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laylacooke · 4 years ago

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Sex Toys Don’t Make Good Cat Toys || Rio, Cordy, & Layla

timing: Late August. parties: @3starsquinn, Cordy [ @kadavernagh], & @laylacooke summary: Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion of...A Little Catty.

Layla wasn’t entirely sure how she had managed to pull off communicating with Leah, but she had. It was a miracle, and now she was trotting down the sidewalk headed towards Pandora’s Boxxx, where this had all started. It hadn’t taken her long to process that the witch from the shop had done it. It had been the last place she had gone, before waking up with orange fur covering her miniature body. However, her only regret, now, was putting poor Orion through yet another one of her mishaps; this seemingly the worse, since there wasn’t really much context behind her wanting to meet him there. Not only that, would he know it was her when she looked up and greeted him with a meow. She would soon find out.

Coming to a stop, just outside the entrance, she found a spot near the outside wall of the building waiting for him to show. And if all went well, she would walk in a cat and out a human (well almost human) again.

Orion was uncomfortable. Of course, he’d do anything for Layla. Even if that involved a sex shop, which Rio was definitely not confident enough to force himself inside of. Rio and Winston didn’t even sleep in the same bed, how was Rio supposed to casually stroll into a sex shop? But Layla had needed him, and he supposed he could brave the embarrassment if it meant doing her a favor. On his way towards the doors of the shop, a cat popped onto a bench and cutting his path off from the store. “Hey there buddy!” Rio swooped down, running a palm against the cat and scratching behind its ears, “I can’t hang out too long. I gotta go embarrass myself inside of this shop for a friend of mine.” He continued petting the cut for another few seconds before standing back up and side stepping the cat to walk into the store.

Layla sat patiently waiting for Rio, when she finally spotted him. Leaping onto a nearby bench, she meowed as she felt his hand come down on her ears. Ear scratches are the best! Agh. Focus, Layla. Rio’s words had made an odd noise come out of her small cat body that resembled a laugh, before she hopped down and slipped inside the door once it was open. I promise I’ll make this up to you, Orion. I don’t know how, but I will. She wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to work, but as she entered the store, she set her eyes upward, looking around for Cordy. At least with Rio there, she felt safe. Otherwise, a cat facing a witch alone was going to be a major task.

Welp, there was the bell. Customers. Eugh. Cordy uncrossed her legs and gave her hat a tilt up to properly see who came in. Why was there a kid in here? “We should really just hang up a sign that says Mime E. Stripes is next door. Wrong building, kid.” She went to tilt her hat back down, but she saw a cat tail waltzing across the store. Presumably attached to a cat. Cordy sighed and peeked over the display, looking down at the orange tabby that’d slipped inside. “Look what the you dragged in. That you, Cherry? Think you could use a shave before you try and get back into your jorts.” Cordy snickered and turned her attention back over to the kid. “Lemme guess, belly button stickers? Or are you here for a nice banshee ball gag? There’s been a lotta screaming around town lately.”

There was a lot that Orion was not comfortable with as soon as he stepped inside the store. His best bet at finding Layla was probably just to ask someone. She was memorable, right? He was vaguely aware that the cat had followed him inside and hoped that the cat was some sort of store cat or… y’know he got the joke about a cat being in a sex shop. Clever. He used the palms of his hands to block either side of his vision and made a beeline for the counter. On his way, he bumped against a display of phallic objects and the entire thing shook, Rio reaching out to try to stabilize it before realizing what he had been reaching out for and jerking his hand back. “This is torture.” Rio mumbled to himself, realizing that the woman had already started talking to him and… the cat(?) before he even made it to the counter. “Uh- no. Neither of those things please. I don’t scream.” Rio paused for a minute as he reflected on his choice of words before deciding to pretend that he never said them and continuing on, “I’m looking for a friend of mine. Short. Red hair. A quirky sassiness that makes her lovable? Please tell me that rings some bells.”

Cherry. Cordy knew exactly who Layla was, and as soon as she heard the woman’s voice, she trotted over to the counter and leaped up onto it. Pacing back and forth, she hissed at the witch who had done this to her. Scratching her eyes out wasn’t exactly an option, but making her displeasure known was well within the cat’s rights. You did this, and you’re gonna fix it, Witch! However, Rio’s words caught her attention. Turning to face him, she watched as he nearly knocked over an entire display of penis shaped objects, and the embarrassment present in his voice and actions made Layla realize just how much she was going to owe him, but first she had to somehow let him know it was her. It’s me, Rio! I’m right here! Meowing and pawing at him, she had hoped he would figure it out.

Oh, this was gonna be fun. Cordy’s mouth stretched into a wide smile as she watched the teenager tumble around the store like a child lost in a shopping mall. “Torture? Nah. Those are dildos. If you want torture, it’s in the last aisle to the left,” Cordy said, pointing with her thumb. He didn’t strike her as the type, but maybe Annabel would’ve seen something in him that she was missing. “Wasn’t saying you were the screamer, but I think anyone could scream with the right persuasion.” She winked at him, just to watch him squirm. His description rang some bells alright, and Cordy had to wonder if the kid had any idea that the cat that’d hopped up on the counter was probably the friend he was looking for. “No redheads in here,” Cordy said, straightening up the display case of penis candy that the cat swatted at. She shot Layla a glare and turned her attention back to the blue-haired teenager. She needed to get him outta here before he caught on. “Anyways, haven’t seen your friend. And don’t mind the store cat. She acts out whenever a virgin walks in.”

This was Orion’s nightmare. Worse than his nightmares actually. At least in those he was just being chased by monsters and killed or something. This was way worse than that. “Oh. Ha ha. Yes. Right.” He didn’t even know which part of the worker’s sentence he was replying to. The cat was meowing and pawing at him again, and Rio scratched at the cat again absentmindedly. “Hey kitty,” he spoke aloud but was more focused on the worker and hopefully on finding Layla. Unfortunately, there was no such luck. Either she was running late, or Rio had gotten the wrong address. He was pretty sure he preferred the latter, actually. Maybe he should try calling her again and- Did that employee just call him a virgin?? Rio immediately broke into a stream of nervous giggling at the accusation. It was true, but was it really that obvious? “Your cat can’t actually do that can she?” Rio looked down at the cat again. That had to have been a joke, right? Unless it was some sort of magic not cat. No, it was a joke. “That was a joke. I realize that now. Um.. okay. Well I guess I will just sorta… wait for her to get here then.” The cat wouldn’t seem to leave him alone, “Your cat seems to really like me.”

Are you shitting me? Rio! It’s me!!! It’s Layla!!! She meowed louder as she listened to the two humans in the room talk. How was she going to make him know it was her? Looking back at Cordy, she knew she would have to somehow get the woman to show her cards. She could easily convince Rio that Layla was just the store cat, and in knowing that (and seeing it working), she opted to do something really stupid. Well, hopefully this will make some kind of difference. Otherwise, dying as a cat might actually happen...Giving a nudge into Rio’s hand one last time, Layla turned around, and without any warning, she took off running towards Cordy. With her claws out, she launched herself off the counter and onto the woman’s face and shoulders. Hissing and yowling, she sank her teeth down into Cordy’s head. Would a store cat do this you evil witch!?

“She can, actually!” Cordy chirped, the lie coming easy and guilt-free, “No joke, don’t know how she does it. Maybe it’s like those cats who predict when people are gonna die, except so much better.” All the blood had drained from the kid’s face, and Cordy chuckled. It didn’t matter that Layla was capturing his attention; the cat had no way to communicate. So why not have some more fun? Cordy tilted her head and crossed her arms. “You know, if you don’t believe me, you could always test it out. Go find yourself a pitcher and come back later. Besides, not like your friend is here right n--” The sharp ball of furry fury pounced on her head before she could stop it. Cordy shrieked as she felt sharp claws digging and teeth digging into her scalp. Magic, dumbass, use magic. But that was the drawback of tapping into concentration and meditation for her abilities -- there was no concentration to be found right now. Gaia, her ma would’ve just blasted the damn feline off her skull. “Get off! Get off right now! Don’t make me turn you into a toad next!”

Orion remained suspicious, but this was White Crest. For all Rio knew this could be some weird sort of fae or like a magical, cursed cat. It didn’t seem entirely outside the realm of impossibility. Rio was so perplexed by the cat that he didn’t even have time to be offended by this worker clearly making fun of his virginity. He knew it was obvious that he was but still. Rude. “Intriguing.” Rio murmured; eyes trained on the cat still. It was better than looking at anything else in the store right now. “I uh- a what?” Rio questioned, thinking through the limited knowledge he had of sports, “Uhh… I don’t play baseball.” He never got any clarification however, since the cat leapt at the woman’s face and attacked her. “Oh my god!” Rio yelled, immediately going into panicking mode. He started to move towards the woman but stopped when he heard her. Turn you into a toad next? Rio froze, staring at the scene unfolding between him as the puzzle pieces slowly fit into place in his brain, “Holy- Layla??” Rio called out to the cat. What the heck was going on? Why was Layla a cat? “Did you turn my friend into a cat?”

The small, orange cat continued her plot of revenge hoping it would pay off, and when she was able to train her eyes on Rio and see the gears turning, she knew it was working. It had also felt good to sink her teeth into the head of someone so spiteful and without letting go, she began gnawing on the tight skin and hair, releasing a low growl in the process. But when Rio spoke her name, she released Cordy’s noggin and looked up. Yes!!! It’s me! It’s me, Rio!!! She did turn me into a cat! Help me!!! All she had wanted to be was a human again. Though seeing the world through cat eyes made her look at life differently, it was becoming way too easy to forget details about her human and werewolf life, and that could only mean one thing. That if Layla wasn’t freed from the curse soon, she would be a cat forever.

“The cat’s name is Fleabag!” Cordy yelled, as Layla teeth sank into her skin again. Ow, maybe she really should’ve turned this girl into a toad instead. Both virgin and feline were persistent though, and she knew it was too late to truly convince him the cat wasn’t Layla. One of the cat’s claws pierced her cheek, and she’d had enough. She pushed through the pain and closed her eyes, picturing a barrier surrounding herself, it didn’t have to be strong. Maybe Annabel had been right about that sanctorum spell being a good idea. She clapped her hands, a weak, invisible barrier wrapping around her, and Layla the cat went flying onto the counter, repelled by it. “Try that again, Layla, and I’ll have animal control come and euthanize you,” Cordy said through gritted teeth. Okay, so maybe that’d be harsh even for her, but-- she pushed her hat back onto her bleeding scalp and head of messy hair. “Not like I pulled your fur.” She crossed her arms and glared at the cat and the boy. “It’s permanent, anyways, so guess you’re outta luck. Find something else to do today.” It was a lie, and Cordy couldn’t help but look past the leprechaun-print thongs, over to the double-headed dildo imbued with magic.

