggled from the touch, not daring to move her, she smirked with a twinkle in her eye.

‘Got’em!’ she smirked, before pretending to act in distress again. “Ohh! Sonic! You don’t understand!”

“Then help me to understand.” he pulled her away, gently this time, but with added worry. He put his head leveled to hers, so she could focus and look directly in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, acting as though she was close to actual tears, pulling her hands in. “We... We can’t go back there, Sonic! I’m too... Ah! Afraid~” she tried to ‘swoon’ into his arms, having her hand lift up to her forehead and have the back of it dramatically positioned there but Sonic caught her from landing on him again.

“Now, hold on. Didn’t you say you felt safe with me?” he blinked with a frown, not going to allow her theatrics to play around much longer.

She pouted, deciding he needed further persuasion...

“Uh... Well... They took the whole house!” she hollered out, “Oh, Sonic, My hero, Hold me~” she cried, turning around to try and better get her arms around his neck but he held her out and slowly reclined back... and that’s when she knew... his annoyed expression...

“You’re just as sneaky as ever...” he puffed out.

“...D-don’t you believe a helpless little-AH!”

He threw her lying behind right up over his shoulder, keeping her there as punishment as she squirmed.

“H-hey! Nooo! Soooonic!! P-put me down, now!”

He yawned, feeling her light pats against his head and back as she ‘struggled’ but knew somewhere deep down she was probably enjoying the further ‘play’ anyway.

He kept one arm down by his hip, but lifted it up to shrug. “Oh well, if you don’t have a home, I guess you’ll have to stay with me the rest of your life, huh, Amy?”

She immediately dropped her pretend, her eyes full of stars as she gleefully grinned. ‘Success!’ she cheered within her mind.

“...Is what you want me to say, right?”

She deflated... “Ohhh....”

“Come on, Amy... Enough games.” He looked back up to her, waiting with his ear turned to her for the truth. “What’s really keeping you so adamant?”

“...Okay, you got me.” She knew she couldn’t keep it up for long. “I... My house... it kinda...”

She then took on a serious expression, pulling out a hankie and blowing into it, “It’s in the sky now, Sonic! Whahaa!”

“...What?” he deadpanned.

“Those robbers they... they cut it up into tiny pieces! It’s gone, Sonic. There’s nothing left of it! My beautiful, beautiful home. Taken before it’s prime!”

He heard her blow into the hankie and shut his mouth.

“...Guess I’ll have to find every last piece of it... and rebuild it myself...” His eyebrow twitched. ‘There has to be a limit to this girl’s presumptuous mannerisms!’

...Had he finally found his match?

Someone to equal his own obscure, reckless nature?

Someone who would consistently not fail to banter till there was no time left on the clock?

“I’ll ask one more time...”

Amy shivered in fear, “You... You wouldn’t do anything ungentlemanly now... w-would you?”

His eyes revealed he was at his limit to her shenanigans.

“Eep!” she threw up the white handkerchief and forfeited, “Okay, okay! In all honesty, I-... I don’t want to part from you, but the reason I won’t tell you where my house is is because... because... I’m... homeless...” she lowered her head.

“That’s it-!” he put both hands on her hips over his shoulder and was about to charge her through a very unpleasant ‘joyride’ to interrogate her into learning some humility but she flailed.

“No, no, wait! This time, it’s the truth!” she waved her arms about, “Please, this time, you gotta believe me! I live on a town’s alley with a box and a blanket!”

He paused...

“You’re not making this up to get pity out of me... right?” he slightly glared back up at her, and she nodded, pulling her hands in and bundling them up by her chin.

“I swear, Sonic. I’m not just kidding around or playing this time... I could show you but...” she looked away, “I wash my clothes because a nice lady thinks I’m sweet and cute... I help her fold her laundry and her children’s bibs in the morning so she pays for my clothes and I secretly sneak out the back and spray the pool water on me while it’s too early for anyone to be up yet...”

He lowered his head, this isn’t what he wanted to hear...

Everything was getting too complicated... She shouldn’t be admitting this to him.

“For food, I usually track berries, but I got here from some traveling gypsies who taught me Tarot cards and treated me very well. They also showed me how to... I don’t steal, so I just performed little fortune tellings here and there to make some money, but it’s only enough for about a week’s worth of food... hence why I help the lady...”

He put her down, “That’s enough.” he stated, closing his eyes. “You didn’t need to tell me all that... I believe you.”

She pulled away, feeling like he may think she’s stinky or pitiful, and scrunched up the ends of her skirt, looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry... I really do like you, Sonic The Hedgehog... but I’m not much of a ...” her bottom-lip quivered. “Lady... as you deserve.” she was on the verge of tears. “But if I didn’t have such humble beginnings... maybe then... I’d be pretty enough to get you to watch the stars with me one night...” she sucked in her breath, dashing off to avoid any further shame before Sonic immediately caught her mid-turn and pulled her back, not letting her escape. “Ah!”

“... I wash my shoes in the lakes and rivers...”

His voice was... empathetic.

“My best friend is an orphan... the other is the last of his kind.”

He stared at her... no judgement.

Her eyes... shined with the love she could see from his enormous heart.

“We all stay in a roughly build placed by a beach... next to a crashed plane.”

“Sonic...” her eyes shook, realizing...

“I’m not the big-shot hero everyone thinks me to be either,” He took a powerful breath in and held it, showing pride as he looked away, recollected himself, and then narrowed his eyes to her. “There’s no shame in being unwanted, alone, or without anything to your name besides your skills and talents... Regardless of what you think a ‘Lady’ qualifies as to be worthy...” he walked up and lightly patted her head,

“...Lalaland is nothing like a warm bed. I’ll give you all of what I’ve found and have collected over the years, so you can be safe too.”

Her heart expanded, and she never knew a man could love someone as unlady-like as it could get. She was without anything... and yet...

He still built a side shack for her on the beach, inviting her in as she insisted on cooking for the boys, and becoming... apart of their team.

[consumedkings-archive]

ii. damage done & damage made ✤ roman sionis/varya astakhova

words: 2.2k

summary: thanks to @starcrier​ for entertaining my daydreams about my favorite murder duo, we now have a oneshot that literally no one asked for: roman and varya, and their babies, in a tea shop. living their perfect crime lives. that’s all.

rating: m for Adult Language and threats of face-tearing

warnings: the aforementioned face-tearing, roman’s mouth (per usual), domestic murder family. babies being cute.

Mark liked his job, a lot. Working a tea shop felt like a step up from the typical entry-level customer service job, and he got a huge discount on all of the products—not to mention, flexible hours while he was balancing school and needing to pay rent, and premium people-watching. Some days, like today, the card machine acted up and he had to ask customers to put their card numbers in manually, but most of them were understanding. All-in-all: he felt pretty lucky.

So when a young couple wandered into the shop one afternoon, it felt like any other kind of afternoon for him. They matched the usual demographic that liked to stop there; well-dressed, usually a little more upper class given the neighborhood. The woman—small and slender, balancing a stylishly dressed infant on her hip—smiled at him charmingly while the man redirected a two-seat stroller to an area less clustered by shelves, slowly rocking it back and forth.

“Good afternoon!” Mark greeted as the woman approached, keeping his voice softer in case the man was trying to rock another infant to sleep. “Can I help you find anything today?”

“Hello! Yes, well—admittedly, I am not as well-versed in teas as I would like to be,” the brunette said sweetly, a little sheepish. The infant babbled happily and clutched the pendant of her necklace in his fingers.

Mark offered her a smile. “No worries. What kinds of flavors do you like? I have quite a few—”

“Varya,” the man said from where he had been pushing the stroller back and forth, “do you have my phone? I need to make a call.”

“Oh, yes. One moment.” She fished a sleek, dark phone from her purse, passing it to the man before turning her eyes back to Mark. The man, presumably her husband, dialed a number and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder before the call connected and he started talking—his voice low so that Mark could barely hear him over Varya’s attentions. He had gloves on; black, leather, embossed with something in gold; maybe his initials?

Varya said lightly, “Flavors?”

He flushed, quickly diverting his eyes. “Yes, right. Your favorite flavors?”

“Hm. I prefer spiced teas,” she began, eyes scanning the shelves. “My mother used to make a tea with cloves and cinnamon, do you have anything like that?”

“Certainly,” Mark replied brightly. He turned back to the shelves, humming for a moment. She had had a bit of an accent; it sounded Russian, but it was so slight he couldn’t quite be sure. There were plenty of tourists and sightseers coming in and out of the shop that he’d gotten used to skimming for quick details, like accents or nice clothes or expensive jewelry. And if the gigantic rock on the woman’s finger was any indication, they were hitting all of the boxes for the people that usually walked into a boutique tea shop.

Pulling one of the jars off of the shelf, Mark pulled the cap and offered it to her to smell. “This one’s got cinnamon and cloves, but ginger and cardamom, too. I really like to make it with—”

“No, no, no, no,” her husband bit out into the phone, the stroller rolling to a stop as he stilled his attempts at keeping the baby asleep, “you listen to me, you pint-sized fuckhead, when I tell—”

Varya, completely unbothered by her husband’s vicious tone, shifted the infant to her other hip, smelling the looseleaf mixture again. “It smells so good. I think it is the ginger that makes it good. What did you say you like to make it with?”

“Um,” Mark said, trying not to stare at the man in the velvet suit saying, and I’m going to cut your fucking face off, you piece of shit, did you know that? Do you know who I am? That’s right, and I can do whatever I fucking want, and that means cutting your dumb fucking face off and putting it on display in my loft for my dinner guests, “cream?”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” she murmured idly, reading through the list of ingredients again. “Do you have those little—” She gestured with her free hand. “—to steep the mixture with?”

“Y—” Mark swallowed. His gaze flickered back to the glossy brunette, her lips pouted and the baby nestled against her neck, seemingly putting himself to sleep despite the noise. “Yes, of course. Do you prefer the, um...”

“In English, you fucker,” Roman seethed into the phone, “your—yeah, well, your boss is American, I don’t care where you were born. So tell me in English how many fucking guns are being held up in bumfuck-nowhere-Russia, you—”

“This one is nice,” Varya interjected gently, picking up one of the steel ones. “I like the ones that have a finer mesh. Less chance of getting the debris in there, you know?”

He was trying to remember when the last time he’d taken a breath was. It very suddenly all made too much sense—well-dressed couple, twins, the embossed gloves and the accent and oh my God, oh fuck, oh fucking God oh shit oh fuck I have Roman Fucking Sionis and his Russian gun lord wife in the tea shop I’m going to fucking die—

“Mark?” she prompted. The dulcet tone of her voice broke him out of the panic running through his brain. Unfortunately, the sound of her saying his first name only firmly cemented in his brain the fact that he was now assisting the wife of Gotham’s biggest crime lord in picking out a looseleaf tea.

He swallowed thickly. “H—How, um, did you know my name?”

Varya tilted her head inquisitively. “Your nametag, my love.”

“Oh,” he replied, letting out a nervous laugh. “Of course. Um. Right, those do have a finer mesh. I like them better too. It’s similar t-to the um—the kind of mesh you would—you would have in the teapot. You know. If you were going to do it by the pot. And not the cup. Like for more than one cup of tea.”

A smile ticked the corner of her lips upward. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was enjoying his apparent discomfort. “I do like to make more than one cup of tea, on occasion. Do you sell teapots? Can I see those?”

Mark opened his mouth to say that of course, she could see the teapots—did she want his? His personal teapot? He could run home and grab it if she wanted, please don’t shoot me in the face—when the stilling of the stroller’s movements seemed to have distressed the other twin. As soon as she started fussing, Roman threw his free hand up in exasperation.

“Do you hear that, Maxim?” he demanded. “That’s my daughter, crying, because I was so fucking fed up with your idiocy that I stopped rocking her to sleep. What? Do I want to—no, I don’t want your mother’s fucking aromatic recipe for putting infants to sleep, I’m already in a fucking tea shop!”

Varya let out a little sigh. “Excuse me one moment, Mark.”

“Sure,” Mark replied, scratching his forehead. “Sure, no worries, take—um, take your time.”

She swept away from him, returning the happy infant to the stroller and pulling from it the fussy one, bouncing the baby a few times before she said, “Romy, you know Yuli only likes when you bounce her. Trade me.”

Mark watched as Roman’s mouth downturned in a firm frown; he eventually acquiesced, taking the crying baby and offering the phone to Varya, who planted the phone against her ear and pushed the double stroller outside and into fresh air, taking with her the conversation which quickly shifted into a foreign language. For what it was worth, as soon as the little girl was in Roman’s arms, she almost immediately stopped fussing—though he did bounce her and make his way over to Mark, brows furrowed despite his daughter’s happy babbling.

“What one did she like?” he asked, less silken than his better half.

“What?”

“The tea,” Roman answered, squinting. “What tea did she like?”

“Uh,” Mark said, “the—uh, this one. Sir.” He held out the jar, but Roman waved his hand in dismissal.

“Pack some of that up. And the—whatever the fuck this is,” he added, gesturing at the steeper. “That too.”

Mark pulled one of the bags out from the drawer, working quickly despite the tremble in his hands. “Just the steeper? Sir?”

Roman had turned his attention back to the curly-haired baby, waving a gloved finger in her vision to keep her occupied, when Mark had posed his question. “What? Speak up, I’ve got a chatty infant here.”

“She—she wanted to look at the teapots, too.” Mark packed the looseleaf tea into the bag. The scale remained untouched. The idea of taking the time to weigh the tea and charge appropriately had completely fled his mind. “S—Sir.”

“Huh.” Roman squinted at the wall of teapots, seeming to deliberate for a moment. “We’ll take that one. The black and gold. And the steeper, and the tea.”

“Sure. For sure. Good choice. That’s my favorite one,” he added, realizing somewhere in his brain that he was babbling but that he couldn’t stop. “It’s hand-made, so it has—um, it has like...Little flaws, that make it worth a lot, because it was made by a famous—”

Varya returned to the shop, phone tucked away and only their doe-eyed son in her arms again. She gave Roman’s shoulder a squeeze with her free hand and then turned her attention to Mark, smiling prettily. “That’s the one he picked out?”

Mark nodded, hesitated midway through packing the pot. “Yes. Do you like it? Did you want a different one? I have some new ones in the back—”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him. She looked at Roman, glowing, and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love it.”

The blonde looked pleased. “Yes, well, who knows you better than me?” And then: “What did Kuznetsov tell you?”

Hurrying through the packing, Mark managed to get everything rang up amidst the couple’s idle chatter—which consisted of Varya explaining that ten thousand guns were held up in Kazakhstan, which was not Russia, but used to be part of Russia, at which point Roman waved his hand and went ‘whatever’—and ran the man’s heavy, black card through the card machine.

The machine beeped three times in alarm, and Mark felt his stomach plummet. The fucking machine’s broken, he remembered, with despair. Oh my God, oh my God, I’m going to fucking—

“What?” Roman barked out. “What is it?”

“The—the um, the machine is—I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “The machine is broken and I h-have to have you—put in the card number manually—”

The man made the most indignant sound, but before he could attempt to get fired up all over again, Varya said, “Romy, why don’t you load the twins up in the car? Armazd already put the stroller away. I’ll finish up here.”

Roman’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and then he said, “Alright, V,” and accepted the second infant into his other arm, toting them both outside. Varya looked at Mark and smiled sympathetically, holding out her hand for the machine; Mark handed it over, absently pulling at a loose thread on his apron as she started carefully inputting the card number.

“Do you have children, Mark?” she asked conversationally. “A partner?”

“Uh,” he replied very intelligently. “N-No. No ma’am. I mean, miss. No, I don’t have either of those, miss.”

“It is definitely a life change,” she said by way of agreement, pocketing the card and waiting for the machine to process. “Suddenly, your hands are full all the time.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up out of him, and he nodded his head; the seconds ticked by, agonizing as Varya hummed and gathered up the bag until it finally beeped its approval of the transaction.

“Thank you, my darling!” she called over her shoulder. “I am sure I will be back.”

“Welcome,” he replied weakly. He watched her make her way to the door, nearly out; it wasn’t until his shoulders slumped in a bit of relief that she stopped and turned to look at him, a sly little smile on her face.

“Before I forget,” Varya began, “perhaps, if you find yourself thinking about any of the conversation you heard today—you know, about business—it is best to keep it to yourself. It is not particularly confidential, you see, but...Well, I would just hate to feel like I could not bring my business back here because I cannot trust you.”

An unpleasant little chill sprinted down his spine. He shifted on his feet, wetting his lips for a moment as he tried to figure out what it was he wanted to say; how many times could he swear up and down that nothing he heard today about guns or Kazakhstan to assure her that she wouldn’t have to worry about it? That he would literally rather put pencil shavings in his eyes than put the Sionis target on his back?

“Mark,” she said, “all you have to say is that you understand.”

“I do,” he blurted out quickly, “I do understand.”

She smiled brightly. “I knew you were a good boy. Have a lovely afternoon!”

Just like that, she swept out of the shop; he was finally alone. Mark slumped into his chair, passing a hand over his face for a moment—long enough for him to sit up, press his face into the palms of his hands, and say:

“I have to quit my job.”

[tessiete]

"I wish you would write a —" continuation or AU of that scene from away the vapour flew (because I've seen you mention that even your AU's have AU's lol and I'm selfishly hoping you'd consider revisiting that fic and coz I can't let this opportunity pass when this fic literally lives in my mind rent free lol)

Alright! At long last I have figured out what happens next. This is for you, dear thing ❤️❤️❤️ ( @lightasthesun on - or very near thereabouts - your birthday)

LED BY THE WANDERING LIGHT

It starts with a very little thing: a seed.

 It is slipped from the glove of a Republic aid trooper who smiles as he passes it over.

 “From the General of the 212th,” he says. “Don’t know what it is, but I damn near lost the thing on the way over.” 

 “For me?” he asks, and the man nods, his grin growing wider.

 Then he leans in as though commiserating with a friend. “Jetiise sha’bise, lek?”

 “Elek,” agrees Korkie, dubiously, turning the little living pebble between his fingers.

 The trooper grins, and gives him a friendly shove before trotting off back to his ship. Korkie has come down on his aunt’s behalf to oversee the relief efforts, but he is distracted by the seed in his hand. It is flat, and furry, and pleasingly plump. If he squeezes it, he can feel the skin relent and rebound, and if he digs in his nail ever so gently, he can feel the taste of water upon his thumb, and see the pale blush of springtime in the depths of the cut. It is a seed of something, he knows, but of what?

 He places it in the breast pocket of his Academy jacket, and turns his attention back to the work. It is an impressive, and important sight, but his thoughts linger on the seed, and he feels it sit bright and eager against his heart.

 Later, when the supplies have been unloaded, and the aid troopers seen off, when the ceremony of thanks and assurances of neutrality have all been displayed, when he is back in his room at Sundari only hours away from the magtrain ride back to school, he plants the seed in a little pot of black earth, and dampens the soil. It will not grow tonight, but he cannot help but stare at it anyway, waiting in the dark, beneath the stars, so patient.

A week passes, and he is back at the Academy when the mail officer - an upperclassman he’s never met - stops at his place during first meal.

 “Su-su, Kryze!” he calls. “A package for you from the Core.”

 A small bundle wrapped in layer upon layer of bonding tape, and stamped with the ink of a hundred spaceports too numerous and cramped to decipher lands upon his lap. He uses the thin knife from his plate to slice through the plastifibe envelope. 

 When his fingers graze the object within he gasps, and pulls back the wrap to reveal a real, proper book. It’s not even printed on flimsi, he notes, cracking the aged spine and letting the pages fall open, but on actual paper. They don’t make these in the Core, and hardly ever in the Mid Rim, it’s just not economical, and most planets don’t have the resources to spare. But this one is old, it’s pages creased, and worn smooth at the corners with the turning of many fingers. It is about horticulture, though the illustrations of green and growing things have faded to browns and burnished golds. It is beautiful. 

 A piece of dried grass has been tucked between two pages, and when Korkie folds them back to look he sees an image of the seed he’d sown in the pot by his bed. Beside it, a riotous bouquet of blossoms burst in an array of different colours. It is a daesyn flower.

He tucks the book in his kebisebag, and carries it around for the rest of the day. At nightfall, he takes it out with careful reverence, turning the pages back to the daesyn slowly lest they tear or turn to dust. Then, by the light of a little glowrod, he props the book against his window and reads along as he tends to the small green sprout only just peeking through the soil.

 He buys a sun lamp, and a watermeter, and adjusts the temperature of his quarters much to Amis’ chagrin, determined to provide the most optimal growing conditions he can for the little plant.

  After a month, the seedling has become a sturdy sprout, with prickly leaves of a green so deep it might be blue. He is attempting to commit those variegated lines to flimsi when Amis returns to their quarters, a small pouch swinging from his hand.

 “I’m supposed to give this to you,” he says, tossing the pouch. Korkie reacts without thinking, snatching the bag out of the air before it can hit the ground.

 “Who’s it from?”

 “Front desk. Said some high up Republic alor sent it.”

 “Which one?”

 “Don’t know. Didn’t ask, did I? Too busy polishing the silver.”

 Korkie grimaces in sympathy, having spent many an afternoon of his first year cleaning the trophy case in the main hall. He thinks that Amis’ plight could be easily avoided if only he behaved himself, but refrains from saying so to his friend.

 Instead, he pulls the drawstring at the top of the purse, and turns it over his hand. A dozen discs of coloured glass tumble into his palm. They are thick, and smooth, though not polished by anything but time. Each is a different colour, though some are struck through with shimmers of gold and silver. 

 “What’s that?” asks Amis over his shoulder.

 “Don’t know,” he echoes. The glass feels comfortable in his grip. Made to be held, and carried, and passed from hand to hand.

 “Should ask Lagos,” says Amis. “That seems like her kind of thing.”

 He makes no reply to Amis, but of course, he does as he suggests. Lagos is, after all, a walking encyclopaedia, and of all their friends the most likely to at least have an idea of where to start looking.

 The excitement on her face when Korkie shows her his hoard tells him she has more than an idea - she knows.

 “Oh, oh, oh!” she gasps. “Where’d you find Abafar trading beads?”

 “They were a gift,” he replies. “What are they for?”

 She picks them up one at a time and holds them to the light. By some trick of their design, they cast no shadow, but seem to capture the rays inside like banked embers, or twisting prisms. The ones marked with ribbons of ore grow warm in her hand, and she presses them to his cheek so he can feel their heat.

 “They’re the traditional currency of Abafar,” she explains. “It’s a desert planet in the Outer Rim, and craftsmen in the Void used to make these beads as a means of facilitating trade over great distances. Metal was scarce, and the beads could also be used to retain heat for longer - that one in your hand could keep the warmth of the sun all night, if you wanted it to.”

 He considers the disc of deep indigo, and holds it up to the sun until it turns red. The glass seems to have become molten, but its warmth is not painful in the hand. He leaves the bead out for the rest of the afternoon to test Lagos’ theory, and brings it into bed with him at night. Tucked beneath his pillow, it radiates a soothing heat, and he feels his muscles relax and his worries melt as he drifts away into an easy slumber.

   The next gift he receives is shattered into bits.

 “Sorry, kid,” says the attendant at the delivery depot when he arrives to claim his parcel. “Happens sometimes with these packages from the front. The war is not a safe place for fragile things. Bic cuyir meg bic cuyir.”

 He takes the present anyway, carrying it delicately back to the Academy, fearful of breaking it further. When he finally tears through the tape and plastifibe, clay and ceramplast pieces give up any pretense at form and clatter over the surface of his desk.

 It was beautiful once, he can tell. Perhaps a bowl or a cup turned by hand - he can see the telltale print of a foreign finger pressed into a section of naked clay - but now it is only fragments and dust.

 Still, he hovers over the pile, turning the pieces this way and that, trying to see how they fit together. He doesn’t notice when sixth bell rings, or when Soniee pings his comm, or when Amis sneaks in past curfew and turns out his light. He stays up late into the night, until the form takes shape, and through the cracks and crevasses of painted clay dawn creeps in.

 It is an amphoriskos. A small vessel for storing precious oils, like the kind used in the rituals of so many traditional peoples. There is none in it now, and Korkie retrieves the sachet to see if perhaps it was spilled into the weave of the plastifibe wrap. But it is dry. And the clay, when he looks at it more closely, is dry and unstained by use. The gift was always empty.

 The shards sit upon his desk in their loose arrangement until, one afternoon, Amis moves to sweep them off into the dustbin.

 “No, no!” protests Korkie, before Amis can complete the task. “I want to keep it.”

 “What for?” his friend asks. “It’s broken.”

 “I don’t know yet.”

 He collects the bits of amphoriskos into his hands, and arranges them about the base of his daesyn pot. The paint glints in the light, and so too do the Abafar beads nestled amidst the debris. The plant grows green and bushy, its leaves reaching out to skim the rim of its bed as though a swimmer poised on the edge of emersion.

He receives Theelin singing strings wound tight around a holodrive meant for the Duchess, paired basalt spindles from Hapes, seashells from the deep oceans of Mon Cala, and a set of Lateron hoops carried on the wrist of the visiting senator from Naboo.

 “From Master Kenobi,” she says, and she smiles at him with a warmth that feels like family. He wonders if they’ve met before, if he should know her, but she moves along with the entourage of press and government officials before he can ask.

 He is home for Holyrod month, and has brought his prizes with him carried along specially in his kebisebag, his daesyn in his hands. He sets them out along the windowsill in his rooms at Sundari. The watchet blues and greens of crystalline filtered light play over his collection, illuminating one after the other in joyous turn. He does not know what they mean, or why his father has sent these particular things to him, but they are all precious, and he longs for a way to display his gratitude for the thought he has been spared.

 The daesyn itself revels in its new surroundings, and leans close to the glass to get as close a view of the sun as it can, budding with imminent delight.

The Senator from Naboo is called Padme, he discovers when he is introduced to her again at mealtime. And she has not come alone. She is part of a delegation of foreign ambassadors, all from the Republic, but not all, Korkie suspects, as enthusiastic about the Chancellor as they had once been. There are murmurings and whispers amongst them, hurried out between thin lips and caught only in the corner of his eye, or the turn of his head, but whether satisfied or not, they are accompanied by the ceremonial force of the Senate, and the might of Palpatine himself - Two Jedi travel with them.

 Anakin Skywalker, and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

 He sees him through the crush of bodies, and later down the line at suppertime. In the midst of deep blues, and mauves, and furs, and silks, his earthen tunics stand out, but he is always distant, always just out of reach. All he needs is a moment, he thinks, to make sure he’s seen, so he can acknowledge his father - even in the polite, and suitably respectful language of perfect strangers if he must, but it never comes. 

The plates are cleared, the halls are emptied, and Korkie finds himself bidding his aunt (she is always his aunt here) goodnight, and wandering back to his rooms alone.

 It is dark when he arrives, though by the window the Abafar beads glow like the distant lights of the city. He slips off his stiff shoes, and his raiments of clan, but is interrupted by a knock at the door. He waits, uncertain, until the knock comes again.

 Perhaps his mother come to assure herself of his health and presence, as she has done so often in the past, but he opens the door to find Obi-Wan Kenobi waiting, with his hand out. In the euphoric rush of astonishment, he hastens to place his own hand upon his father’s as is customary on Stewjon, though he holds fast in a manner peculiar between children and their parents.

 “Master Kenobi,” he stammers. “I did not expect you. I thought you’d left. Forgive me.”

 “There is nothing to forgive,” Obi-Wan replies. “I’d rather hoped to catch you alone, but I’m afraid our schedule was somewhat packed.”

“Of course.”

He is staring, he knows it, but he can’t seem to think of anything else to say, caught up in looking at his father and searching for all the commonalities between them. Does he tilt his head like that? Does he stroke his chin? Does he frown and smile by equal measure?

But the weight of his scrutiny is too much to bear, and Obi-Wan cracks.

“I thought to ask: did you get my gifts?”

“Yes,” says Korkie. “Thank you. They were very thoughtful.”

“Ah...And did you - did you like them?”

At this, Korkie cannot help but smile, and he shakes his father’s hand, tugging him forward with zeal.

“Yes, of course,” he says. “Would you like to see?”

If he is confused by his son’s desire to reintroduce him to items he has already laboured over and seen, then he does not show it. Nor does he resist when the hand in his pulls him further into the room, and doesn’t let go even as a curtain is flung open, and a light flicked on low.

He is pulled over to the broad casements and left to bask in starlight as Korkie steps aside to reveal a colorful mobile hanging from the frame of his window.

“The amphoriskos broke,” he explains, and sees a shadow flicker in his father's eyes. “No, no,” he insists. “It wasn’t your fault. It just happened. But I couldn’t bear to throw it away. It was so beautiful.”

He gestures at a silver thread from which hang a variety of irregularly shaped clay shards. The shiny amber and black paint catches the light thrown by the glowing Abafar beads strung further up, and on another and another thread. When he blows on them the threads hum, and sway together, the seashells and pottery and glass clattering together like wind chimes.

“The singing strings,” notes Obi-Wan, and Korkie grins.

“And the Lateron hoops,” he says, pointing to the frame from which the strings are suspended. “And the spindles, for balance. It’s meant to hang with my window open, like it is at school. And then, at night, when the dreamwinds come, the whole thing sings, and shines, and glows like the stars.”

“It’s beautiful,” says Obi-Wan with awe. He reaches out with one hesitant finger, the beads flickering beneath his touch, and the strings murmuring the low notes of an opening phrase.

“You gave it to me,” says Korkie with a shrug, and Obi-Wan turns his awe upon his boy.

“No,” he says. “I gave you fragments, but you have made them into art. You gave them meaning. You gave them a soul.”

Korkie shifts on his feet, fretting at the cuff of his sleeve, and diving in.

“Would it be okay, do you think -” he starts, then stops. Then he starts again. “Do you think it’d be alright if I wrote you? Every once in a while.”

“Wrote me?”

“Or com’d,” he says, quickly. “Only I know you’re busy, and I can’t expect to lay claim to any of your time, not really, but I -”

“Com me,” says Obi-Wan. “Write me. Send me anything you like, but only say you will and I will have all the time for you I can spare.”

“I promise that I only want a very little.”

“If it’s mine to give it’s yours to have, Kiorkicek,” his father swears. His grip upon his hand is firm, willing him to believe him, and Korkie nods his head because he does.

They stand there, hand in hand, reading themselves in each other, and learning the other in turn, and in the glow of the stars, and the city, and the Abafar beads, the daesyn flower bursts from its roots into a riot of colour and life.

[westallenfun]

Home for Christmas - 3/3

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @backtothestart02

For: @cheryls-blossomed

Merry Christmas, Mailina! I did my best to write up a short multi rom-com au for you. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful holiday!!

Chapter 3 -

Barry looked down at the sled they’d used as children and knew immediately that it wasn’t going to work. The pained look on his face only lessened slightly when he saw how excited Iris was beside him.

“Iris, no,” he tried, but she turned to him with an adorable pout on her face and her fingers folded beneath her chin.

He laughed.

“There’s no way we can fit on this anymore.”

Her pout only deepened.

“Iris! Just…just look.”

He picked up the sled that now only fell to his knees and was skinnier than the width of his body.

Iris held in a chuckle when he held it flat against his body. She pursed her lips tightly before getting control of herself.

“You’re not laying down in it, Barry. Just your legs and your butt have to fit into it.”

“My legs are too long for it!” he squeaked. “And where will you go?”

“Between your legs,” she said easily. “Or…on your lap if that doesn’t work.”

“Iris.” He sighed.

“Just…trust me.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him with her down the block towards the park with the huge snow hill. “We didn’t get all dressed up in snowpants and snow gear to bail now.”

“Can’t we just…rent a new sled? One that will fit both of us?”

She laughed. “It’s a park, Barry, not a ski lodge.”

He groaned but walked with her the rest of the way. In no time they were at the park and at the top of the hill. It was fairly large for a park hill, and luckily wide across too, because kids from all around were scattered about waiting to go. But Barry stood where he was, staring down at the child’s sled and deeply regretting letting Iris talk him into this.

“Sit,” Iris ordered.

“I’m not gonna fit, Iris.”

“I don’t think your hips are as wide as you think they are.”

He glanced at her and noticed she was on the verge of laughter again. Was he really so funny? Maybe he was just funny-looking. Heat swallowed up his cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold so luckily Iris couldn’t tell he was blushing.

“Just try it.”

He groaned but did as he was told, and to his surprise, his butt fit into the sled just fine. It was snug, but it still fit. He was pleased until he sensed Iris practically gloating over him.

“Just get on,” he muttered.

She laughed and sat in front of him on his lap. There wasn’t really room between his legs, as he’d predicted. But her butt was nestled perfectly on his crotch, and she was ready to go. Barry did his best to think of anything but her butt fitting so nicely on top of him. It wasn’t easy, but he was determined not to make this any more awkward than it had occasionally been.

“So, how do we go now?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Well, you push us,” she said, as if it was obvious.

“How do I-”

“Put your hands on either side of you in the snow and push.”

He sighed testily but did as he was told.

“I don’t think this is going to wo-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a swift kick from the person behind them hit the back of the sled, and off they went flying down the hill, nearly toppling over from one side to the next with the weight of the two of them rocking the sled.

“Ahhh!” Barry cried, as Iris squealed in delight.

She took his hands tightly clutching the sides of the sled and wrapped them around her waist. He could hardly breathe. Her coat was puffy, but he could somehow feel her figure beneath the cushy material. It made him dazed and forget all about the size of the sled they were in.

“Oh, that was great! Wasn’t it?” Iris easily hopped out of the sled, pulling his arms free of her. “Barry.”

He blinked. “What?” He looked up at her.

“Wasn’t that great?” she emphasized.

He blinked a few more times, then said, “Yeah, great.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re impossible.” She pulled him up out of the sled, even though it stuck to his behind for a few moments before dropping to the ground. “Just like I remember you,” she said breathlessly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He knew why. They were unbelievably close to each other’s faces until he straightened knees and stood up fully. He knew why it would rattle him, but why should it rattle Iris?

“Want to get some hot chocolate?” he asked, gesturing to the small stand that was set up on the far side of the park. He was sure Iris would want to take the sled down the snow hill more than once, but if he could help it, maybe they could wait a while before trying again.

“Sure.”

She smiled tremulously, confusing him, but she still took her hand in his and headed across the park to the hot chocolate stand. Iris paid, given that Barry was broke, and he looked at her apologetically. She brushed it off as nothing. She wanted to treat him, she said. Then they found a bench a little way’s away from the crowd of kids and took a seat.

“Thanks for this, Iris. It’s really nice.”

“No problem.”

She smiled and brought the hot chocolate to her lips. They drank in silence for a while until Iris apparently spotted a chocolate stain above Barry’s upper lip and reached to remove it, removing her glove first.

Barry’s lips parted in surprise at the movement, and Iris ended up brushing his lips before she pulled her hand back and quickly slipped it back inside her glove.

“Umm…” Barry tried.

“You had a uh…hot chocolate mustache.” Iris cleared her throat.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Iris fiddled with her hands in her lap, avoiding his gaze, which set off warning bells in Barry’s head.

Had he done something wrong?

“Iris…”

“Yeah?” Her head whipped around, and she quickly looked up at him.

He adjusted her scarf, so it was wrapped more snugly around her neck.

“Is something wrong?”

She bit her bottom lip, and their eyes met. All of a sudden all else faded away, and Barry had never been so sure of something in all his life. Iris didn’t move, but he did, descending towards her face with certainty and all intention of kissing her.

“Barry-”

“I’m in love with y-”

“I have a boyfr…iend.”

Her eyes opened, and she stared deeply into his eyes, removing her hand from his chest.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” he said, unthwarted by her confession.

“I’m bringing him to the party,” Iris said, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Barry licked his lips.

“Do you regret this week?” he asked, referring of course to the three full days they’d spent hanging out.

“No!” she said quickly. “Absolutely not. I just…”

“No kissing,” he finished her thought.

She swallowed. “Right.”

“Got it.” He paused. “Can I kiss your cheek at least?”

“…I guess.”

So, Barry leaned in and pressed his lips to her icy cold cheek, warming it a little. Iris’ eyes closed, and she savored the touch.

She knew in that moment, she was in big, big trouble.

…

Christmas Eve came the next day. And despite the fact that Barry and Iris had had a very pleasant rest of the day the day before, they didn’t so much as share a phone call the next day. Iris began to worry that she’d been too harsh with him, but thinking about their uncomfortable conversation at the park, she couldn’t think of any other way it could’ve been handled.

The truth was, the reason they’d even gotten into the predicament they were in was largely due to her own confused mind. Because from the minute she’d seen him inside her old bedroom and the name linked with his handsome figure had clicked, she’d been unable to stop thinking about him.