Apparently, this woman was a liar. Which was rude given how awkward she was making things for Orion, but downright cruel when considering that she knew that Layla was a cat and deliberately hadn’t told him about it. Had she been the one to turn her into the cat? How was turning a human, er- werewolf into a cat even possible? It only made magic even more terrifying. But the woman’s magical abilities became apparent when something sent Layla flying off her and back onto the counter. Rio jerked backwards at first, afraid from the sudden change but then took a step forward, “Hey!” Rio called out in an attempt to sound more threatening than they all knew he was, “Be careful. Don’t hurt her!” The woman claimed it was permanent, but Rio knew better than to trust the woman now. She glanced away from Rio and Rio followed her gaze towards to try to get an idea where she had been looking. Rio began walking over towards it, trying to ignore the fact that he was staring at an alarmingly large display of dildos. But he had no idea what he was looking for. “How do I fix this?” Rio spun back around to look at her, a scowl deepening on his face. He didn’t like the idea of trying to threaten her. He knew he wouldn’t be any good at it. The only idea he had in his mind was appealing to her less than motivated side. His only chance of getting any information from her was to try to appeal to something she may not want to deal with. Rio picked the spot closest to where he thought she had been looking and picked up one of the packages. He didn’t even want to look at the thing that he was holding, but in one move he ripped the packaging in half and tore the dildo into two. Nothing happened, so he figured he hadn’t gotten lucky on the first try. “Just tell me please. I don’t want to do this anymore than you want to clean up the mess.” Rio discarded the trash he had been holding and grabbed onto the display carrying an assortment of… he had no idea what those ball shaped things were. But he twisted his wrist, snapping the wood frame of the shelving and sending the objects down and scattering the floor. “I just want my friend back.”

Getting flung back onto the counter had knocked the wind out of Layla, but before long, she was back up on her feet. Shaking off the trip through the air, she snarled at Cordy, until she noticed what the woman’s eyes were staring at. Turning her head, she spotted it. The huge double headed cockasaurces that had smacked her in the face and started all this mess. And she also watched as Rio made his way over to the display and shelving and began breaking dildos. Awwww, Rio. You’re breaking dildos for me. That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done. Realizing they would be there all night, considering Pandora’s Boxxx had an alarmingly large number of dildos available, Layla hopped off the counter and trotted over to the products. Looking up at Rio, she meowed, before standing up on her hind legs and swatting at the dreaded cursed item. This one! This is the one that made me like...this!

The employee was not being helpful in the slightest. Orion crossed his arms in a pout and considered his next options. He had reached the max capacity of being threatening to no avail, she still refused to give him any hints as to where to find whatever he was looking for. Until Layla jumped down from the counter and found Rio, swerving between the pile collecting on the floor and climbing up until she was swatting at an uncomfortably large phallic symbol that Rio had not yet gotten to. After all this, and Layla knew which one it had been the entire time? “Uh, oh? You knew? Yikes. Sorry abou-” Rio scratched at his neck nervously and began apologizing towards the woman behind the counter before stopping himself, “Wait! Never mind. You’re mean. So I’m not sorry.” As far as Rio was concerned, that was a win in his book. “So, I just break it?” Rio questioned, grabbing at it nervously and feeling strange holding it in his hands. He waited for confirmation before he squeezed his eyes shut and ripped the thing in half.

Layla watched Rio. Why are you still apologizing to the witch!? She was relieved when he had come to his senses though. But what brought her more relief, and in the most awkward of ways? Orion holding the huge hulking dildo that had gotten her in this situation in the first place. Break it! Break the dick!!! Layla watched longingly as Rio snapped the double headed cockasaurces in half. The pop had been one of the best sounds she had heard in a long time. However, once it was separated, nothing seemed to be happening; at least not quickly. And then it hit. A sharp pain had caused a shrill, loud yowl to escape her small snout. Panting fiercely, Layla stumbled forward. Everything hurt. Her small body was burning up, and she felt much like how she did after changing on a full moon. With little legs carrying her away from Rio and towards the back of the store, the teenager lost her balance before everything seemed to go black. And when her eyes opened again everything felt...different.

Her eyes betrayed her. She knew the kid saw exactly what she was looking at. Too much movement would break her barrier spell, and Cordy didn’t want to risk getting mauled by a pissed off cat again. Although... even that was probably better than getting mauled by a werewolf. Would that make her one, too? Shit, that werewolf-cat bit her scalp. Did that mean she was about to become a werewolf? Or a cat? Or-- the thought of losing her magic made her freeze, and she stood there in terror as the boy followed the cat over to the dildo. What if it wasn’t too late? She’d taken too long to make up her mind -- the dildo was in his hands and-- “Stop!” Cordy shouted, leaping over the counter. She could feel the barrier shattering around her skin, but that didn’t matter right now. She was not about to let them break her merchandise and, in the event, that she wasn’t already fucked over and going to grow fur on the next full moon, she needed Layla to stay a cat. “That’s a custom item! You can’t break it! The nymphs will--” The popping noise filled the store, and Cordy could feel the magic spilling out of the dildo in a stream, and as the cat screeched and scampered away, she knew the spell was breaking. “I’m boned, aren’t I?” If these children weren’t about to murder her, then Annabel certainly would.

As soon as the dildo was broken, Orion dropped the pieces on the floor and hopped away from it. He had touched more phallic objects in the last twenty minutes than he had in his entire life. More than he ever imagined that he would touch in his whole lifetime. Layla ran off to the back of the store, and Rio thought about following her but eventually decided against it. He had no idea how she would return to human form. The whole thing seemed too intimate for Rio to be a part of. As if this entire situation weren’t far more intimate than Rio had ever wanted. “Is that a sex thing too?” Rio questioned before sighing. It was totally a sex thing. “I don’t understand what you could possibly get from turning my friend into a cat. Was it just some sick joke to you?” Rio scoffed, the mere thought of someone finding something like that funny made Rio nauseous. “You’re messed up.” He crossed his arms, unsure where they went from here. He couldn’t exactly call the cops on her. What would he even tell them? “Layla?” Rio yelled back, sure that if she was a werewolf again that she could hear him. If she could talk, he’d hear her too. If his hearing wanted to cooperate. “You okay back there?” He didn’t want to take his eyes off of the salesperson. He didn’t trust her.

Layla sat up rubbing her head...with her hand? Looking down she noticed she had two hands. Two legs! Two feet and no orange fur!!! Climbing to her feet in excitement, she began to move forward, but stumbled slightly, “Whoa! Wait...I said whoa! I spoke! I can speak!!!” Hearing Rio call for her, the teenager ran back out into the store frantically, “Rio! Rio, I’m me again! I’m not a cat!!!!” Running towards him with tears of joy, she wrapped her arms around him jumping up and down, until she realized one thing, she was stark naked, “Oh God. I don’t...I’m…” Pulling away from him, Layla’s cheeks revealed to be as red as her hair. Scanning the area, she grabbed the closest thing she could to cover herself up, which happened to be a pair of assless jorts while her arms lay across her chest, “Oh c’mon!”

#para: sex toys don't make good cat toys #3starsquinn #para: cordy #saga: a little catty

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a19yearoldtryinherbest · 5 years ago

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A Few Drinks. [Officer Slater]

Masterlist

Prompt: There's a neighbor who would love to have a few drinks

Warning: Swearing, NSFW.

A/N: It's NSFW but like fluffy and with feels. Or at least I tried to be that, a bit.

@starlordxthor

Anyway I'm sorry I tried really hard to do a self insert but it just doesn't work for me. It gets me off my game, make me constantly think "Oh, someone might not do that". It just doesn't work for me. So... I did the story but with a character.

If any of you want I can do a sort of self insert if you give me a (your) name and some characteristics and/or personally traits I can try to make it justice. Also if any of you want a male or nonbinary love interest, a just friends story, a two dumbasses in lover who don't realize they are in love so there's a lot of pining, or whatever I'm down with that. I just can't really write self insert.

Also the name I gave him is just a headcanon I read somewhere and it stuck with me. Also, it's technically Wednesday and I said I would upload on Monday... sorry about that. I just have a lot of shit currently hitting the fan right now.

Word count: 2560

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Almost every morning, by the time Emily had to leave for work, she bumped her neighbor, Officer Slater, who was just coming back from patrol; supposedly that was all she knew about him but she had picked up upon a few things after living across the hall from him for over three months; he lived alone, usually came back from his late Friday shifts drunk, tended to have his redheaded friend on the afternoons to watch some game and ended up listening to music a bit too loud even for the afternoon. She also knew he was a bit shy, since she had smiled at him on the elevator, thanking him for keeping the door open and he just blushed and mumbled a small "it's nothing" while looking at the floor, that was the second week she was leaving there and the first time she saw him and thought he was incredibly cute.

However, that Saturday, he wasn't drunk. She tried not to look to puzzled about it and, as always, she said — Good morning.

He turned around with a soft smile — Uh, Hi. G-good morning. — he stumbled on his words, being slightly caught off guard even if she greeted him every morning.

She smiled back — No drinking tonight? — she flinched as she said it — Sorry! — she backtracked, feeling awkward and idiotic for saying it — I didn't mean anything by it. — She pressed her eyelids hard and scrambled her thoughts before shaking her head and deciding to leave the conversation — Sorry, I- I better leave. I-

— It's ok. — he said just as she was preparing to practically run towards the elevator — Yeah, there was no drinking, my- — he hesitated — my partner got relocated yesterday and the new one was extremely opposed to the idea of a few drinks. — he gave her a half smile with a soft shrug shoulders — Some people... I don't know. — he said, she wasn't sure if he was joking but she found it funny and she laughed, which made him smile.

There was a beat where she just continued to smile at him and he smiled back. And it was probably the way he was looking at her that made her say — Well, I'm the kind of person who enjoys a few drinks. Just so you know. — he laughed shortly at the floor, completely caught off guard by her not so subtle comment.

He nodded and shifted his weight before looking at her gathering all of his confidence to say — Well, if you really enjoy a few drinks I can invite you for some day.