Barry Allen. Her best friend from childhood. The first boy she’d had a crush on. The Barry she’d put on such a high pedestal in her mind and heart that none of the boys she’d dated had even come close to. And the more time she spent with him over the course of the last few days, the more time she wanted to spend with him.

She didn’t want him to leave after the holiday. She wanted him to leave whatever life he’d left behind two states away and stay in Central City with her.

Not in her apartment! Not unless he wanted to. Not if-

If you had a boyfriend, Iris West? Because you do. His name is Eddie Thawne.

But they’d only been dating a month.

Eddie was attractive and sweet, and he adored her. Up until this week, she thought she felt the same.

I do feel the same…

Then why did she hesitate?

Because you’re in love with your best friend. Duh.

When she got dressed that evening, she didn’t get dressed for Eddie. When she chose the velvet red off-the-shoulder dress that hit at mid-thigh with ruby lipstick, dangly earrings, and three-inch black high heels, she hadn’t been thinking of Eddie. When she bought presents earlier in the week, the one she thought of with more care wasn’t Eddie’s. All of it was Barry’s.

Barry’s return to her life had sparked something in her that grew more with every day. In fact, it wasn’t until their official almost-kiss that she remembered she even had a boyfriend. She’d had to fill in Eddie before the party as to why she’d been so MIA this week. He understood, but he didn’t really, and she knew she had to explain it to him as soon as possible.

Sitting on his lap on the couch in the living room, Iris spoke almost to herself when she said, “I think we have to break up.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asked, seemingly having not heard her.

Reluctantly, she turned on his lap to meet his eyes.

“I think we have to break up.”

His lips parted.

“What?”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

“Who?” he asked, incredulous. “Your best friend?”

She winced and gave him a look that said well, yeah.

“You’ve only been with him three days! And before that you hadn’t seen him for 15 years! And you were kids. Kids don’t-”

“Fall in love?” she offered.

His eyebrows narrowed.

“Well, I never fell in love at 10 years old.”

“Maybe you never met anyone special.”

“Iris!” His voice rose.

“Shh!” She stood to her feet and pulled him to his, leading him into the dining room where currently no one else inhabited. “Don’t cause a scene.”

He scoffed.

“I’m sorry, but you’re the one breaking up with me. I should get something out of it.”

She glared and propped one hand on her hip.

“I was going to kiss you under the mistletoe, Iris. I bought a really nice present for you.”

“I bought a present for you too! I’ll still give it to you!”

He scoffed again. “Forget it. Not if you’re breaking up with me. I don’t want it.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure about this?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Because we have something really good going here.”

“I know we do.”

“I’m not going to take you back if a week from now you decide whatever you’re feeling right now wasn’t real.”

“But it is real,” she insisted. “It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“More real than your feelings for me?”

“I don’t think I…have feelings for you anymore.”

His jaw dropped. “Iris! Just last week you-”

“I know, I know! You don’t think I know how crazy this sounds? I do! But…”

“But what?”

“Barry is leaving in two days. Unless I tell him how I feel, the truth of how I feel, and that’s that I’m in love with him. It was just a crush when we were kids, but it’s turned into something I could have never expected. Ever since he showed up earlier this week, I can’t stop-”

“Okay, okay,” he said, softening. “I really don’t need to hear about how in love you are with someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I really am.”

“Yeah, well…I should probably get going.”

“No, don’t go.” She reached for his hand as he started to walk away. “I’ve ruined your night. I’m sorry. But you have nowhere else to go! And you’re staying with me at my apartment! What are y-”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Eddie, please.”

“Goodbye, Iris. Merry Christmas.”

He sounded a little bitter on the ‘Merry Christmas’, but she didn’t blame him one bit. She only sighed as he left and whispered to herself, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

…

After scouring the house, both first level and second, Iris began to panic.

Barry couldn’t have really left, could he have? Was he so upset that she had a boyfriend and wouldn’t let him kiss her that he wouldn’t even stay for the whole party? They hadn’t even eaten yet!

And things had changed. They had changed so much.

Barry didn’t have anywhere else to go either. He couldn’t have just…vanished. Could he have?

Her mind was spazzing so badly, she almost didn’t notice when her dad started walking past her into the kitchen.

“Dad!” She grabbed for his arm.

“Iris!” His eyes widened. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Where is Barry?” she demanded.

Joe’s brows furrowed.

“I think he’s on the front porch. Why?”

“The front porch!” she seemingly said to herself. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I don’t know…but if you’re going out there, please make sure to put your coat on. It’s especially chilly tonight.”

“Right. Of course.” She reached up on her tip toes and kissed her dad’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure. Can I ask what this is abou-”

But Iris had already released him and was headed towards the front door. He shook his head and resumed his walk into the kitchen to get some more food for the table.

Once outside, Iris sucked in a breath. True to her dad’s words, Barry was sitting on the porch, the top step, where they used to hang out as kids when something was wrong. They’d talk it through and hug and go do something fun.

Now something was wrong, at least on Barry’s end, but Iris hoped it could be fixed soon. And that their something fun could be making out under the mistletoe she’d stuffed into her coat pocket on her way out.

“Hi, Barry.”

He turned to look at her, and his eyes widened.

“Iris! What are you doing out here? It’s…it’s freezing!”

“Looking for you,” she said innocently, then came to stand beside where he sat on the step. She opened her coat so he could see her ensemble underneath. “Do you like my dress?”

His eyes still wide, they widened even more at the sight of her minidress.

“You should go back inside, Iris. It’s too cold for that kind of-”

“You didn’t answer my question, Barry Allen. Do you like my dress?”

He gulped. “It’s a very nice dress.”

“Do you like it on me?”

“You look beautiful,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “But I’m sure your boyfriend has already told you that tonight.”

Now that she thought about it, no, he hadn’t.

“Eddie is no longer my boyfriend.”

She came and sat beside him on the step.

“What?” he asked, confused. “But I thought-”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Barry.”

“What?” he asked, breathless.

“These past few days, they’ve been amazing. As soon as I knew who you were on your first day here…all these old feelings started coming back.”

“Old feelings?”

“You’re not the only one who had a silly crush at age 10.”

“You mean…?”

She nodded.

“No other guy has ever measured up.”

“Iris.”

“I think I stopped writing you because I was trying to forget you. I was starting to get interested in other guys, and they always fell short for me because they weren’t you.” She paused. “Eddie included.”

“So, you broke things off?” he asked.

She nodded.

“For me,” he said.

She started to smile.

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want you to go, Barry. I want you to stay.” She reached for his hands, and he let her. He always let her. “I want to see where this goes, and if we’re as destined as I feel like we are.”

“You feel like we’re destined?” He could hardly breathe.

She nodded again.

“But…how? Just earlier today-”

“I hadn’t talked to Eddie yet. I hadn’t stopped to think. I hadn’t let my heart decide for me what I really wanted.”

“Suppose your heart will want Eddie again…”

“It won’t.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.”

“That’s because I am.” He looked doubtful. “Barry, we’d only been dating a month. Even before this week I wasn’t in love with him. I think he liked me more than I liked him to be honest.”

Barry’s mouth was hanging open, but somehow he managed to shut it before looking out into the street.

“This is…a lot to take in.”

“Is it too much?” she asked, tipping her head to the side.

He turned to look at her, then saw she was dangling a handful of mistletoe above the space between them. He almost laughed and cried simultaneously; he was so ecstatic.

“Not on your life, Iris West.”

She grinned, and a moment later, Barry’s lips were on hers and the mistletoe had dropped into the snow as Iris’ arms encircled his neck, and his hands grasped her waist to pull her in closer.

Just down the road, a car slowed to a stop a safe distance away, the driver spotting the couple fully enraptured in each other before he slowly smiled.

“Thatta boy, Barry,” he said softly.

The car gradually moved back onto the road and turned in the other direction, back from where it had come. It was never seen again.

“I love you, Barry Allen,” Iris said, finally breaking apart, though very eager to kiss him again.

His smile was infectious as he pushed her wavy curls out of her face and sank his fingers into her hair.

“I love you, Iris West,” he said, and kissed her again.

[dustofinsanity]

𝐺𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑂𝑣𝑒𝑟

Yugyeom / Readerㅤ ㅤㅤFriends to loversㅤ ㅤㅤWords count: 4.4k

Summary: Sick of the game Yugyeom was playing with you, you decided to move on. But, losing you wasn't in his plan.

Content/Warning: Romance/Fluff, Angst.

Notes: Thank you soooooo much @jj-nyoung​ for correcting this fic that was literally dying in the list. 💜

Notes 2: Thank you papa owner, aka @defsenses​, for saving my life and making the gif. 💜

Everytime you were thinking about the first day you met your best friend, a soft smile stretched your lips, replaying the scene in your mind, seeing this adorable little boy running to you in the park and telling your mom he would take care of your scratched knee like the little superhero he was. You would never forget your mother's chuckle and the serious expression on the boy's face when he was cleaning your small wound and applying a cartoon bandage on it. You never understood why this mini superhero stopped playing with his friends to help you but, since that day, you always felt blessed to have him in your life. With time, though, the little superhero turned into an annoying and teasing young man. Yugyeom became the kind of men you couldn't stand but it was stronger than you and you always forgave him for being such a pain in the ass almost all the time. Actually, your feelings were stronger than you. It sounded so cliché but yes, you were one of those people who fell in love with their best friend. He was the only person in this world to whom you could say what was on your heart and in your mind, all your secrets, or at least almost all considering you never had the courage to tell him what you were feeling for him. You spent all your school years watching him date a lot of girls, thinking that none of them deserved him. In the end you were right, since you saw your best friend coming back at you, saying he wasted his time once again. Deep inside, you wanted to tell him he wouldn't waste his time with you but you always retained yourself, just saying you would always be here for him. The more you were thinking about it, the more you were finding this situation stupid. It looked like a romantic but cheesy drama show, the kind of things you didn't really liked. But, a day, things seemed to get better and when Yugyeom asked if you would be okay to be his roommate, you thought it was your chance to show him the perfect girlfriend you could be for him. So you moved in with him... And that's when your nightmare started. You knew your best friend was a player, collecting one night stands as you were collecting miniature perfume bottles but you didn't know it was that bad. Two or three girls each week! You even ended comforting some of those girls, offering them tea and saying Yugyeom wasn't ready to start a serious relationship when he dumped them without any explanation. But, to be honest, you didn't know if he would be ready some day. Like your best friend told you during one of your movie nights, he didn't want to get hurt so he preferred one night stands, like that, he didn't take any risk. And, like you told him, it was stupid but you knew you couldn't change his mind as long as he was satisfied with this kind of life. This is why you were never surprised when you saw another girl cuddling with Yugyeom on the couch - when they weren't doing something else, upon arriving at home. "Sorry but who are you?" your best friend's soon-to-be one night stand asked with a hint of arrogance in her voice, looking at you from head to toe while you were walking to the open kitchen of your apartment. "We want to be alone." "Gyeom, could you tell your toys that I'm also living here when you take them home?" you sighed loudly, taking a glass of cold water and drinking it in one go. "Toys?!" she choked and stood up, coming angrily towards you. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" "I think I'm the one who will break your knees and make you swallow your teeth if you don't watch your tone," you calmly answered, facing and giving her a fake smile. "What's wrong, honey?" Yugyeom finally spoke, coming to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, not giving any attention to the girl who was staring at both of you with eyes wide open. "Long day," you told him, closing your eyes and tilting a bit your head when he softly put a kiss on it. Not understanding what was going on, Yugyeom's "date" furiously picked up her stuff and started to walk to the front door when she noticed your best friend didn't try to stop her. His arms still around you, he told her from the kitchen it was nice to know her and wished her a good night before hearing the door slam. Even if you weren't sorry at all, you still apologised to your friend for ruining his plans but, putting his lips back against your head, Yugyeom told you not to mention it. You were far more important than that chick and a movie night with you always sounded better than anything else for him. A discreet chuckle parted your lips when you heard these words because you knew he meant them, you knew you were more important than those girls to him. You were his best friend, his lovely little woman, his honey like he always called you, his everything. Sometimes, he even told you he would date you if you weren't that perfect for him. And, everytime, it broke your heart a bit more. But, everytime, you forgave him for being this stupid handsome man and ended on the couch, nestled in his arms, listening to his heartbeat while a movie was playing on the TV and he slowly stroke your hair.

"And how long this shitty situation will last?" Jaebeom asked, sipping his beer at the counter while you were serving another bottle to Jinyoung. "Yugyeom can be really oblivious and he could take time before figuring out your feelings." "Take time?" Jinyoung repeated, chuckling. "I would say an eternity. We are talking about Yugyeom." "I really want to tell you to be nicer with him but... You're totally right," you sighed, taking a sip of your soda and making the three of you laugh. You really loved these men, they were like older brothers for you and always gave you pretty good advices, except when Jinyoung told you to kick Yugyeom's ass, though... Anyway! Even if they were Yugyeom's friends first, when they met you, they immediately welcomed you in the group and acted like if you were their mascot, protecting and taking care of you as if they knew you since forever. Jinyoung was the first to notice the feelings you had for your best friend and, patting your shoulder, told you it would be a long hard way before opening Yugyeom's eyes. He didn't want to discourage you but, like Jaebeom, he just wanted you to be happy and not waste your time for someone who couldn't see how nice and sweet you were. "So, how long will you endure this?" Jaebeom asked once again, giving you a kind of concerned look. You slightly opened your mouth to answer you would talk with Yugyeom about the situation and your feelings when your best friend entered the bar, a large smile on his lips, waving at the three of you. You felt your heart race in your chest when he sat next to his friends but it broke as soon as Seolhyun, your beautiful new co-worker, joined you to ask how she could cancel an order on the cash desk, apologising for the inconvenience. You never saw Yugyeom looking at a woman like that, you never saw that many stars in his mesmerizing eyes. At this moment, you knew what you had to do and, before following the young woman to show her how to cancel that order, you looked at Jinyoung and Jaebeom. "It ends today."

Another day went and you found yourself alone in your new studio, watching a horror movie you probably watched a hundred times before, eating some junk food and thinking about your last disastrous date. After that day at the bar, Yugyeom asked you to introduce him to Seolhyun and, heartbroken, you accepted, knowing your co-worker was, after all, a nice woman. They started dating and, after almost a month, when you noticed Seolhyun was spending a lot of time at your apartment and when it became too hard to handle for you, you decided to move out, renting a small studio alone, not far away from your workplace. Caught off guard, Yugyeom didn't understand why you wanted to move away from him so suddenly, asking if he did something wrong, promising you not to do it again, breaking your heart even more without knowing it. Faking an amused smile like a pro, you told him you just wanted to give him space since he was, visibly, in a serious relationship, adding he could always come at your place anytime he wanted, giving him a spare key of your apartment. At first, you thought that living alone would help you moving on, to forget the feelings you had for your best friends, you really wished that. You even tried to date some men who, you had to admit, were as handsome, smart and funny. But there was a problem... They weren't Yugyeom. All your dates have led to nothing and, in the end, you ended staying just friends with these guys. Thinking about it, you believed it was better like that, you didn't want to use them to forget your long one-sided love, they didn't deserve that. On his side, your best friend was kind of living the same thing. Seolhyun made him happy but not like you did. She didn't smile like you would when he was coming back home. She didn't sigh like you did when he kissed the side of her head. The contact of her skin wasn't as sweet as yours even if his girlfriend's skin had nothing wrong. Seolhyun wasn't you and, day after day, it became a bit too hard to handle for the young man. "Hey, Gyeom, what's up?" you friendly asked when you picked up his call. "I miss you," he pouted on the other end of the line. "I want to see you." "We just saw each other three hours ago," you chuckled, sitting onto your couch, a cup of hot chocolate in your free hand. "Take Seolhyun on a romantic date. I can give you some good addresses if you want to." "I broke up with her," he dropped, hearing you gasp slightly and chuckling discreetly at how your face would look like at the moment. "She's cool but I think I didn't really love her. So! Now she won't come here anymore, you can come back!" Your heart dropped in your chest, weighing like a rock and making you suffer like it never did before. Of course, you wanted to come back. Of course, you wanted to run in Yugyeom's arms and spend other long movie nights snuggled against his chest. Of course, you wanted to be by his side. But, you couldn't, it was too hard for you and you promised not to fall into this again. Slightly, you sighed and then told him you preferred to stay at yours, lying about the fact you liked your studio. Clenching his teeth and pretending he understood, Yugyeom agreed, asking what you were doing the day after and proposing a movie night together since you didn't spend one together since he started dating your co-worker. "I'm pretty busy that week," you lied once again, not wanting to tell him you planned a few dates with a guy, Kim Sangjin, that Jinyoung introduced to you a few days ago. "I'll call you as soon as I have time, I promise," you sadly smiled before wishing him a good night and hanging up. Your phone in your hand, you looked at your lock screen - a picture of Yugyeom and you - letting your tears roll down your cheeks without trying to hold them when your best friend's name popped up. Gyeom: I know you will come back at home. You can't live without me. Love you, honey. It was stronger than you and you threw your phone against the wall, seeing it explode against the wallpaper. You promised yourself that, if you couldn't move on, you at least wouldn't fall into that shitty situation again, you wouldn't fall deeper for Yugyeom but your heart was deciding otherwise. The joy in his voice when he said you could come back was echoing in your head. His words, that were absolutely true, were flashing before your eyes. He was right, you couldn't live without him but you had no choice.