She smiled, trying to hide her excitement — Sure. — she nodded and took a step forward — Do you have a cellphone?

He opened his eye a bit more as he thought about what she had said and quickly understood what she meant. He went for his phone, almost desperately, looking for in the pockets his trousers until he found his flip phone in the back pocket and held it in between them, offering her to grab it. She smiled and took it, getting the lid off the keyboard and typing in a few things. She closed it and gave him a sweet smile as she gave it back, the tip of her fingers softly caressing his palm, leaving him in a short dreamlike haze full of soft, pink clouds and golden strikes of the sunlight.

— I have to go to work now, so... — he snapped out of his trance and nodded, embarrassed by the idea that he was staring at her way too long.

— Oh, Right. — he said, softly lowering his gaze to the floor but looking back up a second later when she spoke.

— Right. — she smiled — I'll see you around, then. — he watched her go and looked down to see his phone, seeing her name and her phone number on his contacts. Michaels wasn't going to believe it. And he didn't.

However McLovin did believe him and told him, just as Seth told him when he first got a girl's number, to wait four days before calling or, as he put it, the bitch is gonna know you're desperate. This was not true. What was true, however, was that he was going to make her wait and, according to Forgell and Seth, that was going to make her want him more. The second part wasn't necessarily true.

However, by the time Tuesday came he called her.

— Hey — he perked as he heard her pick up.

She smiled — Hey — there was a short silence where she took a few directionless steps, waiting for him to say something. But it wasn't uncomfortable, it was like a soft breath, quiet and easy.

— It's Slater — he said panicking for a second.

She laughed — Yeah I know. — and crossed her arms in front of her chest, sitting on the armchair of her couch — I never got your name. — she said in a way for him to say it.

— It's Slater. — he answered naturally, completely unbothered and oblivious.

— That's your last name.

He hesitated a little and, without realizing it, he pulled a full Forgell — Some people don't have first name.

She laughed at his idiotic response — Yes they do. Everyone does.

— Some of them don't. — he poorly defended, almost pacing between having his weight on his right leg or his left leg. The line stayed silent for a few moments except for a few steps from Emily's side. He felt more nervous — It's just ridiculous. Y'know?

— Is that why do use your last name? — she asked, closing her apartment door.

— Yeah. Basically. — he said and heard a knock on the door — Would you give me a second. Someone's at the door.

— You better not be saying that as an excuse not to tell me your name. —she teased. He went closer to the door and stopped to smile for a second.

— It's not. But I won't tell you anyway. — he said and opened the door only to find her on the other side, standing in the hallway with a sweet, teasing smile.

— So, who is it? — she joked, still talking at the phone. He let out a soft chuckle and hung up and invited her in — So can you tell me your name? — she leaned in the couch — Please?

—Ok. Just- don't make fun, alright?

— I promise

It's Sidney — he almost hid his face behind his hands but stopped when he saw her smile, almost laughing — You said you wouldn't make fun.

— I'm not! It's just- peculiar. — he looked down like if he was ashamed and she regretted her choice of words and tried to mend it with — But I love it. — he looked up at her, a bit confused — Sid. It fits you.

— Still, I don't really like it. — he muttered, and she understood what he was trying to say.

— Alright then, Satler. — he smiled a bit and she smiled back — Do you wanna drink something, then?

— Don't you have work tomorrow?

— No, unless someone dares to miss their shift, and they know better than to get me pissed off. — she smiled and he smiled back, understanding it was a joke but with truth in it — So, drinks?

— I have a few beers and a few movies from Blockbuster if you want.

She let herself fall on the couch — Yes to both.

They put the movie on the DVD player but they never pressed play, instead they started talking first about simple stuff. Likes, dislikes and general history from themselves and, as the drinks moved along, a heavier conversation of fears and dreams to, when the drinks came on a slower pace, their line of work. Emily told him all the wonders about being a nurse, from the disrespectful patients and the disgusting infections, to the angry family members and the endless hours.

— What about you? — she asked before taking a swing of her beer — I mean, you're a cop, you must have some interesting stories.

He laughed shortly and nodded — Yeah. — he thought of a funny story for a second and smiled when he remembered one, he shifted slightly to look at her — Alright, so this one night Michaels and I were patrolling and got called in for a fight outside a bar. We went there, arrested one if the guys but the other ran away and while we were taking him to the percent we got a call for- I think it was a DUI who wouldn't stop, or something. — he settled into his seat again and took a small sip of his beer — So, we get there and pull over the DUI and, while we were talking to the other officers, the guy we had arrested managed to open the door and ran away, handcuffs and everything. — Emily started laughing a bit and he smiled at her — We spent the whole night looking for him. We couldn't find him. Then we got called for another fight but in a parking lot. — he looked at her, almost doing a dramatic pause and she leaned in without realizing it, still amused but no longer laughing, trying to hear the big reveal — I shit you not, it was the same two guys from the first fight. — they both bursted into laughter.

— No way! — she laughed out.

He continued — These motherfuckers got away from being arrested and then got arrested for starting another fight in another place.

— I would say it was karma or destiny but I honestly think it was just stupidity. — he nodded with a bright smile on his face.

She looked at the screen and laughed softly, making him look — We forgot about the movie. — he smiled and looked at her.

— Wouldn't have been as interesting. — he shrugged.

Emily looked at him, almost double checking if he meant it, and he did. She could see that he did. She felt herself freeze.

A unexpected but welcomed touch on her hand that froze her and melted her at the same time.

He looked at her through his glasses and saw her blush slightly, making his ego go through the roof. This beautiful woman, this amazing person, she was blushing because of him. It was beyond his comprehension but he tried to not let it show, smiling softly in an attempt to hide his nervousness.

She looked at his lips, and then saw him looking at her own, but she knew he wouldn't do the first move so she came close to him. Their lips almost brushing before he closed the very short distance between them, feeling his heart beat faster than ever before.

He put his hand on her waist and felt her slightly shiver under his touch so he let the hand he had free start tracing upwards in her leg, almost getting under her dress. Without realizing she opened her legs to him, inviting him to touch, and he did, he stared on the outline of her underwear and her breath fell into a slow and heavy rithm.

— Fuck. — she breathed into his ear and he had to stop For a second, he felt his cock getting hard and the over-stimulation he felt was getting a bit over the edge. But his actions where met with a whine from deep within her throat — Why did you stop? — she asked, half protesting half concerned, looking into his eyes with lust and hunger.

— I think we should go to my bedroom. — she smiled at his words

— Yes. Absolutely. — she stood up and then let him guide her. He lead her to his bedroom and stood awkward for a few seconds, not sure how to continue.

She decided to take the lead again and kissed him, feeling him getting slightly weak on his knees as she took off her dress and made him take off his. She smiled as he kissed her while making her sit on the bed, making her open up her legs for him again. She felt his long finger teasing her and she started kissing his neck as a way to encourage him. He felt her getting wet so he started kissing her cleavage and sliding her panties down her legs before dropping on his knees. He licked the top of her womanhood and she moaned, quite loudly.

He smiled before leaning into her core and starting to suck on her a bit before letting his tongue do the work. She muffled a moan when he caressed her leg, the innocent touch he could give while making her reach the sky felt like the perfect combination of intensity and levity, just like her burning core and the soft wind on her back were the perfect duality of hot and cold. Which was the only way to describe Slater; dichotomy, duality, never better represented than with the way the hungry look on his eyes took it's place on his angelical face.

He kept stimulating her, watching the response to every move. If he went up she would squeal and her legs would tremble, if he went slightly to the right and introduced his fingers she would lean into the mirror and grab his hair. He played with all of her reactions making a knot in her insides which only got more tense until he helped her release herself from it, and he heard her scream his name like a prayer.

He leaned back and watched her gather herself, hearing her breathing slow down and seeing her sit straight back up. Before she could say a word he was on top of her, kissing her softly but with hunger, making her moan as he tried to take off his gears. She chuckled softly when she saw him struggle with his belt and he laughed too, stopping for a second the sexy, hot moment they were having a bit of laughs that slowly died out, making her smile — Do you need help?

— Yes. — he chuckled. She just smiled and helped him, getting rid of the belt, his pants and then his underwear. He started pressing his rock hard erection against her all ready swollen clit, teasing her, making her whine and squeal.

— Do you have a-?

— Yeah. — he stopped his sweet rhythm and looked for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. He found it and she helped him put it on, making him let out a shaky breath out.

Emily felt him stare down her lips but this time let him take his time to kiss her, no rushing in, no taking the lead. And it was sweeter than anything she had ever felt before. And, as he kissed her, he accommodated his place, seeing her twitch a little when he leaned against her entrance. They stopped the kissed only for Emily to plead for him inside her, and he did as she pleaded. Having her moan and become and absolute mess under him. He went faster as she asked and heard her scream his name over and over. He watched her come undone one more time and so did he, both screaming and whispering eachother names between profanities.

He he fell beside her and looked at her face, his breathing slowing down by the second as she smiled at him. She chuckled, embarrassed by the way he was looking at her, making her blush — You're absolutely beautiful. — he declared. And she couldn't help but fall harder for him.

#bill hader imagines #snl bill hader #bill hader #bill #superbad #officer slater x reader #officer slater imagine #officer slater #officer #bill hader x reader #bill hader imagine #mclovin #barry block #barry hbo #barry #bill hader x OFC

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funamusea-translations · 6 years ago

Text

DSP character speech style notes and thoughts

from mod FAFK

I’ll just be writing them as they strike me, there are too many characters to recall immediately lol.

Because of that, under a cut so I can update the list without any un-updated versions floating around.

※Update 1--I wanted a lazy way to make things more legible so I just popped things into a list. Added some more charas too

Satanick

The MOST UNSTABLE speech style. It matches him being mentally unstable.... Normally speaks casually and rough with Envi and other subordinates, Artamos, Fumus, and frequently with Ivlis in the early days (before he noticed he loved him).

Uses a lot of ~desho and ~daro (“aint that right!! Agree with me!!!”-kind-of nuance). He uses a lot of MAJI?! (seriously?!) which makes him sound a little... dumber than his physical appearance would make you think, lol. He has the highest meme concentration (I can’t even start with all of them tbh).

SUPER FORMAL with Siralos. Crazy ultra formal. BUT he refers to Siralos as “Siralos-tan.” This is like saying “Siralos-chan” but cutesier. Siralos-babygurl. It’s definitely something you’d say for an adorable girl, which is probably Siralos’s preference? Probably.