Jaebeom and Jinyoung were sipping their beers at the counter and waiting for their girlfriends when, putting back his bottle on the varnished wood, Jaebeom asked his friend if he thought you would gave a chance to date Sangjin after everything you have been going through because of Yugyeom. "Honestly, I don't know," Jinyoung shrugged, putting his bottle next his friend's. "I think it will take time for her to forget this idiot but I really hope she will managed to do it. Y/n is a good girl, she deserves to be happy and move on. I don't know if she will give Sangjin his chance but if he can help her forget about Yugyeom, she should give it a chance." "Why would Y/n want to forget me?" Yugyeom suddenly asked behind his friends, frowning. "And who is Sangjin?" "Because you're a fucking idiot," Jaebeom sighed without turning to the youngest and took a sip of his beer. "And Sangjin could be Y/n's future boyfriend with a little luck," Jinyoung added, imitating his best friend. "Where are they?" Jaebeom asked why Yugyeom wanted to know where he could find you but your best friend cut him off, forcing him to turn around and face him while growling at the elders to tell him where you were. "Don't you think she's suffered enough because of you?" Jinyoung asked, glaring at Yugyeom. "You're so stupid and blind that you never saw the feelings she's always had for you." "Now that she can be happy, you want to ruin it?" Jaebeom added, taking off Yugyeom's hand from his shoulder. "You don't deserve her." "Please. Just tell me where they are," Yugyeom almost begged, head down, his lower jaw shaking slightly. "I just want to talk to her." The two elders looked at each other, a brow raised and gave in with a sigh. Telling their younger not to make you suffer once again or they would come after him, they told him he could find you in a coffee shop four blocks from the bar. Immediately, Yugyeom left the bar and ran to your dating place, hoping there was still a chance. Hoping he still had a chance. In the coffee shop, next to the window that allowed people to watch the street life, you were waiting for Sangjin. He sent you a text ten minutes ago, saying he would be late for your third date because there was a little emergency with one of his friends. When you read his message, you couldn't help but chuckle, thinking about how many people would take this kind of message pretty badly, while you were just understanding and answering that there wasn't any problem and you would wait for him. If you had to be honest, and even if you tried your best to make things work with Sangjin, deep inside, you knew you would never fall in love with him. Although he was nice and funny, he was still missing something, something you always looked for in men and that only Yugyeom had. You couldn't say what but you knew it was the reason why you couldn't love someone else than your best friend. Even if you promised yourself, Jaebeom and Jinyoung, not to let anyone make you suffer ever again, lately, you couldn't not think about your last movie night with Yugyeom. Not wanting him to feel put aside or left behind, you agreed to one of those Wednesday nights and as usual, it was great. Well, no, it wasn't as usual and it wasn't great. It was different, almost perfect. When you were both living together, it wasn't unusual that you ended in each other arms, cuddled on the couch, kissed each other’s forehead or, sometimes, even shared the same bed. And these mornings were the best. You loved opening your eyes and seeing his face inches aways from yours, a slight smile stretching his lips. Damn you wanted to kiss him every single time! But, on that Wednesday night, you didn't sleep at Yugyeom's, you just spent the night watching a movie you already saw a lot of times but still liked, nestled in his arms, your head on his chest while his chin was on the top of your head and his fingers softly running along your arm. Even if you already spent a hundred of nights like this one, that night seemed different, Yugyeom seemed different. His touch, his voice, his heartbeat or the way he was looking at you. Everything seemed different. A long sigh parting your lips, you tried to throw your thoughts away when the door of the coffee shop opened. Raising your head up with a smile on your lips, you were expecting to see Sangjin but the man who walked to your table wasn't him. He was the one you wanted to forget. "What are you-" you started to ask when Yugyeom picked up your bag and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to stand up and leave the place while everyone's eyes were on you. He wasn't listening to you, bringing you away from the coffee shop with his fingers tightly gripped around your wrist and anger in his eyes. "It hurts, Gyeom!" you shouted, taking off your arm from his grip and massaging it, making your best friend turn to you, mouth slightly open. "What's wrong with you? Are you crazy?!" "Who's that Sangjin?" Yugyeom almost growled, trying to hide the pain in his voice. "Did you avoid me because of him?" "Gyeom, it's not what-" "Tell me!" "I'm not avoiding you, It's just that-" "That you want to forget me for this bastard?!" he cut you off once again, a mix of so many feelings in his voice. "Do you want to date him? Really?" "Let me finish, please," you sighed, lowering your head and swallowing. "I'm tired, Gyeom, I really am. I'm tired of our game, I'm tired to play the perfect best friend when I want to be more than that. I want someone who really loves me, I want someone who can give me the affection and attention I need. There was a time I thought you could be that person," you told him, raising your head and looking straight into his beautiful eyes without noticing the tears that were escaping from yours. "But I was wrong. I loved you, Gyeom, I loved you with all my heart and, somehow, I always will but I can’t play this game anymore. It hurts too much." Softly, you cupped his face between your hands and, tip-toeing, put a chaste kiss on his lips, whispering you wished him to be happy before turning and leaving.

Standing in front of the countertop while making your daily smoothie and bobbing your head to the rhythm of the music playing in the living room, you didn't notice the young man coming behind you until he wrapped an arm around your waist and landed a hand on your left hip. Softly, he nuzzled his nose in your neck, his wet hair dripping on your shoulder and water running down your spine. You couldn't help but shiver and closed your eyes, tilting your head on the side where he put a kiss right behind your ear. "Smells good," the young man whispered before sinking into your neck once more. "What are you making tonight?” "Banana, red berries and, as always, rice milk," you listed, dropping all the fruits in the blender before adding the healthy drink. "Your ears." You knew he didn't really like the sound of the household appliance but, instead of putting his hands on his ears, he covered yours, making you chuckle slightly. As soon as the smoothie was ready to be poured in the glasses, your boyfriend wrapped his arm around your middle again and released a low growl when your phone vibrated in your shorts’ back-pocket. You both knew who was texting you. The man behind you didn't like the fact you were receiving messages from a guy, especially this one and, trying to keep his anger to himself, asked if he could finally leave you alone. "Be nice with him, please. He just misses me," you slightly chuckled, hitting his ribs playfully with your elbow. "He was late, he lost." "Actually, you were late," you reminded him, giving your boyfriend a quick look before focusing on the glasses you were filling. "He almost succeeded, by the way. I really wanted to go back to him." "But you didn't," he replied, tightening his grip around your waist. "And he's pretty mad at you about that," you couldn't help but laugh when he told you the other man could come after him and that he would fight and win anyway. "That's a pretty good idea. Your bodies covered by sweat while you would be both fighting for me. Oh, I’m shivering!" You laughed once again when your boyfriend playfully sunk his teeth into your skin and softly slapped your left cheek before squeezing it through the fabric of your shorts. Whispering he would wait for you on the balcony, he brought two slices of the apple pie you cooked that day and left the kitchen, starting to eat his share on his way. Smoothies in hands, you joined him a few seconds later and sat next to him in the two persons egg chair, your legs on his lap. Raising an eyebrow, your boyfriend wondered why you weren't answering to the other man’s text but you replied your friend could wait. "Do you regret, sometimes?" he shyly asked, looking straight as you, concerne visible in his eyes. "Oh! Each day of my life," you teased before coming closer to him and sat on his lap, your left arm wrapped around his neck. "Why do you think I would regret?" "Like you said, you really wanted to go back to him." "But you left me no choice and I'm glad you did," you smiled, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away slowly and look at him, softly removing a few strands of hair away from his face. "I'm glad you came back home, honey." Biting your lower lip while a smile stretched the corners of your mouth, you couldn't help but think about that day once again. Your heart broke a little every time Yugyeom's face - when you left him at this street corner - appeared in your mind. You remembered how your tears flooded your cheeks and how it was impossible for you to hold them back. After what happened, you couldn't go back to the coffee shop for your date with Sangjin so, hands shaking like leaves, you sent him a text saying - or rather lying, that you were starting to feel sick when you were waiting for him and went back home. You didn't remember how many tissues you used that night, crying onto your couch, trying to understand why it was happening to you, but you remembered the trash you put next to the coffee table was full. So many questions were turning in loop in your head but the most important one was: Why did you reject Yugyeom like that when he finally seemed to share your feelings? Or.. did he really shared them or was he just afraid to lose you? Angry about not having any answer, you screamed into a pillow when the doorbell rang. Without moving, you asked who was coming that late and your eyes widened when you recognized Yugyeom's voice. "Open the door, Y/n." "You have a spare key," you replied, hoping he wouldn't use it. "Please, open that door." A long sigh parting your lips, you stood up and, as he wanted, opened the door, immediately noticing his red and puffy eyes. He cried, maybe as much as you. "Was it really a game for you?" Yugyeom asked, swallowing. "It seemed to be," you answered slowly, lowering your head. "Then game over," the young man replied, quickly cupping your face in-between his hands and pulling you into a feverish kiss. Bewildered, you pushed him away, looking straight at him with your mouth slightly open. What just happened? Frowning, you stared at him when you saw the discreet smile he was trying to hold back. "If it's another ga-" "I told you, honey," he cut you off, making a step towards you. "Game over. I don't want to play anymore, not with you." Heart racing in your chest, you couldn't give any other answer than kiss him back, your arms tightly wrapped around his neck while his were around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. "Would you open the door if someone else came that night?" Yugyeom asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and knowing exactly what you were thinking about. "I don't know. Would you use your key if I didn't?" you asked back, frowning when you saw him shook his head as a no. "Why?" "Because if you didn't open that door, I would understand I had no chance to have you back," he honestly answered, tucking one of your locks behind your ear. "But I'm glad you did." Smiling, you nodded, making him understand you were glad too by letting him pull you into a sweet kiss.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ⁓•⁓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Thank you for reading! 💜 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⁓•⁓

[pain-somnia]

ssm 2k20 day 1: stuck with you Title: us and these walls Rating: M (for sexual content) Disclaimer Day’s Notes: this prompt was selected by my patrons on Patreon and I decided to make it a modern au...a quarantine au lmao so here’s a smutty quarantine au for y’all I hope it’s enjoyable. As a heads up SasoObi is mentioned often throughout the fic and it’s a minor pairing...well it’s Sasori/Obito/Third Kazekage but they’re background. I mostly put them in there for Kitty who made me fall in love with SasoObi lol this is super late but I hadn’t planned on any of my entries to be long and I failed ‘cause this is long. This fic was almost longer than it is.

us and these walls

It started with a couple of White Claws. And it ended with Sakura in the wrong bed and severely under dressed.

Sakura woke up with a start, giving an unattractive snort before clutching her aching head. The throbbing around her eyes delayed her in realizing that there was an arm slung around her waist and something hard poking at her ass.

No, Sakura grumbled inwardly. No no no no.

She already knew exactly who was in bed with her. There was only one person that she had been stuck with for the past two weeks in her cousin Sasori’s house.

Obito, Sasori’s husband, had a younger cousin that she was always grouped up with at family events because he was the closest to her age, only being eight months older than her. Other than sitting next to each other at brunch or at holiday meals, the both of them didn’t really talk much to each other. Not that Sakura didn’t want to.

Sasuke Uchiha just made it so difficult to get to know him as anything other than Obito’s ridiculously hot cousin.

Two weeks ago, Sasori had asked Obito to call Sasuke over to fix the sink in the kitchen. Sakura wasn’t sure what it was exactly that Sasuke did for a living, only that he had remodeled parts of the house before Sakura moved into her cousin’s house and he may or may not have also been the bartender in the blurry photos Ino had sent her one night many weeks ago.

Because Sasori was the way he was, Obito had called Sasuke at eleven at night and for some reason the man had responded and was awake at the time. Instead of letting him go home, Obito begged Sasuke to stay the night in the guest room.

And then the quarantine order was issued.

Somehow, Obito was able to convince Mikoto Uchiha that it was best for Sasuke to remain at his house for the quarantine. Somehow it had worked and of course Sasuke had no choice but to listen to his mother. And somehow the two of them ended up stuck living together alone because Sasori had packed his and Obito’s bags and took off.

Whoever the fuck the man that went by the moniker “Third” was, Sakura had to assume he was loaded. The morning of the second day of quarantine all she had was a note left by her cousin about where he and his husband went off to and three days later there was a post to his Instagram about how he and Obito were living it up by the pool at their boyfriend’s mansion.

It was no wonder Sasori had ditched her. She wasn’t that surprised he had. Sakura felt more betrayed by Obito.

Warm breath fanned against her temple and the arm slung around her waist pulled her in closer. Sakura adjusted herself so Sasuke’s cock nestled between her thighs instead of digging into her behind and Sasuke released a content sigh, curling around her more.

God.

This wasn’t like her. She didn’t have casual sex. Sakura had been suffering from a three year dry spell ever since she had ended her last relationship. Sakura wasn’t the kind to go out and find someone just for the sake of hooking up. She could almost hear Ino and Karin chanting in her head, “One of us. One of us. One of us.”

“Anything we need to do today?” Sasuke mumbled into her hair. Sakura tensed up. She hadn’t noticed that he had been awake.

“We already went shopping yesterday for groceries and the essentials.”

She and Sasuke tried to stock up on everything they needed the day before. They had almost ended up going home with nothing when a middle aged man without a mask on got too close and Sasuke opened up a disinfectant spray they were going to buy and sprayed him in the face.

They had also stopped at the liquor store because nothing said essential like alcohol.

Which is exactly how they ended up in their current predicament.

Sakura wasn’t sure how to take Sasuke’s behavior. He didn’t seem to mind that they had woken up naked and spooning and was even nuzzling her hair. She wasn’t opposed to the bit of affection but she would have preferred it happened when she wasn’t feeling nauseous and had a headache.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Sakura mumbled, disentangling herself from Sasuke’s hold and rushing to the hallway bathroom.

She was dry heaving and spitting up bile for all of a few seconds when she felt Sasuke’s presence next to her on the floor. He stroked her hair, pulling it back away from her face until her heaving stopped.

“Thanks for putting pants back on.”

“Yeah. Here.” Sasuke handed her a black shirt that must have been the one he had been wearing the night before. Sakura pulled it over her head and tugged it so it covered her until midway down her thighs.

Sakura was grateful that Sasuke had the mind not to turn the light on in the bathroom; the open bathroom door casted a strip of light from the hallway.

“So…” She opened the conversation, not entirely sure what it was that she was trying to say. She blanked out, not having an actual thought beyond her ass being cold from the tile floor and so she shifted so she was sitting on the fluffy bathroom mat.

“Do we, uh, need to get anything?”

Sakura scrunched up her nose in confusion. She was too hungover for conversation. Sasuke looked at her pointedly, raising a brow and it finally dawned on Sakura what he was getting at.

“Oh, no. No. I’m on the pill.” Sakura averted her gaze, chewing on her lower lip in discomfort. “And I’m clean.”

“Same.”

The both of them sat on the bathroom floor in silence for an awkward amount of time before Sasuke cleared his throat and said he needed to make a call.

Well, this is shit, Sakura groaned inwardly, pulling her knees to her chest and running her hands down her face.

.

.

Sakura kept herself busy with preparing orders for her online store. She was fortunate enough to be self-employed but there was going to be a delay with her orders because the mailman kept missing her scheduled pickups.

“Do you think Sasori would kill me for this?” Sasuke asked her, putting down his drill.

Sakura looked up from her sewing machine and up at the racks Sasuke had made for her bolts of fabric. He wasn’t able to go to any of his jobs and ended up using his free time on small projects in the house. Sasuke had helped her organize everything by creating a proper work studio in the spare room that was originally Obito’s exercise room. Sasuke had moved all of the equipment into the garage.

“Oh, definitely.” Sakura went back to stitching the pair of tulle panties with an embroidered butterfly motif. “But you put a nifty set of cubbies in his mud room.”

Sasuke moved around her to measure for a set of shelves she had wanted.

“You’re making panties?” He raised a brow at Sakura’s current project.

“Yeah they’re a parallel set to that dress.” She pointed at a mannequin with a tulle sundress with the same butterfly motif. “My shop’s name is Naughty & Nice. That’s the nice and this,” she lifted the finished pair of panties, “is the naughty.”

“Those are too cute to be naughty,” Sasuke scoffed.

“Well I also have those.” Sakura pointed to a different mannequin dressed in a custom leather harness.

“Huh.”

“Yup.”

That was how the past two weeks had gone. Sakura would work and Sasuke would exercise or keep busy making improvements to Sasori’s house. Sometimes Sakura would find him playing video games, speaking to his friends over his headset.

Sasuke had to break his lease with his landlord. It was the loudest Sakura had heard him as he argued with the man about granting him an extension to pay his rent the following month. It hadn’t sounded good and the man couldn’t be reasoned with.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, his parents thought it would be better if he continued to stay at his cousin’s house. Due to the kind of jobs his parents had—police captain and nurse—they thought it would be safer for Sasuke to stick to the house where the only other occupant didn’t leave unless she absolutely needed to.

Sasuke had placed a majority of his belongings in storage and brought over his cat and anything he thought he would need and the guest bedroom became his.

At some point Sakura became curious about his finances. He had no job that she knew of that he could do from home, but he still had money for all of the takeout that he had been ordering until Sakura had put an end to it and told him that she would cook enough for the both of them as long as he helped provide the groceries. She was used to cooking for three anyway and Sasuke ate enough to make up for Sasori and Obito.

They were the only two occupants of the house and had to work around each other. It forced them to communicate beyond the uncomfortable small talk they were accustomed to.

Sakura found it easier to carry discussions without the presence of their family members, especially that of Mikoto Uchiha who always gave her soft yet sly smiles whenever she stood or sat closely to Sasuke. It was a calculative expression she was used to seeing on her older cousin whenever he wanted something and knew he was going to get it.

As much as she wouldn’t have minded to get to know Sasuke better, Sakura was sure that whatever his mother wanted to happen wasn’t what Sasuke wanted. They had worked well together and cohabitated amicably, but the closest they got to anything beyond that was a drunken tryst that she wasn’t even sure was going to be repeated sober.

.

.

He fucked up. He had fucked up.

It started with simple boredom. Sasuke had been stuck living with his cousin’s husband’s pretty cousin because Sasori couldn’t be bothered staying in his own house during a quarantine and had blackmailed Sasuke into playing babysitter.

They had been watching a marathon of slasher films and decided on turning it into a drinking game. Sakura curled up on the small extension of the L shaped couch with her pack of White Claws and Sasuke laid out on the other end with a pack of Ithacas. Somehow that had ended up with Sasuke joining Sakura on the extension and his fingers curled inside of her panties, stroking her as she clutched onto his arm and released high pitched cries of joy.

He’s not sure how they got to a bed, but he wouldn’t doubt it if he had just thrown her tiny body over his shoulder and carried her to the guest room that had become his temporary room.

That wasn’t how Sasuke had planned on dealing with Sakura and his ridiculous crush on her that wouldn’t go away.

It hadn’t taken much convincing for him to come fix the kitchen sink in the middle of the night. Besides Sasori blackmailing him because of his OnlyFans account, Obito had sweetened the deal by mentioning that if he stayed over he would be fed a free breakfast. Obito was a mediocre cook but free was free and he would be able to spend some time in Sakura’s company without his mother hovering with her knowing smiles.

He hadn’t expected to wake up to the smell of something cooking and walking into the kitchen to find Sakura wearing nothing but a baggy cream colored button down cable knit cardigan that hit mid thigh and a pair of black thigh high socks.

Sakura hadn’t expected him either. She had thought she was home alone because of a note from Sasori explaining that he and Obito had taken off to their boyfriend’s place. Sakura had called Sasori immediately for answers, but he didn’t pick up his phone.

At least, that’s what her flushed face and drawn down brows made it seem like. He hadn’t been paying attention to the phone calls she was trying to make but to the curve of her pert breasts that peeked from the v-cut of her cardigan. Sakura hadn’t been wearing a bra and he just wanted to drag his tongue up her sternum.

He was distracted from those dangerous thoughts when he received a phone call from his mother about the quarantine orders and how Obito had already told her that Sasuke was staying at his house. Sasuke didn’t have much room for an argument, especially considering his landlord Kakuzu wouldn’t give him an extension for his rent and Sasuke had had enough and broke his lease.

He cursed Kiba for moving out to live with the blondie he had been dating for the past few months and had only made it official a month ago. Kiba had been mostly staying over there and using Sasuke’s and his place for storage so it had made sense for him to officially move in but that had left Sasuke with paying the full rent on his own because he refused to move.

That decision was biting him in the ass now that he couldn’t bartend or go do some jobs as a contractor. He was heavily relying on his not safe for work accounts where he posted nudes for pay.

And speaking of not being safe for work…

It was three days after the drunken bedroom incident and Sakura needed help taking photographs for her online shop.

When Sakura had told him what she did for work he had been impressed that she had owned her own business and at how talented she was. When she told him that usually Sasori modeled her prototypes and she took the photos for her site, he was slightly disturbed. Looking at Sakura wearing her dresses and her lingerie, he couldn’t imagine Sasori wearing the same things and it looking as well as it did on her.

There may be some bias though. He was actually attracted to Sakura and he and Sasori were more enemies than they were friends and unfortunately related because Sasori was married to Obito.

“Move your arm back like this,” Sasuke instructed Sakura as she posed in a tulle panty and bra set that left nothing to the imagination. The butterfly patterns tastefully covered her nipples but didn’t do much to completely hide the small, pink thatch of hair between her thighs.

He was supposed to be focusing on showing off the lingerie to advantage, but his eyes kept drifting to the small bruises scattered on Sakura’s inner thighs and the red blooms of kiss marks that made her body look well loved.

“I can edit those out,” Sakura remarked shyly when she noticed where his gaze was directed. “I do it for Sasori for my site. He prefers keeping them though for his personal collection of photos.”

“I didn’t need to know that about Sasori.”

Sakura laughed at his discomfort and took her camera back from him. “Thanks again for the help.”

“Any time,” Sasuke muttered, watching her walk through the living room and down the hall to her bedroom.

.

.

Sasuke had the terrible━wonderful━habit of going without a shirt and exposing his tattoos when he was stuck inside all day.

It had been barely five days since their drunken mistake and the hickeys all over her body and bruises on her inner thighs and hips from the rough pounding she must have taken had yet to completely heal. Which also meant that the scratch marks on Sasuke’s shoulder blades, the hickeys all over his neck, and the bite mark on his left shoulder were still visible as well.

They hadn’t discussed what had happened. They spent the first day in an awkward state of avoidance and kept to their respective areas in the house. The second day had them going back to normal and just silently agreeing not to mention it.

But the curiosity was there now. It was there when they shared meals. It was there when he walked in from the garage after working out. It was there when he lazily strummed his guitar aimlessly. It was there when she finished her yoga routine and he was waiting to use the living room to watch or play Call of Duty.

It was there when they sat around reading in the living room and drinking tea. It was there when he made sure she took proper breaks instead of keeping herself hunched over her sewing and embroidery machines. It was there when she randomly heard his drill or hammer or the dragging of planks of wood and other materials into the house when he found something to fix or improve.

The curiosity became a yearning when she found him laid out on the couch, watching some aquarium building show. Sasuke just looked so cozy and she just wanted to curl up with him. Or straddle him.

Straddling him was definitely a favorable option.

Sasuke was immediately on alert, body stiffening under Sakura as she settled herself over him, straddling his hips. His hands slid across the sides of her bare thighs and over her small cotton shorts, until he gripped her hips through her thick oversized pullover.

He watched her warily as she pressed her hands on his stomach. His abdominal muscles twitched under her fingers as she slid her hands up his stomach.

“I was thinking…” Sakura’s cheeks heated up as Sasuke’s hands slid under her sweater and he took hold of her waist, his thumbs massaging circles on her skin. “Do you want to try it sober?”

Sasuke sat up faster than Sakura had expected him to move. In lieu of an answer to her question, he gripped the back of her neck, fisting her hair still damp from her shower, and pulled her closer to slant his mouth over hers.

There had been heated stares and what Sakura had hoped were looks of longing. Here was proof that she had been right.

Sakura sighed contently as Sasuke palmed her breasts, squeezing and fondling her with his large hands. Pulling back for air, Sasuke laid his forehead on hers, looking her directly in the eye as he continued to massage her flesh and tug at her nipples and roll them under his thumbs.

“You sure about this?”

“Absolutely.” Sakura cradled the back of his neck with both of her hands and pulled his mouth back to hers. Using her hold as an anchor, she fell back slowly, guiding Sasuke to follow her and nestle in the cradle of her thighs.

Sasuke pulled back, giving Sakura room to remove her sweater. It had barely been tossed aside when he returned to her, pressing kisses to her stomach and trailing his mouth up to her breasts, sucking on the underside of them before rolling her nipples with his tongue.

While Sasuke laved at her nipples and sucked on the flesh of her pert breasts, he worked on sliding her shorts off. When he didn’t find anything under them except for skin he looked up at her, head cocked quizzically.

“I planned to be out of them so why bother putting on undergarments?”

“Next time,” Sasuke pressed a kiss to her knee and then the other, “let me take them off.”

“Next time,” Sakura’s breath hitched as he gave her clit a flick of his tongue, “huh?”

The look Sasuke gave her was all heat as he sucked one of her nether lips into his mouth before working her with his tongue. Sakura sank her fingers into his thick, black hair and wondered if he had done this for her the other night. If he had it was a shame she couldn’t recall it or had a heads up to just how wonderful Sasuke’s tongue was. Her fingers tightened their hold on his hair, keeping him in place as her thighs trembled around his head. She cried out, high and sharp, when Sasuke pressed deeper into her, his tongue working harder as he alternated between strokes and suckling on her hardened little nub as if it was his reason for existing.

Sakura’s ankles locked behind Sasuke’s shoulders as her hips grinded against his mouth to chase the wave of her orgasm. With a keening cry she collapsed back onto the couch, her chest heaving from exertion. As she tried to control her breathing, Sasuke made his way back up her body, pressing kisses and nips to every bit of skin he could. Humming with satisfaction, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him back up so she could kiss him hard, tasting herself as she rolled her tongue against his.

“Take off your pants,” Sakura panted, sliding her hands down to the waistband of Sasuke’s sweatpants.

Sasuke shook his head and licked up her sternum with one sure lick, pressing his tongue hard between her breasts. “Turn around.”

His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against her breastbone, and causing a shiver to run down her spine. He used a hand to guide her to turning around until she was stomach down on the couch. With her back exposed to him, Sasuke pressed open mouth kisses down her spine. She flinched when he reached the center of her back, the spot surprisingly sensitive. He palmed her ass with both hands, massaging the cheeks before biting down on a fleshy area.

“Hey!” Sakura squealed at the sensation. He chuckled against her, sliding a hand between her thighs to where she was softest.

“I think you liked that.” He stroked her with his fingers, spreading her folds and dipping his middle and ring fingers inside of her. “I know you liked that.”

“Hmm, maybe I did.” Sakura pressed her cheek to the couch cushion and lifted her rump higher in the air and rocked her hips from side to side teasingly.

Sasuke sat up on his knees and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her closer to him. He pressed his hips against her and rocked back and forth, his clothed, hardened length digging against her core. Sakura moaned softly against the couch cushion as Sasuke grinded against her in alternating rhythms.

“Just put it in already,” Sakura pleaded.

“Fuck,” Sasuke hissed as she rocked back against him. “Do you want me to go get a condom? I think Obito has some in the master bedroom.”

“Don’t bother,” Sakura panted. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Alright.”

Sasuke stood up and pulled his sweatpants and boxers off. He helped her turn back around and settled himself between her legs. Bracing himself on one forearm, Sasuke licked his fingers and rubbed the tip of his cock before taking himself in hand and gave himself four quick pumps before guiding himself inside of her wet heat.

Sakura moaned at the fullness as he stretched her pleasantly. She cupped his face in her hands once again and kissed him wherever she could reach with her mouth—his chin, the corner of his mouth, his upper lip. She hadn’t realized how empty and aching she was feeling until this moment.

“You good?” Sasuke asked, keeping still but adjusting her legs around his hips for her comfort.

Sakura nodded, wrapping her arms under his armpits and clutched his shoulders. She tilted her hips up and rolled them until he began to thrust.

She didn’t know if this was how they did it the other night, but she was enjoying it. Sakura expected him to grope at her breasts and her ass as he pounded into her, but Sasuke kept to a steady pace and with his forearms caging her head, he wrapped her hair around his fingers and kissed her languidly. It was so warm and affectionate she almost forgot that it started as her just wanting a fuck on the couch to figure out if it was as good as she had thought it would be and to make up for being robbed of the experience by her inebriation.

“Harder,” Sakura demanded and without missing a beat Sasuke gave her exactly what she asked for.

He sat up on his knees and lifted her legs straight up so that her ankles crossed behind his head and he thrust harder, holding onto her knees to keep her in place. One of his legs slipped onto the ground so that he could brace himself with his foot and make sure they didn’t fall off the couch.

“You feel so good,” he praised her, kissing her left inner ankle.

“Yeah?” Sakura smiled mischievously up at him and squeezed the muscles of her core, causing Sasuke to falter in his movements. She giggled at his expense but choked on air when he readjusted his footing and thrust particularly hard into her.

Sasuke pushed her knees up into her chest and held her there as he set a punishing pace, hitting her repeatedly in a spot she liked. Her staccato cries of joy filled the room, drowning out the sound of the television.

She fell apart again and Sasuke slowed down his thrusting in favor of feeling her flutter around him and kissing her lazily. They lay like that, him still inside of her, and they exchanged kisses.

“Your turn,” Sakura murmured against his mouth as he stroked her side, brushing her ribs with his knuckles.

“Flip over,” Sasuke ordered, voice low and causing her stomach to clench in anticipation. Settling behind her, Sasuke chased his finish, his chest pressed to her back and panting in her ear.

They both collapsed on the couch and Sasuke turned on his side so that he could pull Sakura against him. They lay in a boneless sort of manner and sated, intertwining their legs and their bodies slick with sweat.

After a moment of silence, Sakura spoke up.

“Well that was definitely better sober.”

Sasuke snorted, his silent laughter rumbling in his chest and vibrating against Sakura’s back.

.

.

He was supposed to be getting some water. Somehow a trip for water turned into him making out with Sakura. She was seated on the kitchen island and he stood between her legs, one hand pressed to the small of her back and the other cradling her face.

“I’m supposed to be making dinner,” she whined but made no move to pull away. She gasped when Sasuke slid his hand between her thighs.

“We can order pizza.”

.

.

She couldn’t remember what her question was. Not with the way Sasuke moved underneath her, breaking her rhythm and holding her hips down to meet his every thrust. He had her crying out and collapsing onto him, weak to his relentless pounding.

Sakura panted, struggling to catch her breath after they both came, as Sasuke rubbed her back soothingly.

“Yeah, I’ll change the bulb in the hallway closet.”

That was the question? Sakura frowned against Sasuke’s clavicle. Well, alright then.

.

.

“Shut up!”

Sakura hid her face in her hands, trapping the heat radiating off of it with her palms.

“Tell us everything,” Ino insisted. Karin nodded vigorously in agreement from her window on Sakura’s monitor.

The three of them were using Zoom to video chat and it was supposed to be wine and movie night, but it had instead turned into a gossip session now that Sakura admitted to them that her three year dry spell had ended during the quarantine.

“We keep fucking,” Sakura whined, pulling her knees up to her chest and falling sideways on her bed. “He’s like the fucking energizer bunny: just keeps going and going.”

Karin snorted, earning herself a glare from Sakura. “How is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not.” Sakura chewed on her lower lip. “We hang out and do other stuff too.”

“Like what?” Ino asked, blowing on her nails. She had taken out her nail polish and had given herself a pedicure as she waited for Karin to pick their movie and their change in plans hadn’t stopped her from continuing.

“We watch movies and take care of Obito’s garden and his plants. I’m teaching him how to cook.” Sakura sighed and groaned softly under her breath, “We take naps together and just...cuddle.”

Besides sex being added to the list of their activities, the only change to their cohabitation was that sometimes they curled up in Sasuke’s bed just to sleep together or hold each other as they lay in the comfort of the blankets. It sometimes led to sex, but that wasn’t the goal. They simply liked being together and exchanging kisses between the sheets and listening to music.

It was sometimes more enjoyable than when he was making her come like a train. Sometimes. Alright, always. Coming was nice but she had a drawer of toys for that. She couldn’t cuddle and joke with her vibrator.

“Now that you’re boning him,” Karin smirked at her, “do you think you can introduce me to his older brother?”

The three of them burst into laughter, Sakura burying her face into her pillow to drown out the sound.

.

.

When Sasuke had remodeled Sasori’s master bathroom, he had found a bath to install that would fit his cousin’s tall frame perfectly inside. It was for that reason he knew he and Sakura could both fit comfortably, considering he and Obito were the same height.

“This is nice,” Sakura sighed, settling between his legs and resting her back against his chest. “I thought Sasori had locked his bedroom before leaving to Third’s.”

Sasori had in fact locked his bedroom, but Sasuke had picked the lock so that he could use the master bedroom for the setting of his photos for his OnlyFans. Sasuke had money to make and he needed privacy and also didn’t want to get into Sakura’s way while she worked and took care of the house.

Things had been good so far between the two of them. They hadn’t discussed what they were doing, but Sasuke was enjoying being trapped in the house with Sakura. Her affection for him even traveled outside the walls of Sasori’s house. She would hold his hands as they walked down aisles when they went shopping for things they couldn’t order or when they went for walks around the neighborhood.

Now they were taking a bath together. Sasuke had used the large bathtub for some photos, carefully placing bubbles to cover his penis, but then making them dissipate with a flap of his hand to take uncensored shots for his Patreon tiers that involved full nudity.

It was as the water cooled and the bubbles became flat that he thought about Sakura and if she would want to relax with him.

When he suggested a bath to Sakura, her eyes lit up and she found all of the candles in the house, played some soft music, and prepared the bath with scented oils and bubbles.

“This has got to be a fire hazard.” Sasuke gestured around the room at all of the candles. Their flames reflected against the tiles of the bathroom, creating a nice ambience.

“Shhhh.” Sakura kissed the inside of his wrist, and snuggled into him more. “Don’t be a killjoy.”

Sasuke leaned back and closed his eyes. This would probably be a little better if I were high, he sighed inwardly. He should have rolled a joint before they got into the bath.

“Would this be considered a date?” Sakura asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Some people would consider it a date. I would rather be clothed during most of a date.”

“I don’t mind,” Sakura chirped. “You’re exactly how I would want you to end up anyway.”

Heat that had nothing to do with the bath traveled up the back of Sasuke’s neck and settled in his ears.

“If the world wasn’t so fucked up right now, where would you wanna go?”

“Hmm…” Sakura hummed one thought, her knees swaying from side to side. “For a walk in Old Town to get some ice cream. Maybe check out the hibachi spot and then watch the boats on the river.”

“I don’t even like ice cream and that sounds good. Just to be outside.”

Two months had passed since the quarantine had begun and Sasuke was beginning to feel restless. He didn’t usually care about going out, only really went out for work, but now that he was forced to stay inside all day, every day, he just wanted to go out and do something.

After the quarantine was over, he and Sakura were going to need to take a road trip just to feel normal again.

“My friend Karin got tested and her results were negative so she’s going to come over and give me a haircut.” Sakura tugged at the ends of her long hair. “I procrastinated getting one and then everything was shut down.”

Sasuke huffed air out of his mouth and blew at his bangs. They had grown long enough to fall to his chin. “You think she’d mind giving me a haircut too?”

.

.

Sakura couldn’t stop giggling. She rubbed the back of Sasuke’s head, right at the nape where Karin had shaved his hair so it was a close crop. She had buzzed him into an undercut before Sakura and Sasuke could say anything about it.

“I just needed a trim.” Sasuke scowled. Karin had done a really good job and the hairstyle looked great on him, but Sasuke had only wanted to take care of his unruly bangs. “If I put my glasses on, I’ll look like a wannabe Skrillex.”

Sakura snorted, curling up in his lap. “His undercut is on the side like Karin’s. Yours is on the back.”

“Whatever. Don’t you dare give her my brother’s phone number.” Sasuke ran his fingers through Sakura’s new bob cut and kissed her forehead. “Anything you wanna do before bedtime?”

For the past few weeks they had tried to make sure they were preoccupied so that they wouldn’t get bored. Sakura was still attempting to teach him to cook but she has better results teaching him yoga.

“We could have a Lord of the Rings marathon?” Sakura wrinkled her nose in thought. “I can work on some crochet crop tops while we watch.”

They had settled into a comfortable, domestic routine. Sakura was enjoying living with Sasuke and didn’t care about Sasori and Obito having ditched her. She was kind of glad they did. She was especially glad for it the week before when Sasuke made her ginger and honey tea and always had a hot water bottle ready for her when the cramps got really bad. Sasori had the weird idea to feed her liver whenever she was on her period. He never cooked it, always handing it to her raw.

It was nice living with Sasuke. Sakura wasn’t looking forward to when Sasori and Obito returned and ruined the tranquility they had.

She prayed things wouldn’t change when they were around other people. That they wouldn’t go back to how they used to be when they sat awkwardly next to each other at holidays.

.

.

Usually a morning person, Sakura was always first to wake up out of the both of them.

She woke to the feeling of him pressed against her back, erection settling against her ass and warm breath puffing against her nape. His arm wrapped around her body and held to her chest as her fingers were laced with his.

“Sasuke.” Sakura attempted to separate their limbs. “Sasuke. We fell asleep on the couch again.”

Sasori’s couch was ridiculously comfortable and with the wide extension sticking out to make its L shape, Sakura found herself falling asleep on it often. During the quarantine she always lay there when watching TV or movies which was pretty typical from pre-quarantine life, but now instead of selfishly taking up the best spot, she was sharing it with Sasuke who was surprisingly cuddly.