Formal and polite with Reficul and Sin, Eti and Kcalb, if you ignore the content then he would be a fine gentleman. In some of the earliest comics with Refi and Satanick this isn’t the case though, DSP adjusted his character with time.

To Licorice he consistently uses gross babytalk (he talks shumthwing like thwis), and after he notices he loves Ivlis he has a SUPER CLINGY OVERLY-AFFECTIONATE CLOYING STICKILY-SWEET speech style when addressing him.

Normally he uses “ore-sama” to refer to himself (”hell yea I’m awesome”-type nuance), but if he’s bottoming/the sub he switches to boku. To be fair, using “ore-sama” then would kill the mood anyways.

Sin

She doesn’t talk with too many characters--she talks the most in Sunahama Tsuushin(Seashore Dispatches, Sandhill Communications, no official translation). She is very polite and respectful toward Reficul, she speaks to her as though she is her superior. Many of Reficul’s underlings and Mors call Reficul “Maousama/Devil-Lord-sama which is a respectful title, but Sin is the only one (that I know of) who calls her “Reficul-sama” which is the cutest thing!!!!!!!!!! Ever!!!!!!! I get “adoring wife of a warlord/general” type vibes

Lzet

He uses like, business casual language. He’s the sloppy guy at a white-collar workplace, technically formal, but kinda loose? Speaks formal-ish to Mors and Reficul which is sloppy, but if he were to use this same style of speech with someone lower-ranking than him or a friend, it would make him seem a bit shy (like a person who has trouble using entirely casual speech--not uncommon--but I haven’t seen him talk with anyone else yet so idk). He calls Reficul “Maou-sama” (formal title).

Ivlis

When he was young/serving Siralos, as well as when directly addressing/thinking about Siralos-sama himself: SUPER FORMAL. Good kid. Obedient, dutiful, and proper. A few tiny rough spots of speech. (there are some drawings where Ivlis sits seiza-style (formal, uncomfortable posture lol) I think this is reflective of his upbringing. Gray Garden appearance: who is this punk? lol ( ´∀｀ )♡ Consistently uses “ore” (rough-ish) I’ll add a bit more later but there’s not much to him, Satanick is the one with the ridiculously complex style

Licorice

He speaks differently depending on his size. When he is big he calls Ivlis “kaa-san” (still respectful, buuut without the honorific “o” at the start. When he speaks ABOUT his father he will say “tou-san” rather than “otou-san.” However, when speaking directly to Satanick he calls him “dumbass horse shit.”

Baby Licorice just said “ma” and “ba” (short for dumbass/horse shit).

Child Licorice calls Ivlis “mama” and uses kinda shy, sweet kid-talk.As an adult, he talks in a kind of rushed, intense manner to Ivlis and overuses the word “mother” (almost once per sentence, it’s amazing lmao). “Mother you look sad today, whats the matter, Mother you’re wonderful, hey, I won’t let Satanick hurt you Mother--”

Also, he avoids addressing Satanick altogether most of the time. Heavy insults+judgemental attitude lol.

Uses “boku”

Emalf

Uses that semi-casual type of formal speech... (If you’ve seen Shirobako, maybe Takanashi is a good example of how it sounds?) It makes him never seem serious, lacking in discretion, and lacking in brains. It matches him!!!!

“Yeah, I like, totally wanted Yosafire to be my girlfriend so I’m kinda bummed out.” ←something like that (approximation)

He calls Ivlis “Ivlis-san.” In one sense, yeah, it’s better than using no honorific. In another sense, it’s weirdly.... not as respectful as one would expect? He talks like Ivlis is like manager at his workplace, not a Devil Lord lol. All the other subordinates for other devils are more respectful...also yeah, nobody takes Ivlis seriously anyways ((´∀｀*))

Poemi-SAN. She is higher on the social pecking order, despite being younger.

Poemi

Poemi calls Emalf just straight up “Emalf” with no honorifics... the social pecking order lol. . She also has that typical kid-thing where if she doesn’t know a word she’s talking about, it will all by in hiragana, no kanji. She’s childlike, but she has her shit together (unlike Emalf.)

Met

Casual and sloppy

Kuro-tsun - overly buddy-buddy,

Calls Hanten “Nee-san.” Met’s a punk but this sounds full of admiration and kinda flirty. Probably cause it’s Met saying it.

Hanten

Not so sloppy, but casual

“Kurotsuno” no honorific, they feel like they go way back and probably not in the best of senses

Artamos

Grandpa voice (it’s so cute)

Kurotsuno

Very ladylike way of speaking. Not elegant and refined in the same way that Nagi’s speech is, but ladylike.

says “Shikabone-kun” ←cute!!!! It could be his mascot-character like appearance, he does act a bit young but he doesn’t act like she’s much older than him if at all lol.

Shikabone

“Kurotsuno-chan”

Yosafire

Uses “atashi” which is very cute and feminine.

Idate

He’s a “watashi” character and it is so crazy good I love it... He’s a well-mannered killer whale. He uses informal speech, but it’s still gentlemanly. The things he does are so NOT gentlemanly. I screwed up and wrote him saying “ore” in a comic though cause my brain pairs that word with his shitty behavior lol, but he always uses “watashi”!! The contrast is VERY good...

Samekichi You probably know, he has a gruff way of talking! I can imagine N*buhiko Ok*moto would be an amazing voice actor for him (Bakugo/Accelerator/Ghiaccho). He uses “ore” and refers to Wadanohara by name from even their early days (close relationship! Not necessarily romantic, but later of course it will be)

Wadanohara

Sal/Syake

I’ll do more later+add detail!

#deep-sea prisoner #funamusea #translation notes #satanick #sin #lzet #ivlis #licorice #emalf #poemi #met #hanten #artamos #kurotsuno #shikabone #yosafire #idate

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sloshi · 6 years ago

Text

SasuSaku fanfic

Title: Only Human

Pairing: Sasusaku

Rating: T

Summary: When Naruto challenges him to drinking contest, it's only natural Sasuke doesn't refuse. However... the Uchiha has never been drunk before in his life. And when Sakura opens her door at nearly 3 AM, she certainly gets the surprise of a lifetime. Sasusaku. One-shot.

Recommended reading here (Format is corrected)

It’s said that the Uchiha have always been a slave to their emotions.

And, as it was this very night, the Uchiha in question is no exception to his ancient clan’s unusual curse. It is only natural that Sasuke maintains his lineal blight; a crack in his mask of apathy. He cannot run from something ingrained in his DNA. Cannot expunge what is permanently imprinted upon his heart.

Even if Sasuke buries this truth behind layers of concrete denial...

In the end, he is only human.

And when his fourteenth shot glass hammers down on the sleek bar top, Sasuke gets a glimpse as to what that might actually mean when his thoughts run together in a blurred line and alcohol tries his rationality. Where the only organ left functioning spritely is his heart; where emotion has overridden any sensibility the Uchiha has once possessed.

Sasuke feels warmth. He feels it somersaulting and prancing around in his chest where he is usually dormant. He is not one to let his feelings run by unchecked—never has he been so vulnerable in his passing years as he is now, intoxicated beyond repair.

Yet he is here anyway, perched precariously upon a bar stool that the idiot has dragged him upon just hours earlier, swaying to and fro, feeling as light as a balloon.

It has only been a month since he has stepped back through the gates of his home village. But Naruto is already bringing him trouble. He had challenged him to a drinking contest and, despite that Sasuke has never actually been drunk before, he flatly refuses to let the idiot get the upper hand in anything. Even as grown men. How hard could it be? He had thought arrogantly.

“You’ve... always been m’best friend... loser...” the Uchiha slurs. He slouches to lay his head down upon the cold wooden bar top for a fraction of a moment. Then, he decides he does not like that position and he sits back up, swaying. Sasuke picks up the empty shot glass in his fingers and twirls it in a circular, absent-minded motion, as if he is debating something important.

Naruto howls in laughter, wobbling just as unceremoniously as the raven haired man beside him. He claps Sasuke forcibly, with a little more push than Naruto probably intends in his drunken state, on the back. This causes the tiny glass in his fingers to drop back onto the bar top and shatter. “Ha! I never thought you to be the sentimental type, bastard!”

Sasuke isn’t. But the alcohol distorts his brain and he has no idea what he is saying. The words that spill from his lips are not from his conscious, but from an unfamiliar place inside him. The things he has never been able to say out loud before are tumbling out of his lips without regard. He is making a fool of himself, but in this moment there are no thoughts of repercussion. There is no shame in his confession.

“Shut up,” Sasuke bites back without conviction before he swivels a little to far to his right. Naruto snatches his newly attached left arm, catching his best friend from falling off his seat and onto the floor.

“Whoa—!” Naruto exclaims, a flash of sobriety flickering to life in cerulean eyes with his concern, “Maybe we should call it quits; you look like you’ve had enough.”

Sasuke lashes his arm away from him and out of his grip at once. He sits back up straight, with great effort, and holds onto the bar top to steady himself. “Don’t... touch me,” he snaps, but the threat he wants to be there is lost in his slur. His words are sloppy; laughably meaningless. Mismatched eyes are half-lidded and clouded under sharp raven bangs. His cheeks are flushed red with intoxication. “—‘mm not a light weight like... you.”

The blond only lets out a cackle when Sasuke’s attempt at a serious glare fails miserably.

“Who’s gonna’ clean this mess up?” A deep voice chastises and both Sasuke and Naruto look to the frowning bartender who stands with arms taut across his bulky chest behind the counter. He is referring to the shards of glass that glitter on the bar top.

Sasuke jabs a wobbling, accusing finger at the blond next to him, poking the side of his head. “This idiot.” He proclaims confidently, and then pushes the tip of his finger harder against the blonds skull, nearly tipping the Fox boy off his own seat.

Naruto swats his hand away and struggles to regain his balance. “Hey! What the... hell was that for! An’ I didn’t do that!” He defends boisterously, his own words stringing together incoherently before he hiccups.

The bartender only gives a disappointed shake of his head before sighing, as if this happens every night. He pulls a rag out from behind the counter and scrapes the slivers of glass off and into a garbage can hidden from sight before he attends to another customer.

“‘Mm glad you’re back,” Naruto tells him genuinely when the bartender falls out of earshot, “...was getting lonely around here without someone’s ass to kick.”

Sasuke scoffs and tries to roll his eyes at this, but he ends up just making himself dizzy with the motion. He sets a firm elbow on the counter, sliding his head into in his palm lazily as the blond prattles on.