“Sasuke,” Sakura whined. The more she tried to pull away, the more he clung to her. She disentangled their legs and he bit down softly on the back of her neck. “I have morning breath and, dude, I definitely need a shower…”

“Like I care.”

Sasuke was talented at distracting her. One moment she wanted to get ready for the day and in the next all she wanted was to roll around in bed all day. Sakura made no protest when Sasuke helped her remove one of the shirts she kept stealing from him and pulled off her sweatpants and tugged her panties off. Thanks to Sasuke, she was spending an incredible amount of time naked on Sasori’s couch.

“I was supposed to,” Sakura’s breath hitched when Sasuke bit the inside of her left thigh, “be making breakfast.”

“This is preferable,” he murmured against her folds, burying his face between her legs.

During the weeks of their cohabitation, Sakura had discovered that Sasuke liked going down on her more than he enjoyed when she returned the favor. He apparently liked to take advantage of the fact that she could have more than one orgasm in a single round of sex and even though getting blown was nice, he didn’t like the recovery time or how sensitive he became afterward.

Sasuke was in the middle of getting her to the first orgasm he wanted to give her when the front door opened. Not that Sasuke or Sakura had noticed.

“Oh my God,” Sakura sighed breathily, sinking her fingers into Sasuke’s hair.

“Oh my God!” Obito cried out, snapping Sakura out of her pleasure induced daze.

“My couch!” Sasori hissed, eyes narrowed in distaste.

Sakura sat up, almost kicking Sasuke in the face, and saw both her cousin and his husband and a giant man almost half a foot taller than Obito on the other side of the couch.

“Oh my God,” Sakura moaned softly in horror, grabbing the throw she kept on the couch and wrapping it around her body. Sasuke straightened himself and took a seat next to her, bare as the day he was born, cock hard and hair mussed, with a shiny smear on his chin from the activity that had just been interrupted.

“Holy shit, Shisui was right.” Obito stared in awe at Sasuke’s crotch, only snapping his attention away when Sasori slapped his arm and shot him a look of disgust. “What? I thought he was exaggerating how big it was. Oh, fuck. I owe him one-fifty now.”

Sasori rolled his eyes and made his way to the kitchen, calling out behind him, “Please tell me you mean a dollar and change.”

Obito rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “No. Hundred fifty.”

“Hello.” The giant man waved at Sasuke and Sakura, flashing them what in a normal situation would have been a charming smile if it weren’t for the severe lack of clothing and what he had walked in on. “I’m Third, It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. He put it down as soon as he realized they weren’t going to shake his hand. “We came over because Obito has been raving about your cinnamon chip scones and Sasori said that you could teach me to make them for him.”

“You could have called first,” Sasuke drawled, bending over at the waist to reach for his sweatpants and boxer briefs.

“You could have not been fucking on my couch!” Sasori’s voice carried in from the kitchen, followed by the slamming of cupboard doors.

Sakura rolled her eyes and stood up, careful to keep the throw wrapped around her body. Leave it to her to be caught by her cousin, his husband, and their boyfriend getting eaten out in the early morning in the middle of the living room.

“Come back in one hour and I’ll teach you how to bake anything you want,” She told Third, craning her neck to be able to look him directly in the eye. “But you gotta take them with you.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Much faster than she expected someone of such great bulk to move, Third was escorting Sasori and Obito━who had already found her homemade yogurt and was eating it━out of the house.

“Are you really going to be teaching their boyfriend to bake?” Sasuke asked, yanking his pants up and following her as she walked to her bedroom. Sakura snorted and shook her head.

“I can teach him over FaceTime. We’re changing the fucking locks.”

.

.

Day’s Notes: There’s a high chance I may revisit this AU because I used some AU ideas of mine and mashed them up to make this fic and I’m very attached to my OnlyFans Sasuke AU. I have so much to write for it.

[enby-hawke]

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence                     

Category:F/M

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, exploration of race and class dynamics, eventual smut

So here it is after 3 years of talking about it and then trying to turn it into a comic, I’m kicking it out because it doesn’t pay rent and I have other stories to tell. Here it is. Hope you enjoy. 

----

“I still do not understand what taste is,” the spirit somehow huffed. Malcolm knew it was a mistake to respond at all. The red specter hovered on the edge of Malcolm’s bed, it’s angry red glow a contrast to the murky green that the Fade was hazed in. It had somehow got in again, into the sanctum where he allowed his mind to rest as he guarded the dreamers of Kirkwall. Malcolm could have made his sanctum look like anything, but he didn’t bother giving himself the illusion he was anywhere else but his Circle cell. The thin sandpaper sheets did nothing to soften the metal bed underneath him. The cell had barely enough room for his dresser and desk that he used to do his studies, which he spent more time doodling on than learning. Even here he could still smell the faint aroma of the toilet that was next to his bed. Still, as unpleasant as his sanctum was, he needed a strong sensation to anchor his body, especially if he was going to battle a demon tonight.

Malcolm took in a stale breath, held it for 4 seconds, and gently let it go. It was important that no matter what happened, he remained calm.

The shimmering of the phantom became more urgent, more vibrant. Malcolm continued to ignore it, even turning his head and body away to make a point, but it didn’t seem to stop the creature from trying to dart into view, insistent on having his question answered. After the third turn of his head, the demon reached and gave one of Malcolm’s pointy ears a firm yank, screaming, “Can you hear me?”

On instinct, Malcolm swiped at the demon with a crackling fist, but the demon darted away. The sparks in Malcolm’s hand arced wildly as he leveled it at his target. “Fuck off, demon. I told you, one question.”

The wraith started to warp along with the Fade as anger emanated from Malcolm’s body. Claws started sprouting from it’s fingers and through it’s translucent skin, he could see it’s teeth starting to jut out at odd angles, but the demon made no move to fight him. “Were you listening? I am not a demon. I’m a scholar. And you are the first somniari I have come across in ages.”

The demon kept it’s distance but became more animated, gesturing with it’s gangly arms. “The last somniari only survived long enough to tell me about eating, but though I’ve tried it, the phenomenon remains perplexing.” Malcolm jumped as the demon inched closer. “Sometimes eating brings joy. Sometimes eating brings sorrow. Sometimes eating brings no emotion at all.” Quivering in curiosity, the demon then sprung forward so close to Malcolm could easily punch it. “Why somniari?”

The sparks in Malcolm’s hands died down as his eyes glazed over, caught in a memory. He saw his mother, with dark freckled brown skin, and beautiful curly hair that cascaded down her back, but her face was blurred as he failed to recall the details. Still, he remembered the smell of the plate of piping hot pancet that she placed in front of him, how the steam coming off of the unending noodles made his mouth water. She brushed his mop of curls from his eyes and kissed his forehead with a warm smile. “Happy birthday, Malcolm.”

The creature sniffed at his head as if he was about to take a huge bite. “Oh, what is that? That smells delicious!”

Malcolm swatted at the spirit as if it was an annoying fly. “Stay out of my head!”

But the spirit had already plucked the memory out of his head and dashed away a safe distance from the room. It wiggled in delight of it’s prize, and in it’s hands it materialized into a bowl of pancet. Malcolm felt a sick twist of envy as the spirit grabbed a handful of long fried noodles and shoved it into it’s mouthless face, slurping it down with wet smacking noises. “This,” sluuuurp, “memory tastes both,“ sluuuurp, “happy and sad, though the sadness is fresher.”

Malcolm, quaking in anger, rose to his feet, summoning threatening flames so high, they licked the ceiling. “Were you not warned of who I am?”

The spirit continued to eat in bliss, Malcolm’s threat no more than an annoyance. “The wisps call you,” sluurp, “Spirit Slayer.”

Malcolm raised a thick eyebrow, wondering why this spirit had no sense of self preservation. Or was this demon stronger than he thought? “So why do you risk pestering me?”

At this, the demon lowered the bowl, a mess of sauce dripping down it’s face. “Because only you can answer.”

The demon looked sadly at it’s last noodle and picked it up between it’s claws. “I, too, have lost much, somniari. I had a name once. I’ve given up trying to find it.”

“I’ve asked every stone, every wisp, but so much was lost after The Sundering. What I am, is what I have left.” The demon turned to Malcolm and though it had no eyes, he could feel it looking through him with earnest that he could feel thrumming in his heart. “So if this quest is my end, so be it.” Then it ate the noodle, looking oddly like a worm being sucked through a hole.

The flames died in Malcolm’s hands, his anger deflating with plumes of smoke. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to spare a moment.”

The words had barely left Malcolm’s mouth before his pocket started to buzz with a generic ringtone, that vibrated the air of the Fade like a tinging glass. The spirit cocked his head, confused as Malcolm dug through his pajama pockets and fished it out. “Sorry, demon, duty calls.”

“Scholar,” the spirit corrected, but Malcolm shushed him as he put it to his ear.

A terrified voice began sobbing through the speaker. “Help! Somebody help!”

Malcolm didn’t recognize the voice, so they weren’t one of the Circle mages being plagued for a meal. An apostate perhaps?

“Hello? It’s going to be alright,” Malcolm began like he always did. He raised his free hand to feel the cords of the Fade that were weaving together, trying to connect to the dreamer who rang his phone. The air around his hands shimmered like sparkling dust, faint harp-like threads connecting from the tips of his fingers.

“Hello?” the voice answered back, full of confusion. “Who is this?”

“That doesn’t matter. Can you tell me where you are?” He stepped off his bed and towards his bedroom door.

“Where I am?” the voice repeated, slick with tears. “I’m…I don’t know.”

He could feel that she was panicked, confused, disoriented, and that there was a dark aura surrounding her, stronger than he had felt in awhile. Malcolm had been sure that he had cleansed this area of the Fade of demons, but this just meant that more would come in to feed on the remnants. Malcolm closed his eyes, reaching through the phone to try to peek at her dream. “Yes, you do,” his soothing voice taking a commanding tone. “Just open your eyes and describe what you see.”

He heard her gasping for air as she struggled to breathe but eventually she sputtered out. “I’m in my bedroom. It’s filling up with water, fast. You have to hurry.”

He put his hand on the door. Through the darkness of his eyelids he began to see light, and the running rush of water filled his ears. “Describe your room to me.”

“What would it matter!?”

“It matters if I’m going to find you.”

A beat of silence registered on the phone, before she continued. “Well, it’s a room…with a closet and a bed.”

“Helpful,” Malcolm snorted before he could stop himself. Still, a misty silhouette of a closet, which was more like it’s own room, and a grand bed with a flowing cloth canopy started to form. There was a body tucked within it, nestled on a throne of pillows.

“Well I’m in a state of panic right now! Can you blame me? My clothes are getting ruined. It’ll cost a fortune to redo these carpets, not to mention-”

Malcolm sighed, trying to press on as she chattered. It never did any good to argue, but this monologue wasn’t helping. “What color are your blankets?”

“Cream…embroidered with gold thread.” The vision in his mind began to fill in with color.

“And the pattern of the embroidery?”

“Really?”

“Messere,” Malcolm gritted his teeth. “It’s important you stay calm. The more you panic the faster the water will flood.” It wasn’t a lie, but he also needed her to hurry.

She relented with a sigh, and said, “a gold-leaf rose spread.”

It took a little more coaxing, but eventually Malcolm got her to describe her wallpapers, floral and pink, and her carpet, which she insisted before the flood was a beautiful white color. She also described a bookcase, her lute, and a vanity mirror where she would get ready for the day each morning, a family heirloom, made from wood of the grove of the Emerald Graves, with brass knob handles and the symbol of her family’s crest that was carved into the wood, that showed either two ravens perched in angular stone columns, or a dragon head, depending on how you looked at it. Soon he could see the room, and could finally solidify the flimsy connection.

He pressed his forehead against the bedroom door, eyes still closed, the hard metal cold and unforgiving. “Now I need you to walk up to your door and let me in.”

“Are you crazy?” she shouted so loud that Malcolm had to take his ear away from the receiver. “It’s going to let all the water in!”

“No,” Malcolm said calmly. “Because I will be on the other side.”

“You know that makes no sense.”

“You’re talking to a strange voice in your head, your room is flooded, and from my estimate about the cost of that vanity mirror alone, you live somewhere in Hightown. Does any of this make sense?”

This time she whined, which sounded more cute than annoying. “But I’m going to get wet.”

Malcolm burst out in laughter. He had run into a lot of dreamers, but while most were suggestive, she seemed to easily resist the strings connecting them. He could see deep into the pit of her heart that she was as stubborn as he was, which was saying something. It was intriguing really, but before his curiosity could run away with it, his sensible self reminded him that she was in danger. And with how long it took for him to find the location of her dream, the demon had now sensed him coming.

“Look, the door is locked, and only you can open it.”

“Can’t you just break the lock open?”

“Sure,” Malcolm said, “but that door represents the connection of your body to your slumbering mind. If I break it open, it would hurt…a lot.”

Silence filled the air except for the splash of rising water and the slurping noise of Scholar licking the last remnants of sauce from their bowl.

“You promise you’ll be on the other side?”

“Promise.”

She heaved a huge sigh and after a few moments, he could hear the sloshing of water as she started to wade her way through her bedroom, but Malcolm could not only hear it from the speaker, but the other side of the door as well. Malcolm shoved his phone back into his pocket and placed his hand on the doorknob that would normally be electronically locked, but right now, it was just another illusion of the Fade. As the lock clicked open, Malcolm turned the doorknob, blissfully unaware of how his life would change until he met the girl’s black doe eyes.

Read more on A03

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a little bit of an unusual fic. Not sure how you feel about writing smut, but I would really enjoy reading a Dwayne/ Star one where Dwayne is very dominant and very teasing/taunting with Star. Again I know it’s an unusual pairing but I just think those two are very sexy together 😜 especially the way that he’s so big compared to tiny, petite Star lol. But again, if you’re not comfortable with it it doesn’t even have to be full smut!

So!!! This ask has been living in my head rent free for the past couple of days and I hope you enjoy!!! (Just a ps. I don't necessarily characterize Star as a straight sub so be aware of that before reading)

Just a Crush (Dwayne x Star) fic

Warnings: smut

Word Count: 1704

Star didn't know when it had developed. The boys weren't necessarily mean to her, but ever since she'd rejected vampirism they hadn't been the same. They used to be her friends. Now, she was an unfortunate fifth wheel. Between Marko outright ignoring her, Paul dismissing her, and David constantly acting as if she hadn't made up her mind, Dwayne was her only solace. He talked to her as much and basically the same as he had before, which hadn't been much. Still, he was always kind to her.

Perhaps that's why she'd started to develope a crush on him. It was just something small, and she knew it was only because he was the nicest out of the four. She never even planned on doing anything about it, and she knew it was silly to begin with. He was just nice. It was the only explanation as to why she would sometimes find the brunette running through her mind, or why her gaze would rest on him a little bit longer before she left for the pier. It's just a crush. That's all.

Those were the exact words that left her mouth that night.

The boys had gone out again after their hunt, having cleaned themselves up. They were ready to get back out there and cause chaos. Her mind had drifted to the brunette for only a moment, barely lingering on the details of his face. The quirk of his eyebrows, the curve of his lips. She had to admit, while she mostly liked him because he was the nicest, it helped that he was attractive. She was usually so careful to keep those thoughts to herself, away from prying minds.

Star had planned for a quiet night at the cave, having put Laddie to sleep already, when someone caught her wrist.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, but she calmed when she turned and saw the other brunette. He was smiling at her, though it was small and almost not noticable. The firm grasp on her wrist loosened, and his large hand dropped her wrist. She was quick to replace his hand with her own, holding it to her chest. She could still feel the coldness of his fingertips, even when her hand wrapped around it. She was quick to say,

"Oh, jesus, Dwayne. You scared me. I thought-" But he, surprisingly, interrupted her. His voice was a low rumble, like a roll of thunder, when he said,

"That I left?" He finished. And like that, a sudden realization hit her. She had forgotten that the boys could read minds, and that Dwayne had a habit of communicating mainly through their mind-link. She clammed up, and a larger smile spread across his face. He took a step forward, and Star had to crane her neck to look at his face. She refused to step back and tried to keep her mind blank as she watched him look her over, searching for a flutter of an expression that would betray what she was feeling. She was immensely embarrassed, and her mind would've been a rush of wondering if he had heard her if he hadn't said, "You've been thinking about me a lot lately."

Just like that, she knew. She knew that he had heard her. He tilted his head, a smile still plastered onto his face, and he took another step forward. While he had been close before, now he was unbearably so. Another inch and they'd be pressed chest to chest. She tried to fight the blush that was climbing up her cheeks, and she kept her voice level as she said,

"Why didn't you go out with the others?" She asked, trying to change the subject. Perhaps he had forgotten something. Perhaps he would be leaving in a few minutes and she could be embarrassed in peace.

"Seemed like it'd be more fun to stay home." He said, and part of her resolve broke. He reached for her waist, placing a hand there. But he didn't try to reach or grab. It seemed he had done the action just to make her flustered. While Dwayne was the kindest, that didn't mean he was immune to teasing. It seemed he planned on doing so the entire night. Or at least until she admitted it. She flushed red then, and she balled her hands up in fists. Star was never quite so easily pushed over by the boys, and she tried to defend herself, and cut the teasing short, by saying,

"It's just a crush. That's all." And Dwayne's lips pressed closed. As if he was trying to hide his smile. He ducked down a bit, his dark brown eyes mirroring hers. He was so close it was nearly making her breath hitch.

"A crush, huh?" He whispered, his tone just slightly teasing. The deepness of his voice and the way he stared at her made her feel small. She couldn't help but look over his handsome face. She didn't think he'd ever been this close to her before, and his scent was nearly overwhelming. "That's all?" He echoed, and she stared at his lips. Her voice was just as quiet as she whispered,

"Yeah." And then there was a small pause before Star was reaching out. He was pulling her closer just a moment faster, and the two crashed into eachother. Dwayne was never nearly as rushed as he was at that moment, but Star wasn't letting him take the lead. Her kiss was hungry and her hands had woven their way into his hair, already pulling. He was surprised when she licked into his mouth, but his own tongue was quick to greet hers. Quick to battle her back.

Even when he took her to her bed, the pair careful to be quiet, she was cupping his face and holding him. Almost as if she was trying to guide him. Dwayne grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. Dwayne was almost never quite as dominant as he was now, but it was the simple act of her not letting him have the lead, of her pushing back and trying to lead him, that made him snap. He was able to hold both of her wrists in one hand, and the other was quick to shed the clothing separating them. His kiss was dominating and slow, but her legs had wrapped tight around his waist. Even when he palmed at her chest, tugged and twisted her nipples, or dug his hand in-between them to tease her, she still didn't submit. Even when he whispered,

"Just a crush, huh?" She simply tried to draw him back into a kiss. She silenced all of her moans and noises with his lips, and she rolled her hips down against his hand. She was pulling him closer, testing him, and it wasn't until he slipped inside that her fight for control finally faltered.

She let out a small, breathy gasp, and the way her back arched made all of it worth it. Dwayne smirked, and he set a slow, steady pace. He didn't hold back any strength, knowing that, whether she was willing to accept it or not, she had the same ability to heal as they did. Every sound he managed to pull from her lips was music to his ears, and he couldn't help but tease her relentlessly for it.

"Have you thought about this before?" He asked her once, and he was answered by a flurry of thoughts in her mind. He laughed, the hand holding her wrists tightening as he reached to grab one of her legs. He held under her knee, hiking her leg up so he could drive himself deeper. Make her moan louder. "You gotta keep quiet, Star." He taunted, even though he was the reason she was struggling.

"Shut up." She responded, earning a laugh from the brunette. He mouthed at her jaw, grazing his teeth against her neck as he sucked hickeys into her skin instead. Star let her eyes flutter closed, desperately trying to bite her lip as each thrust sent shockwaves up her spine.

He let her wrists go, but only so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders. He pulled back, lifting her up and sitting back on his knees. He had her in his lap, his member still nestled inside her and driving her crazy. He lifted her hips up and down with easy, spearing himself inside her while she desperately clung to him. She buried her face into his neck, clutching his shoulders and hair as he whispered into her ear,

"You know, the boys will be back soon. I'm sure they'd love this surprise. Especially David." He taunted, his words almost malicious. They made her whimper, but she could barely think to form a response as Dwayne moved her hips faster and faster. Her orgasm was building, and her nails were digging into him painfully as he continued, "Though, I like having you all to myself." He said, and his voice was breathy. It was the only signal that he was close, and he ran his hand down her side. His calloused fingers feeling the softness of her skin. He dug his hand into her wild tresses of brown curls just to pull her back. To connect their eyes before he said, "Come for me, Star. C'mon, I wanna see you come." Just before the waves of her release crashed down onto her. He saw the pleasure fill her features, heard the beginning of her cry. But he was quick to clamp his mouth over hers, to silence her before her sounds could reach their crescendo.

He pushed her past her own release, until he was coming himself and groaning softly into her mouth. Her tongue massaged his as he came down and he lowered her back onto her bed. The two laid down besides eachother, lightly panting and wrapped up in a half-embrace. Both of them had gone back to being quiet, the only sound between them being their labored breathing. It was Star that broke it.

"Yeah," She started, pushing her curls out of her face. Dwayne looked over at her, a little confused as to what she was talking about until she finished, "Just a crush."

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 139

SYNOPSIS: Their days in paradise have been wonderful, blissfully happy and therapeutic for both Jamie and especially Claire who has finally recovered from her nightmares. Today, Jamie has planned a day of special surprises for his Sassenach, although she is very surprised at their mode of transportation as they set off on a day of carefree adventure.  

Chapter 138 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations  

THANK YOU all so much for your continued support of this novel of a story.  I really appreciate everyone who is reading along.   I hope you will enjoy these next four chapters as I take Jamie and Claire to idyllic places in the Whitsunday Islands.

CHAPTER 139

 The lovers had fallen asleep in each other’s arms like they had every night spent here at Jamie’s home since they had arrived in Australia.  Every day had been idyllic, they’d been bushwalking, lazing on their private beach, had watched the sunsets and sunrises and had made love in nearly every room of the house over the course of the past week or so.  Memorable days and nights spent in each other’s company had been like a honeymoon.  Since being here in Queensland, Jamie and Claire had idled away the time spent together and couldn’t have been happier or more in love for it had been blissfully romantic and carefree in this paradise so far away from Section One.  

The two operatives were off the grid and absolutely uncontactable by Madeline and Operations. Their friend Murtagh, was the only one entrusted with where they were going and Jamie had let him know categorically that under no circumstances was he to contact them or let anyone know they had left Hong Kong.  If Murtagh valued his life, and their friendship, then he would leave them in peace to enjoy their much-needed downtime to recover.  

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

James Fraser looked down at his Claire in calm repose. He had lost count of the number of days that he’d awoken with her nestled contentedly in his arms, and he loved that their intimacy made his beloved feel safe and protected. Thankfully her nightmares had dissipated and his Sassenach had slept more soundly and peacefully over the past few nights, free from her past recollections. All the bad memories of the monastery and the demons that had tormented her dreams had gone, and she’d not had any more nightmares take hold of her mind.

Sighing, Jamie ran his hand over Claire’s tousled locks and brushed a curl away from her cheek before kissing the top of her head. Smiling happily, he then kissed the side of her face inhaling the special scent of his love that filled his nostrils when he buried his face into the curve of her neck.  He loved the smooth feel of her skin, but he loved it more when Claire arched her throat up for him to run kisses along the length of her swan like neck which led to the sensual foreplay that ultimately resulted in their lovemaking.

Life here in this paradise had been everything and more than they could have hoped for, but the fact that the days were speeding by, filled him with great sorrow. If only things could be different at Section and they were not under such scrutiny, then they could still perform their duties as operatives but have a life together.  This time here had been a cathartic experience.  He wanted their lives to always be intertwined in the same way their bodies had been for the last few days intimately and in peace.  However, the leadership of Section did not allow fraternization between functioning field operatives and until such time as this changed then they would have to be clandestine in their familiarity and togetherness.

It made him furious that they would once again have to return to the hellhole that was Section One after their two weeks, that they would have to pretend in front of their superiors that there was no romantic relationship between the two of them and that he would have to be careful not to show any emotion around the woman he loved.   However, looking down at the angel of his heart, he had a moment of clarification. He was no longer the same person he had been for several years.  Although he was still a cold, Level 5 field operative, he had changed emotionally.  Claire Beauchamp had changed him for the better.  She had made him more human and made him realise that he was worthy of being loved and giving love in return.

Shaking this malaise from his mind, Jamie looked down at his Sassenach’s peaceful, sleeping form nestled safely against his body. He placed a gentle kiss against her cheek, then pulled Claire in closer by wrapping his arms around her and rested his head against hers.  

He loved this woman with all his heart and he would do everything in his power for them to be together once the Rising Dragons’ mission was over. He had promised her that he would find a way and he was going to keep that promise. This downtime was more than just for them to heal and recuperate.  It was a time of honesty, of no regrets and a time for them to treasure every special moment spent together.

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

As she began to wake, Claire felt the touch of her lover’s kiss as Jamie brushed his lips over her porcelain skin once more.  She stirred against him automatically nuzzling closer against his warm chest.  Although still half asleep, she felt the tickling brush of Jamie’s growing beard against her flesh.  It was so erotic that Claire stirred a little more before wriggling a little closer. She let out a keening whimper as he teased her throat with his tongue before brushing his lips up under her chin.

“Mmmm … That feels so good Fraser,” she moaned as her eyes began to flutter in that moment just before they opened.

Hearing her moan, Jamie stroked Claire’s temple and kissed the top of her head as his fingers lazily stroked her delicate skin up and down.

"Ja-mie," she whispered softly.

The sound of his name on her lips spoken so breathlessly thrilled him. If she continued to say his name like that though, they may never get out of bed and he had special plans for them today that Claire would not think him capable of doing. He kissed her hair once again then trailed kisses along her cheek as his love raised her head to look into his eyes.

Their lips gently connected. "Good morning mo ghràidh," he purred in his sexy Scottish burr and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I could watch you for hours, Sassenach... see how you've changed ... how you're the same. Your hair... Mo nighean donn.” “My brown-haired lass,” Claire uttered softly, the words lingering on her lips like a gentle caress from her man. She smiled at him, then leaning up, placed her lips to his whispering against them, " Good morning lover. So, what are we going to do today?"

Grinning at her with a gleam in his eye, Jamie lightly rubbed her cheek and stroked his fingers under her jaw. "Tis another surprise Sassenach.”

Claire was enthralled looking at him with a penetrating stare as she wondered what this wonderful man had in store for them today.  She smiled back at him. "Hmmm?  I wonder what you have in mind this time James Fraser?”

A smile beamed across his face waiting for her response to what he was going to say. “I was thinking we could go sailing the Whitsundays today.”

She was a little shocked at this announcement given that Jamie and the sea often didn’t see eye to eye and he was prone to getting sea sick. Tilting her head back to see his eyes more clearly, Claire soon realised that he was indeed serious with his suggestion.

A wry smile and a surprised raised eyebrow greeted his announcement. “Sailing?  … But don’t you get seasick Jamie?”

“Don’t worry Sassenach.  Everything will be fine. It will be smooth sailing … I promise.”

Seeing the sheer joy on his face at this suggestion Claire couldn’t help but smile too. “Well then … a day on the ocean sounds wonderful. I would like that very much.”

“Good,” he replied then leaning down Jamie gently kissed her lips while tracing a finger down her neck, but he stopped himself before it went further. “Well then, as much as I hate to say this … but we best get up. Time and tide wait for no man ye ken.”  

"Okay," she nodded in agreeance with his plan although with some skepticism but wonder in her voice.

Giving Claire a cheeky little pat on the backside, Jamie grinned at her and wriggled his eyebrows.  "Come on then Sassenach. Let’s get this day started."

She laughed and squatted his hand away before responding with a kiss of her own. “You’ll keep Fraser,” and rolling away from each other they got out of bed ready for a day of adventure.

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

Holding hands Jamie and Claire walked along the docks of the private marina admiring the rows of sailboats and yachts moored there until they stopped at a sleek, beautiful white yacht with a gold stripe along the side of it.  However, it wasn’t the boat’s stunning design that caught her attention but the cursive writing printed in gold on the rear of the boat, ‘Je Suis Prest.’

Claire approached the yacht admiring the gold lettering on the stern and side of the boat unaware of what significance the name held for James Fraser. Turning around she looked at him inquisitively.

“What a beautiful yacht Jamie. Is this our hire boat for sailing today?  Are you going to sail it or do we need a skipper? The name is intriguing … Je Suis Prest … I wonder what that means?”  

He gave her a tender kiss on the mouth and with a smile on his lips replied, “Ye do ask a lot of questions Sassenach.”

“I’m just a little gobsmacked by this beautiful yacht Jamie.  I can hardly believe this is for us.”

“Well it ‘tis. I believe that the yacht belongs to a Jared Fraser who is in France on business. He rents it out when not in Australia,” Jamie said standing in front of the beautiful, very big, yacht with the Fraser maxim emblazoned on the back.

“What? … No!  It belongs to someone named Fraser?  Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!  What a coincidence he has the same name as you.” Claire replied in astonishment dropping her beach bag on the dock laughing and realising that Jamie had answered one of her questions. She cast another look at the sleek vessel moored at the dock with new eyes. “Je Suis Prest,” she muttered under her breath.

“Do you know what that means Sassenach?” he whispered in her ear as he came and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Do ye know the Fraser motto, lass? My clan's, I mean?

“No. I don't.”

“’Tis my family motto Sassenach from my other life before Section.   Je suis prest … I am ready.”

“Je Suis Prest,” Claire muttered under her breath. Her eyes were sparkling with the thought the Jamie had given her another little piece of himself that he’d hidden all these years in Section. She smiled beguilingly at him.  

James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, Section One’s incomparable Level 5 operative was always ready for anything that may occur at Section.  From dealing with the machinations of their superiors, to what happened on missions, to the life and death decisions he faced on a regular basis, this man was always ready. That is why he stayed alive and his team always returned safely.  Jamie lived this family motto every day.

“I’m ready too Fraser… “she teased, “… ready for our sailing adventure today.”  However, Claire’s face altered when she looked at him with some apprehension knowing that Jamie was not the best sea person. “But, are you really sure you will you be okay?”

Jamie saw the look that came over her face knowing how the sea affected him.  Taking her hand, he smiled at his love reassuring her that he would be okay. “I only get seasick on ocean voyages mo nighean donn. Sailing in the Whitsundays is calm like a millpond and the region is one of the world’s safest boating destinations Claire.”

He raised her hand to his lips and placed a kiss to her knuckles.  “It’s sheltered from ocean swell by the Great Barrier Reef, and the numerous islands provide calm and completely protected natural anchorages. That is the amount of swell I can tolerate.  I’ll be fine Sassenach, but I do have some acupuncture needles just in case,” he teased with a twinkle in his eye.

She smiled relieved that he would be okay. “That’s good to know. So, are you going to tell me what we’re going to do then?”

Jamie just shook his head and grinned. “No. ‘Tis a surprise…,” he responded amused at the irritation furrowing her features. “… and I know just how much ye love surprises Sassenach.”

“But Jamie …”

He looked at her beseeching face and capitulated a little without telling her he had planned to also sail to Whitehaven Beach for a picnic.  “Okay … I thought we might head over to the outer reef for some snorkelling. Would ye like that Claire?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

Her skin itched with excitement at the thought of sailing today with Jamie at the helm of this magnificent yacht.  The thought of the cool sea breezes crashing over her and the stunning sea views, not to mention the virile man she was with, filled her with excitement for what the day may hold. Wherever the wind would take them on today’s adventure she just knew it was going to be memorable. 

“Aye, Aye Captain.”

“Well then, welcome aboard sailor.”

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

Holding Jamie’s outstretched hand, Claire managed to step onto the edge of the yacht and climbed onto the deck. Once onboard, she took a moment to admire the yacht from the lovely teak wooden deck to the cushioned benches curving on both the port and starboard sides of the saloon to the spacious cockpit where a huge steering wheel dominated the space. It was a beautifully maintained yacht and she was so excited to be going on this sailing adventure with Jamie at the wheel.

In next to no time after placing their supplies for the day on board, Jamie hoisted the mainsail that would capture the bulk of the wind power necessary to propel the yacht and if needs be, he could use the motors as a backup should the wind fail. He secured the vertical side of the sail to the mast, and its horizontal side to the boom parallel to the deck. Jamie then made his way to the cockpit to ready them for sailing while Claire walked over to the side of the boat and leaned over the metal railings, staring out into the crystal blue water wondering what adventures awaited them today.  She took in the clear blue skies, the warming sunshine and shimmering ocean waves.  Lost in thought she didn’t hear Jamie come and stand beside her.

He grinned at her and taking her hand led her into the cockpit and started the engine.  “Ready Sassenach?”

“Always,” she replied a wistful smile gracing her lips.

For Claire, watching Jamie concentrate on reversing the yacht safely out of its moored area at the marina as they headed out into the ocean was as mesmerizing as it had been watching him manoeuvre their car on the journey when they had left Med Lab.

James Fraser never ceased to amaze her every single day, and this too was a new piece of information about the man she loved that filled her heart to bursting. He was a consummate, virile specimen of manhood and her eyes glided over his torso from head to toe, before lingering on his arms as she admired his prowess at the yacht’s helm. The fact that just the thought of what his body and arms could do to her, and oh, sweet Jesus … his hands … was enough to make her cheeks blush with wickedly delicious thoughts.

Claire knew that she needed to curtail these wayward feelings or they just might get her into trouble, but that had never bothered her before, and besides she felt a little flirty.  Moving up behind Jamie, she hugged her man pulling him against her. She placed her hands over his as he steered the yacht out into the open seas, then, resting her head on his shoulder, Claire sighed contentedly.

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

They had soon left the yacht marina behind them and it seemed as if they were the only ones in the vast sea. The weather was perfect for sailing with a warm breeze and only a few clouds in the vibrant blue sky. There was something rather magical about going where the wind took you. The cares and stresses of their everyday life as cold-blooded killer operatives had ebbed away since they had been here, and the present became everything for them. Briny air, azure blue swells, and a wind that carried them to whatever destination Jamie was taking them to in this picturesque setting, was all that mattered. It was freeing and liberating for the mind and the fact that Claire had banished all of her nightmares from her consciousness, she had relished being in paradise as much as he had.

The sails now flapped in the wind as the waves gently rocked the boat and the salt and brine smell of the ocean filled their nostrils. What a majestic place this was for them.  They were completely unplugged and disconnected from the rest of the world, but completely connected with each other and their surroundings. Over the past week, the Whitsundays already had won their hearts and the fact that they were navigating new waters ... learning so much, working together as well as re-anchoring together through these wonderful moments, was everything. It was so different from their life in Section. The fact that they were having this incredible adventure, in one of the most beautiful locations in the world, immersed in nature, free and away from everything, with an element of learning and having to work at something as a team was really special.

This day was already turning into something unforgettable as Jamie and Claire talked about nothing and everything as they sailed along. The waters were the most beautiful azure blue she had ever seen while both of them were awestruck by the beauty of the sea. They were in the middle of the ocean, away from civilization, from their life at Section One and more importantly those who scrutinized their every move.  There was just the two of them surrounded by the beauty of this part of the world. This was a place that had always been on Claire’s bucket list prior to her recruitment to Section One, but one she had never had the opportunity to visit. The dichotomy of being here to being in Section was worlds apart.  It was as different as night and day.  Just being with Jamie made her felt free and alive as never before, compared to their hellhole where you never, ever knew if you would live or die on any particular day. This day had already started out magical and Claire knew that whatever the rest of the day would bring, that to share it with the love of her life was all that she could want.

The yacht smoothly cut through the tranquil seas as Jamie skippered the vessel towards their first destination.  He observed how happy and relaxed his Sassenach was and how very much he too was enjoying this sailing trip.  His stomach had managed to behave, and not once had he felt even a tiny tinge of seasickness. He was so looking forward to seeing Claire’s face when they arrived at the outer reef for some snorkelling amongst the coral and underwater sea life. It was then on to Whitehaven Beach to spend the day, swimming or paddle boarding off the yacht and perhaps watching the sun set from the water, drinking plenty of wine and whisky on a beach picnic, before returning home under the shimmering night skies. It would be a day of living life to the full and enjoying each other’s company in the serenity of this beautiful area. Although he’d planned some things they would do, it was the joyful spontaneity of those unexpected moments Jamie knew would happen with his Sassenach, that they would remember and hold dear to their hearts.  