“But you know who really missed you?” Naruto entertains with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows. But Sasuke doesn’t, and he gives a heavy shake of his head in his palm, raven tresses swinging back and forth with the motion.

He leans in incrementally, a sly smirk on his lips, and drops his voice to a whisper as if he were about to reveal a dangerous secret, “Sakura-chan,”

Sasuke blinks heavily. The mention of his pink-haired teammate brings forth a flashback and the last memory he has of her plays in his mind.

His index and middle finger tap the purple diamond seal between her pink eyebrows where Itachi has done so many times to his own before.

Her jade eyes glitter with surprise—and something else he cannot name—when she looks up into his own.

“Maybe next time.” He promises.

“Sssakura.” He echoes, the name slurring off his tongue, as if he’s testing out the syllables for the first time. But he says nothing more on the matter.

Naruto nods his head eagerly, “She missed you soooo much.” he explains, shifting to casually mirror Sasuke’s position as he leans into his own palm, “She neverrrr shuts up about you, believe it!” Naruto straightens back up and snaps his fingers rudely at the bartender, earning him a death glare from the man who is mixing a drink on the other end of the bar. “Another round of shots over here, please! The strongest you got!”

“Hn...” Sasuke grunts, but also sits up; he does not refuse when the next round of alcohol is set before him and throws it back with ease. It burns his throat, and he almost gags, but he holds it down in front of Naruto.

The blond wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and lets out an obnoxious sigh of satisfaction when they slam the empty shot glasses down upon the bar top at the same time. Their challenge has been long forgotten.

“Ssspeaking of Sakura-Chan...” Naruto continues dramatically, and turns to his best friend with curious drunken orbs. “Have you been to see her yet?” He finishes with a hiccup.

He hasn’t, but guilt that was not there before strikes him now. “No...” he replies with a terse shake of his head.

Cloudy blue eyes blink in confusion. “Eh?! Why not?”

Sasuke tries to think about that. When he first arrived back in Konoha, there had been a bountiful to-do-list laid before him. First, he had to meet with Kakashi; who seemed delighted in his return, but nevertheless gave him a serious rundown of the all things he had to catch up on in his year of absence.

There had been mountains of paperwork to fill out in order to keep the Uchiha compound from being repossessed, and it had taken days to clean the cobwebs and dirt that had settled inside every nook and cranny of his abandoned home. He restocked his fridge, did piles of forgotten laundry, changed the linens of every bed in the house, and sorted through all of his old belongings.

He met with Tsunade who, after much convincing, patched him up with a new arm despite his protests. That alone had taken weeks of boring hospitalization and overwhelming medical information. He finds himself surprised that Sakura hadn’t sought him out herself, then. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected her to waltz in the very hospital room he had stayed in; but she never did.

In short, Sasuke had been kept ‘busy’ all month. Tonight is his first night free of any real task and he figured it wouldn’t hurt to join Naruto in his usual shenanigans. He had simply grown bored with his everyday mundane chores. Nothing more.

“Busy...” Sasuke provides what he believes is the truth, but Naruto only takes it as an empty excuse.

“So you’re tellin’ me,” he says as if he’s personally offended, “you didn’t... have even a second of free time to drop by Sakura-Chan’s apartment?”

Another shake of Sasuke’s head.

“Liar!” Naruto’s fist hammers down on the counter, causing the whole bar top to tremble and Sasuke to startle.

Strangers turn curious faces to his outburst and Sasuke’s red face is no longer related to intoxication alone. “Keep it down, idiot!” He seethes through clenched teeth. “Or you’ll get us both thrown out!”

Naruto crosses his arms with an indignant huff, followed by a hiccup. “I’d like to see them try! Only a dumbass would try and throw out the next Hokage!”

A burly shadow falls over the two drunk friends. “What was that?” The bartender offers a second chance, eyes sparking with challenge.

Naruto blinks, sweat-dropping, and waves his hands defensively, “N-N-Nothing! Nothing at all, sir!”

A smug grunt is the only response they receive before he walks away. Naruto exhales loudly in relief, but stiffens in shock when Sasuke lets out quick, silent huffs of laughter.

“Oi! What’s so funny?!” Naruto demands, giving the raven-haired man a pointed shove, but he catches his arm before Sasuke can tip over again. However, the drunk Uchiha does not seem to be bothered by the action this time, as he is bizarrely preoccupied.

The last shot they had taken settles in and tips him to the point of no return, and Sasuke’s head is anywhere but on earth. It is the final push he needs to be free of any last remaining shred of coherence. He is a stranger Naruto has never seen.

“You—!” Sasuke clutches at his chest, struggling to contain his drunken, uncharacteristic bout of silent laughter, “You’re a... you’re a... and you’re afraid of... of...”

Naruto doesn’t quite understand what his friend is saying, nor does he find what is so funny, but he is too shocked by Sasuke’s strange giggle-fit to say anything at all. It’s super weird, and all he can do is gape at the sight.

And then Naruto is laughing, too—but at Sasuke. It’s funny to see his stone-cold friend unwound and seemingly at ease; Even if Sasuke’s lopsided smirk isn’t quite an actual smile. It’s not a common sight, and Naruto does not pass up the opportunity to watch it unfold.

But when Sasuke catches his breath and his body dangerously teeters left to right; Naruto realizes his friend is clearly way in over his head. His mismatched eyes are all over the place, completely disoriented and unrecognizable. Naruto tries to take pride in the fact that Sasuke can’t hold his alcohol, but it quickly turns to worry when the Uchiha tries speaking and nothing he says makes sense. It’s jumbled noises and broken sentences. It disturbs him greatly.

“Okay...” Naruto says hesitantly and a little uncomfortably, instantly sobering up at the sight of his plastered friend, “I think it’s time to get you home...”

Sasuke snorts in disapproval, waving a dismissive hand and blurts: “‘mm fine, loser... just getting started...”

“Say, Sasuke...” the blond begins uneasily as he stands and pulls out his wallet to pay for their many drinks, “Have you... ever been drunk before?”

“I am’not drunk,” Sasuke scoffs, drawling out his words matter-of-factly, but Naruto knows he is lying and the Uchiha crosses his arms on the bar top, laying his spiked raven head on them. “‘Mm just a little tired...” his body jolts with a quiet hiccup.

Oh, man. Naruto thinks nervously as he observes his near comatose friend. There’s no way he can take care of himself right now.

The blond places a heap of money on the counter before he leans down to try and haul Sasuke’s arm up and over his shoulder. The Uchiha mutters a string of protests, but doesn’t seem to be able to physically fight back. Naruto tries to adjust his friend comfortably against him when they stand, but Sasuke is instantly a dead-weight and Naruto almost topples over.

“Jesus Christ! Just how much do you weigh?!”

“Wha’... are you doing...” Sasuke mumbles, head lolling to the side when Naruto just about drops him. But the blond finally finds his balance and adjusts Sasuke’s arm slung over his shoulder.

“I’m taking you home.” Naruto tells him sternly as if he’s talking to a child, taking slow, careful steps toward the exit. Sasuke’s feet practically drag along the wooden floor.

When they stumble outside, Naruto hopes the cool air will help shake Sasuke’s wits, but it does nothing of the sort. His raven head lolls to the side with every wobbling step they take together.

“S...”

Naruto pauses and looks to his friend who is struggling to lift his head.

“What?” He leans in, straining to hear.

“S... Sa...” he slurs, and Naruto blinks. “Ssakura.”

“Sakura-Chan?” He echoes in bewilderment. “What about her?”

“‘mm... go... house...”

“You want me to take you to Sakura-Chan’s house?” He splutters incredulously.

Sasuke nods precariously, but Naruto does not move. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sasuke.”

The Uchiha makes a strained noise, followed by a hiccup. “...now.”

Dammit... Naruto curses inwardly. Sakura-Chan will kill me if I bring Sasuke to her like this... He bites his lip and shutters just thinking about it. But I can’t really drop him off home alone... And Hinata-chan might be uncomfortable if I bring him back to the apartment... He remembers then that Sakura is a medic; she would know exactly how to take care of him. Naruto considers the Uchiha hanging upon his shoulder and sighs in defeat.

“If that’s what you really want...”

There is a slight movement from Sasuke, and he knows it’s a nod.

Here goes nothing...

————————————-

The first thing Sakura is aware of when she is jolted from a deep sleep are the blazing red numbers of her alarm clock that reads 2:47 AM, and the desperate pounding of her front door downstairs.

She is on her feet immediately; there is an emergency. Someone is hurt or dying—she is prepared to be on call at all times. She curses when she throws open her bedroom door, not bothering to throw a jacket on over her white spaghetti-strapped tank top, and takes three steps at a time down the stairs until she jumps off and clambers to her front door, ready to answer the medic who stands in wait just outside.

Sakura nearly chokes in relief when the door flys open and reveals two of her closest friends side by side on her porch. But there is something terribly wrong; her relief is shattered when she notices that something with Sasuke is not right. His unconscious body hangs limply off Naruto’s side.

“Sasuke-kun!” She nearly screams in horror, assuming the worst immediately. He is dying, or he is already dead. Every second that ticks by is a chance she loses to save him. She reaches out to him instantly, but is taken aback when the blond grins sheepishly and she second guesses herself.

“Surprise!” Naruto says half-heartedly. “I brought you a present.”

Sakura sputters in disbelief and looks as if she has been slapped. “What the—what the hell? Is Sasuke-kun okay? Is he hurt?”

“Oh, he’s fine.” Naruto assures despite that he looks anything but. He adjusts Sasuke on his shoulders when he groans quietly, “Remind me to never go out drinking with him again. Can you believe Sasuke of all people can’t handle his liquor, I mean—“

But Sakura is already taking the Uchiha out of his arms. They switch him over awkwardly and Sasuke almost falls onto his face before Sakura catches him. His sudden weight startles her and she squeaks when he nearly pulls her to the ground with him. She quickly taps into her chakra and holds him steady. Their difference in height makes it a little difficult to adjust, but she is successful when she finally decides to turn around and hoist Sasuke high upon her back. When her hands hook under his knees and his hands hang limp over her shoulders, piggybacked, she unleashes her fury upon the blond.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?!” She screeches in a whisper as to not wake the man on her back, and his sudden warm sigh against her ear makes her shudder, and then she scrunches her nose when the smell of hard liquor hits her nostrils. “You idiot! What the hell is wrong with you!”