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

Life for Jamie and Claire over this past week and a bit had been magical.  They were somewhere that let them see the stars at night, somewhere away from their previous life where missions, End Games, covert operations, subterfuge and manipulation ruled their lives. They’d had the opportunity to connect with each other in a way that they were rarely able to do and they had relished their connectedness. It had been cathartic and exhilarating for both of them.  Their wounds had healed and they were both in a good place and frame of mind that when they did have to return to Section, they were ready for whatever fate may hold for them.

Claire couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made this place and the Whitsundays so special.

Was it the beautiful blue water, always a pleasant temperature so that they could swim whenever they pleased?  Was it the incredible islands, dotted not far from the shore? Some were home to sophisticated resorts while others, uninhabited, were filled with mystery. Was it the tropical weather or the magnificent Great Barrier Reef and fringing reef, home to an endless range of marine life? Or was it just that they got to appreciate and wonder at this special environment every day they were here?

Perhaps it was a combination of these things that made the Whitsundays a truly special place and one she would always remember. After all it was the place that Jamie had chosen to take her to recuperate and forget all that had happened to the both of them at the monastery and for that she would be forever grateful.

She was so relaxed and comfortable around Jamie here.  She had let her guard down but so too had he. He had a way of making her laugh, and conversation with him was so easy. His all too familiar touch had taken her to places of exhilaration and ecstasy when they had both surrendered to the joys of making love so freely and without inhibition.  Together they could conquer the world, for James Fraser was her rock.  He was her everything and she loved him to distraction.  

A hand suddenly reached for her waist as the man of her thoughts came and stood beside her. Claire leaned in close to Jamie as his arms encircled her waist and brought her to his side. Taking her hand in his, he guided it towards a new spectacular sight.  Claire’s voice was filled with joy and wonder as he pointed out another spectacular sight … an island, a bird and a pod of dolphins surfacing from the ocean.  They both laughed as they watched the friendly and playful sea mammals frolic in the water so close to the yacht.

“Happy Sassenach?”

Her delight was infectious. “Very … Oh Jamie, this is the most wonderful day.”

“’Tis only just beginning mo ghràidh,” he assured her with a mysterious gleam in his eye.

“I didn’t think it could get any better than sailing with you my love.”

“Well it just might ye ken, because we have reached the outer reef and I thought ye might like to go snorkelling and see some of the marine life.”

“Oh …” Claire replied excitedly unable to suppress the smile that crossed her mouth.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~to be continued Tuesday 18th August when we see what wonders are in store beneath the waters of the reef.

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹puppy love➹(peter b. parker x reader)

Requested by @connorshero➝  “Something fluffy and sweet: Peter B surprises Reader (his best friend, who he's in love with) with a puppy after Reader lost their previous puppers.”

Forget listening to sad songs as you eat pizza that burns the roof of your mouth— Peter B. Parker believes a puppy is the medicine for a grieving heart.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: finally, i wrote something short. hello! i’m sorry this took so long, @connorshero , i’m going to be 100% honest and admit that i struggled quite a bit lol— i wrote the entire thing but i decided to delete it and start over bc i wasn’t happy with it. but i finally finished and here it is! requests are open, so feel free to send some if you want (: hope you enjoy!

A desperate thumping on your front door along with the fierce crackle of the storm roused you from the light slumber you didn’t even know you had succumbed to, your body jerking as you choked on the drool that had managed to slip down your chin. You grimaced, wiping the gross saliva off of your face with one hand while the other rubbed your eye. You sat on your floor, your back against your sofa which explained your sore neck and shoulders, staring at the carpet until the knocking returned and brought you fully back to consciousness. You didn’t know what time it was— it felt as if an entire year had gone by whilst you slept, honestly, but you were certain it was too late for it to be your landlord reminding you about your rent payment. You clumsily stood to your feet, the lack of illumination dooming you to knock your shin into the sharp edge of the coffee table. You screamed, but continued limping toward the door anyway, flinging the door open with a scowl as you held onto your throbbing leg. Your expression softened, however, and your brows drew together for in front of you stood a dripping wet Peter B. Parker wearing a large coat that barely covered the red and blue suit underneath it, and… holding a puppy covered in dirt?

“What the fuck?” You muttered, suddenly fully awake. It was an odd and unkind greeting, but Peter really couldn’t blame you for your reaction. He opened his mouth, laughing nervously as his eyes shifted down to the creature in his grasp.

“Hey? Sorry if I woke you up, I just… kinda had an emergency.” He nestled the puppy on his chest and your attention came back to it. The animal shivered wildly, and so did your best friend who smiled at you while his teeth chattered.

You silently moved aside for him to walk in, your brain working hard to figure out what in the world was happening and trying to arrange all the questions speeding by. Peter briefly studied the living room— images of days prior, when he embraced you as you dampened his neck with your tears in that same spot he was in, flashing through his eyes. A twinge of worry invaded him when he took in the abandoned box of pizza on the couch, and the two empty cans of beer littering your red rug. Meanwhile, you might as well have heard the dog talk, because your stunned face— eyes as big as a full moon, your eyebrows almost reaching your hairline— represented just that as you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the stray puppy huddled against the man. “Oh my god,” You finally said, gasping and your hand reaching out to hang above its head. “Why do you have a puppy with you?”

“It was a surprise, to say the least.” He allowed you to take the animal from him, groaning when he saw the grime on his hands and coat. You didn’t mind much about the dirt, though, as it was a dog; laundry day was tomorrow, you told yourself as you hugged the puppy like a young child with their favorite stuffed animal. “I was in an alleyway when I heard something break behind me and so I went to investigate, but instead of a homeless person or something, I found this little girl right here.”

“And you decided to take her with you?”

“Well, yeah, we… had a connection.”

A lovely trail of footprints and droplets of mud now adorned your floor which you had actually swept hours earlier; not the makeover you wanted, exactly, and it would’ve irked you except that you were too exhausted and confused to save a place for an extra emotion. You glanced back at Peter, studying his shivering body, and sighed. The man could be bleeding out to death, yet he wouldn’t complain nor do much about it unless you physically dragged him to a nearby hospital; it wasn’t an exaggeration, rather a characteristic of his you gathered after having a friendship with him since prehistoric times, but also since (to your dismay) the exact same scenario had occurred many times before. “You had a connection, huh? Alright, dork, I bet there’s a forgotten collection of your clothes in my closet— go get changed while I get the bath ready.”

There was a certain weakness that threatened to attack Peter, and the fact that he was freezing after swinging to your apartment in the ruthless downpour easily might have been the culprit of that; but as bad as he wanted it to be that way, it was evident in his heart that you were the true delinquent— you, with your tangled hair perhaps from the slumber he disrupted, with just your presence really, continued to transform him into a teenager who wrote long melodramatic poems about his crush and doodled their initials on his school notes during class. It was absurd, truthfully, how you managed to do such thing to a fully-grown man. But you were his time machine, his youth potion, that remedy that allowed him to see life as colorful as a pure child did, and he’d never complain about it, because that’s just what he needed all the time.

Peter had forgotten about the pile of clothes belonging to him that neatly rested on one shelf of your closet. Ever since you two were in college— when he’d pretty much constantly live in your apartment for an entire week— you’d been assembling the shirts and other articles of clothing the man often left behind as if clothes were as expensive as a carton of milk that’s about to expire. So that’s where that shirt went, he thought as his eyes settled on a green flannel he used to wear religiously back before Christ, partially because you always voiced how much you liked how he looked with it. You’d truly had him wrapped around your finger for the longest time, he realized, and yet he’d never had the guts to make a move. That frustration abandoned him, however, when he put on an old shirt and it smelled like you; there was that youthfulness again as contentment pecked his entire face, coloring his skin a rosy tint. Like a new man, he headed down the hallway to the bathroom where he could hear water running. He peeked his head inside, the corner of his lips tugging upwards when he saw you on the floor caressing the puppy on your lap and talking to it. “I see you two already became friends.”

You looked up at him, directing to him a tired twitch of your mouth. “You better be scared, ‘cause your title of best friend is at risk. Could you close the door?” You gestured your head toward the entrance and your wish was his command as a gentle click left the bathroom’s door when he closed it.

“Again, sorry about bothering you. I just didn’t know where else to go, and you’re the best person I know when it comes to dogs.” He shrugged, descending to sit down in front of you, his knees uncomfortably tucked close to his chest to fit his long legs in the small room. The puppy forgot about you, and was determined to snuggle under Peter’s knees as he jumped off of you. “No! I just changed!” He groaned and wriggled away from the animal into the wall.

You giggled, quickly grabbing the excited creature before it tragically attacked your friend’s immaculate clothes. “I don’t really mind, honestly. I wasn’t exactly having the best night anyway; so thanks, Prince Charming, for coming to rescue me with a stray puppy— hic!” You hiccuped, the alcohol finally getting to you. You stood up, waving your hand which you weren’t cradling the puppy with for him to do so as well.

He hummed, amused, his hand on his hip as you closed the faucet. “I’m excellent when it comes to bathing dogs.” You glanced back at him, quirking a brow and narrowing your eyes.

“You sure? Because every time I asked you to help me give Webster a bath you just watched while I did all the work.” A grin may have remained on your features, but the rain cloud of sorrow that showered over you was evident after you mentioned that one name— the one you used to cheerfully call all the time, but now tried to avoid at every chance you got. Peter noticed, his eyes sad, but he elbowed you playfully hoping that it would help somehow, even if just a little bit.

“Lies, I think I did a pretty good job at holding him still.” It was unavoidable, no matter how hard he could’ve fought, the dreamy smile that etched on his face simply as a consequence of your empyrean laugh; such a minor thing that had a tremendous effect on him, and it embarrassed him, but again, he wouldn’t ever complain. It was baffling how you’d never noticed the stares that lasted too long whilst you just existed, or the utter and raw infatuation his eyes burned with as you smirked up at him.

“Sure, keep lying to yourself. I really need you to help me, though, because this girl is a shit ton more hyper than… uh, you know.” Peter recalled in his head the trip to your place and the humiliating amount of times he yelped while swinging as the dog would continuously squirm out of his grasp and attempt to climb onto his shoulder. He nodded, releasing a big puff of air because you had no idea. You grabbed a red a bucket from the cabinet and handed it to him. “Okay, just use this to pour the water over her.”

“Am I going to get something if I do a great job? You know, like a sticker?”

You shrugged, kneeling down before the bathtub. “I don’t know. A kiss, maybe.” You stared back at him when moments passed and he didn’t say anything, both of your faces as red as the bucket he shakily held. “It was a joke. C’mon, get down.”

He waited for you to take your words back, or maybe add something along the lines of “but if you’re down so am I” if the cosmos decided to bless him for once. You remained quiet, though, and a quiet sigh slipped through his lips as he decided to leave it behind for his own sanity’s sake. “Why did you make me stand up if we were gonna get back on the floor again?” He grumbled, following you suit. He looked at you confused when you began to laugh at him. Was he still blushing? You did always make fun of him when he blushed. “What?”

“Why are you making those dad noises?”

“Me? Dad noises?”

“Yeah, like—” You let out a low grunt, your lips puckered and your eyebrows scrunched together, and then breathed out obnoxiously loud and heavy. “That’s what you sound like— hic!” You hiccuped for a second time, and he threw his head back as he laughed.

“Shut up, you can’t even handle drinking two cans of beer, look at you right now.” He teased, the many times you’ve flirted with him throughout the years after getting hammered with a ridiculous quantity of alcohol in the back of his head.  He stretched out his arms, making grabby hands at the puppy, the bucket abandoned and floating in the water. “Gimme.”

Your mouth curved into a smile at his childlike actions as you carefully placed the creature in his hold. “I can’t believe you’re such a dad, but also a man-child, it’s adorable.”

He chose to say nothing, lest his voice decided to backstab him and crack like a fourteen-year-old boy during an oral presentation. He took a deep breath, instead focusing on the dog who believed it was a menacing beast as it chewed on his finger, and the grey layer of mud covering its short fur. He frowned, thinking of different scenarios of how the poor pup could’ve possibly ended up such way, none happy. He filled the plastic bucket with water before draining it slowly down its back, revealing its true dark brown color. “She’s so cute, I might have to cry.” He mumbled, his expression strangely serious in spite of his words.

“What are you gonna do with her?” There was a glint of what he wished was hope in your tone, anticipation clouding your features as you tried to nonchalantly squirt a generous amount of dog shampoo on the palm of your hand.

The animal tried to escape as he rinsed the grime but he held it in its place while he waited for you to start washing it. He raised his shoulders, glancing sideways at you. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll take her to a shelter or something.” You almost announced your disappointment, but you nodded, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “You look disappointed.”

“Me?”

“Uh, no, the fucking ghost in your bathroom.” He said sarcastically. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, of course I meant you.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you massaged the shampoo into the puppy you cared about too much despite only knowing it for less than thirty minutes, creating enough foam that miniature bubbles drifted in the air. “Did you know that my apartment is haunted?”

Peter snorted at your spontaneity. “Oh, is it?” In a mere second, however, he completely tuned out everything along with your response; all purely because of the accidental caress you gave his hand as you scrubbed the dog’s loin. Was it accidental? Your touch lingered for too long for it to be, no? Or was he just overthinking? Most likely. He desperately needed to put himself together, he groaned internally— and if only he’d done so sooner, then he wouldn’t have been too distraught by a hand touch to notice the rapidly approaching mountain of foam on your hand until it was too late. He felt pressure on the top of his head, and that’s when he recognized your hand sliding down the side of his face, lathering the bubbly liquid on his skin. He jumped, pushing your arm away as his eyes widened. “Why did you do that?!”

Your beam was as contagious as a virus as you giggled, your foamy hands proof of your crime. “I asked you something like twenty times and you didn’t answer!” You defended while he wiped his eyebrow with the back of his hand. “Hey, I saw the opportunity and I took it!” Red alarms went off in your head, and you regretted everything when you saw his sly smirk. You lifted your finger up as a warning when he picked up the bucket and loaded it, innocent eyes staring at you. “Don't you— hic!— fucking dare…”

“Your shirt’s kinda dirty. Here, let me clean it for you—” He spilled all the water over your head and you shrieked, wielding yourself with your arms, which was nothing other than pointless as— regardless of your efforts— you still finished entirely soaked. Peter held his fist up to his mouth, wheezing while you glowered at him with wet hair stuck to your forehead.

“You dick…” You chuckled incredulously, giving him no time to feel satisfied before scooping more foam and launching yourself at him, slamming your hand into his mouth.

It was the cafeteria food fight you’d always dreamed of having; except that it was just two people (and a puppy playing in the bathtub) in your bathroom instead of a big cafeteria, and food was exchanged for water in an old bucket close to breaking and wasted dog shampoo with enough bubbles for a little kid to have a stroke from the excitement. Not a degrade, but an upgrade, indeed— one you’d accept without a doubt; even if you could already imagine how much your back would hurt after you mopped up the mess you two made, for it was impossible not to as Peter grinned widely at you with his fake bubbly Santa Claus beard, and you held your soaked stomach as you hysterically laughed. Peter’s body tingled when he thought about dropping all his fears and doubts to crash his yearning lips against yours; to hold your chin with the delicacy you deserved, inundate the room with all his repressed lust and emotion, like a volcano that’s been asleep for eons gushing everything out for the first time in forever. He held himself back, though, like he always did, and just admired your sunshine from afar.

You lounged on your couch, your arm hanging off the side while Peter rested on the floor with his head against your knee, ignoring the discomfort just to be as close to you as possible. It was a well-deserved break after your puppy bath-time-turned-into-a-water-fight as you two watched the clean animal almost do a handstand while trying to eat from the larger bowl. You chuckled, your cheek squished against the cushion. “Did you know I named him Webster because of you?” You mumbled, and you felt Peter’s head graze your knee as he glanced at you, humming questioningly. “Webster. Web.”

“And you waited seventeen years to tell me that?”

“Thought it was sort of obvious.”

“I kinda just thought you were really passionate about the dictionary.” He said and you let out air through your nose, gripping the worn Mickey Mouse blanket wrapped around you. You clutched the memory of Peter gifting you the cloth for your dog’s first birthday close to your heart— the cloth which would become the Australian Shepherd’s most beloved possession, even up till to his last moments and as you said goodbye to him. You sniffed, closing your eyes when your vision began to blur.

“Spidey was an option at first, but I felt really lame calling my dog ‘Spidey’. Plus… he also really reminded me of you.”

His eyes softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, y’know: brown hair, brown eyes, adorable…” He almost had a heart attack. “He was always there for me and I… I really loved him.” You whispered.

Peter’s stare moved down to your hand, and soon you felt his fingers curl around yours. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I have a confession to make.” You peeked an eye open. “I didn’t just bring the puppy here so you could help me clean her up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, uh,” He scratched his stubble, trying to find his words. “Webster took care of you when I couldn’t, y’know? Not just that, but I hate seeing how much it hurt you to lose him. It hurt me as well— you saw me bawling my eyes out like a baby when they put him to sleep.” He laughed.

You frowned, giving his hand a squeeze. “Thank you for being there with me. I probably would’ve broken down if it weren’t for you. But why’d you bring the stray puppy here?”

“I know I said I was going to take her to a shelter, but I really just wanted to see your reaction. I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to replace Webster, though, because nothing ever could, and he deserves better than that.”

You then sat up, holding his hand on your lap as you began to understand what he was trying to say. “Peter…” You warned him— you truly weren’t in the mood for a prank, but his voice and features expressed nothing more than honesty. Peter rose from the ground and you immediately followed him, your hands linked as he walked up to the puppy.

“Sorry, bud, but I’m gonna take you for a sec,” He muttered as he bent down and scooped the dog. He faced you, your heart glowing at the sight of his sheepish smile and his giggles whilst the dog began to lick his neck. “I need someone to watch after you now that Webster can’t, and this girl right here is perfectly fit for the job.”

You were aware of how ridiculous you were for tearing up, but it was bound to happen when Peter handed out the puppy— your puppy to you. You gawked at him, taking her gently into your arms, blinking furiously when she washed your knuckles with her tongue. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He scoffed, although showed you a crooked grin. You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, and took a step closer to him before landing a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth, lightly brushing his lips. He gulped when you pulled away, his eyes going round. “O-oh.”

“It’s not a kiss like I said back in the bathroom, but it’s what you’ll get for now.” You murmured shyly, suddenly your feet much more interesting to look at than the flustered man in front of you or the sweet creature you held. However, once again, you missed that stare of his and his growing smile as his whole face lit up.

“I really can’t complain.”