Naruto scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “S-Sorry, Sakura-Chan... but the bastard asked to come here.”

She freezes in her next insult to blink. “You—what?”

“He asked me to take him to your house, so I did.”

Sakura is silent for a moment as she considers the weight of this. Sasuke... wanted to come to her house? But why? It’s a bizarre idea to accept, especially since he hadn’t even bothered to see her in the entire month he’s been home. And now he just wants to be dumped at her doorstep? This better not be a joke! Or someone’s gonna pay! CHA!

When Sasuke mumbles quietly in her ear, she stiffens. She has no idea how to handle this; she has yet to even process what is happening. But the minute Naruto steps off her porch and leaves them alone, Sakura panics. Sasuke is drunk and sitting on her back like a giant sleeping child.

Slowly, as not to wake him, she creeps back into the house, shutting the door as quietly as possible with her foot. It clicks loudly and she flinches, but Sasuke only grumbles incoherently in her ear. A sigh of relief escapes her. His body jumps with silent hiccups. But now she is faced with another trying task: to lay him down without the risk of waking him.

That is, if he’s even sleeping. He seems to be, but the way he keeps slurring things in her ear tells her he’s just disoriented and teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. She knows he needs water. Carefully, she makes her way into the living room where she turns around and tries to lower the sleeping giant onto the cushions, but the position is awkward and she falls straight into his lap.

She feels him startle beneath her, jolted awake by the unexpected weight on his thighs and she squeaks in surprise, jumping to her feet and twirling around to face what she assumes will be wrath.

But he blinks up at her groggily, as if he’s not quite sure she’s there or not.

“...Sakura?” He slurs softly, the confusion saturating his deep voice.

“Y-Yup,” she laughs nervously, wringing her hands, “it’s just me.”

Way to go, idiot! Inner Sakura screeches at herself. Get a grip!

“Wha’... what are you... doing here?”

She blinks before supplying uneasily, “You’re... you’re in my house.”

It’s then that it seems to hit him where he is, because he sits up straighter and a little alarmed. “But... Naruto—?”

“—dropped you off here.”

However, he doesn’t seem to understand, or comprehend the absurdity of the situation because he relaxes his shoulders and simply replies, “Aa...”

As if it were perfectly fine he was sitting under her roof and wasted in her living room...

There is an awkward silence on Sakura’s part, and she fidgets where she stands. Perhaps he really is that drunk? She wonders what his blood alcohol level is, and she knows it must be high.

“I—I’ll go get you some water...”

Before he has a chance to reply, she skitters into the kitchen and throws open the cupboard, grabbing the first glass she sees and runs it under the tap. The cup trembles in her hand as it fills to the brim, and she can’t help but dread what Sasuke will do when he wakes up tomorrow and finds out he has slept in her house. She hasn’t spoken to him in over a year; she hasn’t seen him in over a year. And now he’s just—he’s just suddenly going to casually crash on her couch?! Unbelievable! Oops!—She turns off the tap when she realizes the cup is over flowing.

She pivots around and screams, the glass plunging to the tiled floor and exploding into a million pieces when a large, wobbly looming figure stands directly behind her in the door way.

“S-Sasuke-kun!” She breathes in horror. “You scared the hell—” she chokes on her words when he advances toward her. She quickly gains her bearings when she realizes where he’s about to step. “Wait—Sasuke-kun, there’s glass everywhere!”

She herself is barefoot, and she tries to step over the mess to stop him but yelps when she feels a shard puncture her heel.

“Ouch!” She hobbles over to him, trying to shove him out of the kitchen and back into the other room, but it’s as if she’s pushing against a brick wall. “Sasuke-kun! Please—you need to lie down and—!”

She freezes when a large hand is pressed on top of her head. She blinks before she looks up and meets half-lidded mismatched eyes. Her heart hammers like a drum within her chest and suddenly she cannot breathe.

“I—“ he starts, but his eyebrows furrow in what she assumes is pained confusion, “I do not... feel so well.”

“That’s because you’re drunk!” She snaps, and she can feel blood seeping from her barefoot and onto the cold floor. “Now, go lay down!” She demands as if she’s talking to an ornery dog rather than a grown man. He stares blankly down at her, wholly unaffected by her reprimand. Anger bubbles dangerously within her. What, has he suddenly become deaf, too?!

Just when she thought he wasn’t going to acknowledge her at all, he nods once, and then turns to stumble back down the hallway to the living room—a hand following along the wall no doubt trying to keep himself upright. Sakura’s chest heaves with apprehension and something else, but she doesn’t allow herself to linger on the feeling. She has a mess to clean up, a foot to heal, and a drunken man she loves, to take care of.

A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes her lips as she turns around to clean up the broken glass and huge puddle of water, but a distinct ‘thump!’ has her bristling in place. Without a second thought, she scrambles—hopping on her injured foot—towards the living room only to find Sasuke flat on his face in the middle of it, clearly unsuccessful in making his way to the couch.

“Ugh! Sasuke-kun!” She is pulling at her pink stresses. “What the hell did you even drink!”

There is a muffled sound and Sakura realizes with baffled amusement that he has actually responded to her, face down in the carpet. She makes her way over to his side, ignoring the shooting pain in her heel, and kneels next to him, gently pressing a hand to the Uchiha crest on his back.

“Sasuke-kun...” she murmurs sadly, crest-fallen at his terrible state.

Naruto’s gonna pay for this! Inner Sakura erupts in flames, cracking her knuckles, For both making Sasuke miserable and ruining our reunion!

This was not how she expected her first meeting with him would go at all! She sighs and shakes her head in disappointment; it can’t be helped. Her hand slides up from between his shoulder blades into his silky raven hair where she slowly caresses his scalp. She is surprised when he lets out a quiet grunt, and she’s not sure if it’s because of her hand in his hair or because she’s said his name.

“You can’t stay here on the floor.” She whispers, fingers still gently playing in his inky tresses. “We have to get you on the couch.”

He doesn’t move and Sakura understands with great resentment that she must drag him there herself. She musters up all of her courage and leans over him, tapping into her super human strength as she hauls him upright by the arm and slings it over her shoulder. She carefully guides him to the couch where she is finally able to lay him down. She kneels in front of him and the Uchiha turns his head marginally towards her, mismatched orbs barely open and blinking heavily.

Sakura hesitantly reaches to his face, laying a gentle hand on his flushed cheek before lightly brushing away the bangs that make it hard to see his eyes. “Are you okay?” She asks quietly, though her gentle voice is amplified in the heavy silence.

He doesn’t nod, or reply. He just stares.

...

And stares.

...

And stares.

The only sound in the air is their unsteady breathing, and Sakura thinks she might go crazy if he doesn’t stop looking at her like that.

She gets up to stand and leave, “I—I’ll go get you a pillow and blank—“

She turns to move, only to freeze when a firm hand snatches her wrist—as swift as a striking cobra. Electric spiders shoot up her arm at his touch, and the air punches from her lungs. Slowly, as if she’s afraid of what she might find when she does, she turns to look over her shoulder and down at him. His expression is unreadable; blank as a canvas. There is nothing to indicate what he is thinking, and she is left baffled by his bold and confusing gesture.

“Sasuke... kun?” She breathes in astonishment, unsure jade eyes flickering to his unyielding hold on her wrist. “What are you d—?”

“You—“ he interjects abruptly, and then stops as if he’s hesitating. “Why... haven’t you... “ he struggles here, but finds the words he’s so desperately looking for when he finally chokes, “...come to see me?”

Sakura’s world stops. As if someone pesky has stolen the remote and presses pause at the most crucial part of a scene. Everything is at a standstill. Even Inner Sakura is shocked into silence. She is sure her eyes are wide and her jaw has slackened, but she cannot get her body to respond.

Did Sasuke... just... just ask her...

“Sakura?” He slurs uneasily, and its here that her world resumes and she starts to breathe again. She has to remind herself that Sasuke is not coherent. That he has no idea what he’s saying—or if he’ll even remember tonight at all. It would take hours before he was even sober again. She can see the fog in his questioning eyes. He is still highly intoxicated; drunk.

Yet, despite all of this, the gravity of his inquiry hits her like a brick.

Because, in order to ask something like that drunk, he had to be thinking it soberly in the first place.

So... What did that mean? Was he bothered by her absence? Was he hurt by it? Had... had he been waiting for her all this time? Sakura always assumed Sasuke would come see her when he saw it fit; assumed that his schedule would only allow for him to decide when to take action. Assumed that, perhaps, in the end, he just didn’t want to see her after all.

But he is here, wondering why she had not come to see him.

And she is speechless.

“I—“ The words die on her lips. She finds there is nothing she can say, because now she’s internally asking herself the same question.

Why hasn’t she gone to see him?

Sasuke has been the man she loved her whole life. And yet, even after his long awaited return, she never made a move to put herself in his path. Sakura genuinely believed that he had his hands tied; that important tasks had to be dealt with first and foremost, and that when he was finished he would be on her doorstep, ready to talk. She had not wanted to be in his way. Did not want to bother him in his homecoming adjustment. She had been patient. She wanted him to come to her, just this once.

And oh, how the fates have granted her wish in the most unfortunate fashion.

“I don’t know.” She squeaks nervously, and cannot meet his half-lidded eyes.

After a tense silence, the magnetic pull of his gaze draws her reluctantly back to his face; jade eyes finally dare to meet mismatched ones, and she thinks his eyebrows furrow marginally in hurt, but when she blinks it’s gone.

“I... see.”

His hand drops from her wrist and it’s as if she’s lost her anchor—she floats to the surface where she finally draws a breath she has not realized she has been holding. The feeling is strange now that his warmth is gone, and leaves something like the ghost of a burn where his slender fingers held tight. This time, he does not stop her when she walks away.

Hobbling up the stairs, she reaches into the hallway closet and gathers a heap of bedding in her arms. She hopes it’s enough to keep him comfortable, but there is no telling if he’ll even fall asleep. With her luck, he’ll be causing her trouble until the break of dawn.

Hopping carefully with her injured foot back down the stairs, she stiffens the moment she re-enters the living room and Sasuke is sitting upright.

A weak smile is all she can muster. “S-Sasuke-kun, you should lay down.”

He doesn’t, of course, and she sighs. She drapes the soft blanket over his shoulders like a cape, pulling it snuggly around his chest and sets the pillow down behind him, waiting for him to speak—or do anything to show he’s acknowledged her.

But he doesn’t do that, either.

His gaze is unfocused; unseeing over her shoulder back toward the hallway. It’s as if he’s in a trance, spellbound. His body sways slightly, a testament to the many drinks he has consumed. And when his lips finally part, she is genuinely startled by the choked plea that falls from his lips, shattering the heavy silence.

“Why?”

It’s a single word, but it bleeds with a wound far beyond what her eyes can see. Her chest tightens at the sound. She knows exactly what he’s asking, and when he finally meets her gaze, prickling tears blur her vision. Mismatched eyes are pained, as if he’s been betrayed by something unspoken or an action left undone. Sakura understands now with frightening clarity that she has hurt him in some, small way. The ice buries itself in her gut, twisting and clawing at her insides with bitter regret. She has genuinely hurt Sasuke. The idea surprises as much as it confuses her.

“Sasuke-kun...” she whispers, but her voice is broken. Her throat is dry, and she swallows the bitterness in her mouth thickly. The hot tears are threatening to spill. She is coming undone in front of him. But nothing could have prepared her for what happens next.

“...!” His eyes widen abruptly when the Uchiha clamps a firm hand over his mouth.

And Sakura knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Oh, know you don’t! Inner Sakura shrieks with a shake of her fist.

Instinctively, she summons her super-strength, scoops the grown man into her arms in—you guessed it: bridal style, and screams: “Shan-naro!” As she heaves him with all of her might into her arms. She bolts across the hallway and gallops up the stairs as fast as her feet can take her.

The second she crashes into the tiny bathroom, she stumbles forward and loses her footing in her haste. Sasuke is thrown from her arms and his spiked raven head smacks the hard tile the same time her pink head hits his broad chest.

“Umph!”

However, there is no time to worry or express her apology because she is instantly—roughly—thrown backwards and onto her back when Sasuke shoves her off so hard that for a terrifying moment, she thinks he is going to attack her. But to her surprise, he clambers desperately across the floor to the pristine toilet basin where he retches violently.

Oh.

Sakura winces at the sound, but not from disgust. As a medic, she has grown desensitized to bodily fluids and it takes way more than measly vomit to turn her insides. She winces at his misery; his entire body shakes with each gag. There is an overwhelming urge to comfort him, so she carefully crawls over to his hunched form and places a gentle hand between his shoulder blades where she rubs small, soothing circles upon his back.

“It’ll be okay, Sasuke-kun,” she coos softly, “I’m so sorry.” And it’s not just this particular situation she’s sorry for. “What were you thinking, drinking so much? It’s not like you to be so... so... irresponsible...” Sasuke isn’t exactly the first person who comes to mind with that word, and she cannot believe she’s even saying it. It strikes her with disbelief: she’s reprimanding Sasuke Uchiha. Scolding him, like a disobedient child.

For the first time in her life, she is angry with him. Her hand drops from his back and she has to curl it into a fist to keep from smacking him over the head. As if it’s Naruto sitting in front of her rather than the almighty Uchiha prodigy.

The Uchiha in question gives a final retch, spits, and then lifts his head when his hands fall away from the basin and he sits back on his palms, chest heaving. His tortured expression tugs at her heart and Sakura sighs, replacing her hand on his back and resumes the circular motion she hopes is comforting.

“Feel better?” After freeing his stomach of all that alcohol, she’s sure he does. However, it looks as if sobriety isn’t coming to him anytime soon. In short, Sasuke is still wasted.

“...” he pants, mismatched eyes half-lidded and heavy with exhaustion.

“Here...” she stands up to close the toilet lid and flushes the contents before she makes her way to the bathroom sink, where she opens the mirrored medicine cabinet. “I don’t have an extra toothbrush or anything, but...” She plucks the oblong see-through bottle off the shelf, swishing the light blue liquid around. “This should help.”

She kneels next to him on the tile and offers him the mouthwash, only to choke when he takes it from her hands and throws it back like it’s a water bottle, gulping the contents.

“What the—Sasuke-kun, no!” She screeches in horror, ripping the bottle from his hands and spilling the blue liquid all over the place. “This is mouthwash! Not—not a drink!”

Sasuke is genuinely startled but it doesn’t seem to register what he’s just done. He blinks at her innocently.

Has he lost his mind?!

“You—!” Her lips flounder in shock, torn between disbelief and awe at what he has just done and the clueless expression on his face that is maddeningly adorable. She shakes her head, “J-Just... never mind.”

She takes his hand to try and help him to his feet—he snatches it away from her, “‘mm fine.” He grumbles, but he is far from it. “...I don’t... need... your help.”

Sakura’s hands are stern on her hips. “Like hell you do!” She reaches out to reclaim his hand but he pulls it away. Anger roars to life; the medic inside her is on his case instantly, “Don’t you dare catch an attitude with me when you’re the one who did this to yourself in the first place! You’re a mess! But I’m not just going to sit here while you puke your guts out and fall all over the place! I’m not going to let you hurt yourself just because you’re stubborn! So shut up, and let me help you!”

“...no.”

Her eye twitches.

She reaches for him a final time, but when he promptly smacks her hand away, something inside of her snaps.

She bristles and her hands ball into angry fists. Oh, hell no! Inner Sakura shrieks. “Fine.” She bites out, “If you��re so confident that you don’t need my help, prove it. Stand up.” And she herself gets to her feet, crossing her arms. He glares up at her, and when he doesn’t move, she taunts: “Well, go on then. Stand up.”

Slowly, carefully, he places both hands on the toilet lid and tries to heave his body upward unsteadily. It’s almost too embarrassing to watch. When he is finally on both feet—albeit swaying dangerously—he smirks triumphantly down at her. He teeters back and forth, and Sakura knows he’s going to lose his balance at any given moment and she almost hopes he will: Maybe he’ll learn his lesson! CHA!

He wobbles backwards and forwards, and then it finally happens.

“...!” Mismatched eyes widen when he tips a little too far backwards. Sakura reaches out a hand, but before she can do anything to stop it, Sasuke grabs onto it desperately and she’s pulled down with him. They both topple backwards into the bathtub behind him—the pink shower curtain, along with the metal rod, comes raining down upon them and swallows their tangled form. Sasuke’s arms move instinctively; they are tight and protective around her, as if the sound of the falling plastic around them had scared him into thinking something far worse was falling on them.

Sakura’s heart thunders mercilessly, and with her ear pressed tightly against his chest, she can hear his heart pounding in sync with her own.

It is deathly silent. Sasuke’s warm, minty breath puffs heavily against the top of her head and she is too terrified to move. The air punches from her lungs when his arms instinctively clench around her in response to a loud clatter that shatters the silence and echos in the claustrophobic space. A shampoo bottle, she realizes but barely registers. The only thing she can comprehend is the thundering of Sasuke’s heart beneath her ear. It’s racing, and something screams at her that it isn’t from anxiety alone.

It’s here that she dares to look up at him, and when she does it’s clear that he is shaken. His wide mismatched eyes meet hers in pure horror. And if that wasn’t enough to sober him up, the fact that she was on top of him, encircled in his arms, awkwardly straddling his hips, inches from his face, probably was.

She swallows thickly.

“Are... are you okay?” The tips of their noses are millimeters from touching.

“...yes.” His hot breath fans her lips.

Everything about this small moment is amplified. He is beautiful, and she is reminded that it has been a year since she’s last seen him. His one obsidian eye is flecked grey, no longer flat black in her close proximity. His lashes are full and a smidgen longer than they once were. Longer, sharp, raven bangs fall over his still-widened eyes, stopping just short the tip of his aristocratic nose. She inhales, and he smells of mint and a touch of alcohol, but his natural scent is there. He smells of sandalwood; the burning of a campfire on a late summers evening. She is reminded of how much she had missed him.

She is reminded of how much she loves him.

Sasuke stares back at her silently. She can tell by the look in his eyes that he is still not quite sober, but is the closest he will get to it until he sleeps it off. His lips part, as if to say something, but they close and he says nothing at all.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes, breaking the heavy silence, and she feels him startle lightly at her sudden words. “I shouldn’t have egged you on like that. It’s just—all I wanted to do was help you, and you made me so mad and—“

“Sakura.”

“—I should have come to see you. I didn’t even know you wanted to see me, I had no idea; honest! I mean, I missed you so much and asked about you and how you were doing—“

“Sakura.”

“—and it sounded like you had a lot on your plate and I didn’t want to annoy you or—or—bother you in any way because I figured if you wanted to see me, you would just come find me and—“

“Sakura.”

She blinks, pausing in her nervous ramble to finally pay him attention. His mismatched eyes are soft around the edges, contradicting the snap of his voice.

“I...” he swallows, as if his next words are hard to say. And then he rips it off like a bandaid. “...missed... you, too.”

Everything Sakura had left to say vanishes out the window. Just like that, her mind is blank. She blinks—once, twice, thrice. Had she heard him correctly? “W-what?”

“...You heard me the first time.”

“I—“ She has no idea what to say. But then she is left confused. “Then... how come you didn’t come to see me?”

He promptly looks away from her, turning his face toward the bathtub nozzle. He is silent, and Sakura doesn’t expect him to respond, but when he does, she gapes in disbelief.

“I waited.”

Huh? Inner Sakura works quickly to figure out what he means by this, but she comes up empty-handed and is left bewildered.

“For... for what?” She asks, mentally ripping her hair out in suspense. Just get on with it already! For what! “Sasuke-kun!” When he doesn’t answer, she shimmies out of his arms and playfully smacks his chest. “Answer me!”

He narrows his eyes at her, clearly not appreciative of the gesture, but turns his head back to her in response.

“Out of curiosity.” He supplies plainly, but Sakura knows that’s not the real answer. She frowns at his stubborn ego.

“Out of... curiosity? That’s it?” She tries not to let the lie get to her, but the tears are already prickling in her eyes. Perhaps... she was wrong and it was not a lie after all. “So, my feelings are just... entertainment for you?”

His eyes widen marginally at her accusation, the realization of what he has just unintentionally implied hitting him like a slap to the face, but before he has the chance to fix his mistake, she is climbing off of him and steps out of the bathtub.

“Sakura—“ he reaches out a desperate hand to stop her, but she’s already heading towards the door.

“Save it.” She pauses in the doorway, but doesn’t look back at him. “I’ll call Naruto to get you home safely. The next time you decide to get hammered, make sure you end up at the right place. I hope this was entertainment enough for you.” And then she is gone.

‘I hope this was entertainment enough for you.’

He blinks in astonishment. The alcohol still swims through his veins, but the only thing he can feel is the talons of regret clawing at his insides. He has no idea how it all went sideways so fast. Her words are venom, and they sting far more than he expects. He struggles to climb out of the bathtub and untangle himself from the shower curtain, but the room spins and the curtain wraps around his ankle the second he tries to stand and he falls forward. The ache in the back of his head from his earlier fall pulses. He feels sick again, but there is nothing left for his stomach to expel. The bathroom tile is cold and sobering against his cheek; he closes his eyes and wills to stop the world from spinning around him. But it doesn’t. It’s as if he is prisoner to a merry-go-round and his punisher will show him no such mercy.

Stop. He pleads silently. And there, helpless and abandoned on Sakura’s bathroom floor, he decides he will never touch alcohol again. He has made a fool of himself. And, as snippets of the night’s earlier events flicker unbidden behind his eyelids, he cringes in mortification. He remembers falling flat on his face in the living room, and her slender fingers in his hair.

‘You can’t stay here on the floor.’

He remembers Sakura carrying him on her back and up the stairs when he had just about threw up everywhere. He remembers her gentle hand on his back, her soft words. He remembers latching onto her wrist and asking why she hadn’t come to see him. He remembers the broken look in her tearful emerald eyes.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I... see.’

And when he opens his eyes, they immediately take note of the tiny red smudges upon the white tile that lead to the doorway. Blood. And then he remembers the explosion of shattered glass.

‘Wait—Sasuke-kun, there’s glass everywhere!’

Her pained expression, her genuine concern that he would step on the shards and in turn hurt herself instead. Why? Why did he ask the idiot to bring him to her house? More importantly, why did the idiot listen when he was clearly in no state of mind to be making decisions!

Sakura had probably been peacefully sleeping in bed before Naruto dumped him at her doorstep. Before he made a mess of her night. Before he placed such an unnecessary, heavy burden on her shoulders.

Embarrassment. Shame. Guilt.

All at once. Sasuke Uchiha wishes the floor would swallow him up. But it doesn’t, and the gravity of reality holds him to the floor. He has to fix it. Sakura’s last words ring in his ears, deafening him. And then his own.

‘Out of curiosity.’

He scoffs at himself. Just what the hell made him say that? Sure he had been curious—way more curious than he’d ever admit to himself—as to when and if she would come to see him, but it was definitely not out of amusement. Sasuke doesn’t play with people’s feelings. And he sure as hell isn’t getting a kick out of Sakura’s. No. He waited because... because...

He blinks, unable to finish the thought. Because...? It’s here that Sasuke is confused. He doesn’t realize that he has waited—subconsciously avoided her—all this time because he is scared of facing Sakura after everything he’s done. His pride would never allow such a thought. Sasuke Uchiha isn’t scared of anything. But in the end, he is only human. He had been scared that over time, she would change her mind, and that she would not forgive him. Scared that she would look at him with the same disdainful eyes everyone else did. He was a traitor; a criminal. He has held her bare throat in his hands and has tried to run a Chidori straight through the very heart that loved him.

Scared, because he knows he does not deserve to be forgiven.

And scared, because she knows this, too.

Instead, Sasuke settles on believing he has waited because it isn’t his business what she does. Or who she decides to see. Or whatever she decides to do in her free time. He doesn’t care that she hasn’t come to see him. Just... a little surprised. But when she had rambled in his arms only minutes ago, saying she had missed him, that she had asked about his absence, that she had truly just respected his space, relief overwhelmed him. He had released an internal breath he never knew he was holding. It flooded his chest with warmth. Filled him to the brim with reassurance. Of course Sakura still loves him.

He clenches his teeth. Now look what he’s done! He’s ruined any chance of a normal reunion, and he hates himself for it. The room spins continuously, but this time Sasuke is determined not to let the alcohol win. He clambers to his feet, using the wall next to him for support, and takes a minute to steady himself. Okay. One step at a time. Carefully, he places one foot in front of the other, creeping across the bathroom as if he’s crossing a cliff’s ledge over great heights. He has to make it to Sakura before she can call Naruto. He has to make things right. He is dizzy, he stumbles, his eyes fall in and out of focus, but he does not stop.

When he reaches the doorway, he clings to the doorframe and leans out, looking left and right. Where had she gone? He stops and listens carefully. Just barely, he can make out the sound of tinkering glass, and he knows she’s in the kitchen cleaning the mess that is his fault. He frowns. Not because he has found her, but because she is downstairs. As in, he will have to make it down a flight of perilous steps without breaking his neck. However, his determination does not waver and he steps out into the hall.

Gripping the wooden railing, he braces himself. The steps are steep, and as he looks down at them, it’s as if the bottom is miles away. One foot. Another. He steps down painfully slow, and the step creaks under his weight. He stops and listens for any sign that would indicate that she’s heard him, but the shuffling of glass and a wrinkle of a trash bag eases his nerves. Good. He wants to prove to her that he is not a burden. That even drunk, he is perfectly capable of handling himself. Another step. As his confidence grows, he lets go of the railing. Perhaps, if he just showed her his effort in making it down to her, she’d see that her feelings for him were far more than just entertainment. Perhaps, if he—

His foot misses the next step.

“F—!” Is the only sound he can manage before he is tumbling painfully down her steps.

When he lands, it’s hard and damning. His face slams into the floorboard with a sickening crunch and he knows he has surely broken his nose. The air is still with a finality that has him closing his eyes in defeat. And when he hears her hurried footfalls careening down the hallway’s wooden floorboards and ever closer, he wants to disappear forever.

“Sasuke-kun!” She is screaming, half out of her mind with worry.

But it’s the last sound that rings in his ears before he slips unconscious.

————————————-

Sakura nearly goes into cardiac arrest when she discovers the Uchiha still as stone at the stairs landing. Her heart hammers like a war-drum in her ears, and she doesn’t know what to check first. She collapses to her knees next to him and takes note of the slight expansion of his rib cage—but just because he is breathing doesn’t mean something else isn’t broken. He is on his front, and so she carefully flips him over; only to squeak in fright at the crimson liquid that trickles from his nose.

“What the hell were you thinking, idiot!” She cries despite not being heard. “You could have snapped your neck! I can’t bring back the dead!” Her chest tightens at the very idea and any reason she has justified to herself abandoning him in the bathroom, melts into regret. She should have never let him out of her sight. He had seemed like he was almost sober when she left him last!

Well, you were clearly wrong! Inner Sakura berates angrily. Now look what you did!

Tears spill over the palm that covers her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sasuke-kun!”

After a thorough check of the unconscious Uchiha, she heals his broken nose and sprained wrist. He is lucky. She hauls him into her arms and carries him to the living room couch where she lays his head on the pillow and pulls the blanket to his chin.

He looks adorable, but she can’t stop the tears from rolling down her face to appreciate his sleeping expression. She kneels at his side and lays her head upon his chest. It rises and falls slowly.

“You... jerk.” She mumbles as she turns to face him. He remains undisturbed, peaceful in his drunken slumber. “I...”

Little does Sakura know, Sasuke has been conscious since the moment she had picked him up off the floor. The movement had stirred him awake, but he did not dare open his eyes to face her. He pretends to sleep, holding on to every word she breathes.

“I wish you had just come to see me; even once. But no. You just had to make it a big deal. You’re a such a drama queen.”

Sasuke has to physically hold back a quiet snort of laughter. His breath hitches, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“But... You’ve always hated me, haven’t you?” He has to refrain from frowning. “You say you miss me, but do you really? Naruto says you never ask about me. The ‘next time’ that you promised me before you left never came. Was that a lie, too?” Sasuke wants to shake his head, but remains deadly still. “Are you a liar, Sasuke-kun?” She sighs and he feels the warmth on his chest. “You never seem to want me around. You say I’m annoying, but what does that even mean? Why are you really here tonight? You hurt me over... and over.”

Sasuke is uncomfortable. He now feels as if he is intruding on something he most definitely should not be hearing. But he can’t back out now. He can’t find the will to stop her, and he realizes with horror that he wants to know more. She shifts.

“And yet...” the weight disappears off of his chest. And when she speaks next, the proximity of her voice nearly startles him. Her warm breath is on his face, as if she’s merely inches away. His heart picks up the pace and he doesn’t know whether it’s from fear or anticipation. But nothing could have prepared him for what she says next:

“I’m so in love with you.”

His heart drops. As if he is free falling. The shock that shoots through his body at her words is both exhilarating and terrifying; his eyes snap open. He sits straight up, nearly head butting her, and instantly, she screams and falls backward onto her elbows, where she scrambles farther away. “S-Sasuke-kun! I—I thought—!”

“Sakura.”

She looks at him as if he’s the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen. He wants to smirk at her reaction, but the weight of her words sit heavy on his heart and he can do nothing but stare.

“Is that true.”

Her lips flounder and she looks as if she has seen a ghost. When the shock finally fades from her face, he sees that her cheeks are stained pink. Her lips lift in a wide, almost cheeky, grin and it fills him with bliss. She scoots closer until she’s kneeling beside him once more. Her expression is shy, and her eyes are everywhere but his face. His heart thunders mercilessly.

“Sakura?”

She isn’t looking at him. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Her eyes meet his.

“I love you, Sasuke-kun.”

“...!” His eyes widen. Sakura’s confession is bold, but its spoken with such conviction that his mind double takes. As if it goes without question. As if there was never a doubt in the first place. It was firm. Real.

She really loves him. Even after everything he’s done. Even after the trouble he’s put her through tonight. Even after he’s broken her heart so many times.

“I—“ he is winded. His chest heaves with an unknown emotion and he is unprepared. He is scared.

Scared, because his heart won’t stop pounding.

Scared, because he realizes with frightening clarity that he just might love her, too.

Any last lingering effect from the alcohol is gone. He is stone-cold sober.

The world behind her fades away, and there is nothing left but her glittering eyes. She is startlingly beautiful in this moment. She leans in slowly, carefully. He knows what she’s going to do, but he can’t move. His heart thuds in his ears. Her face inches ever closer, and a sheen of moisture sits pretty on her lower lip. He can’t take his eyes off it. And just when he leans down to close the gap—

Bam! Bam! Bam!

They freeze in place, eyes wide, their lips a mere whisper apart. A very familiar voice shouts from outside the house.

“Sakura-Chan! Sakura-Chan!” Naruto’s fist slams upon her front door and it echos in the silence of her house. “Hinata-chan said it was probably a bad idea to leave the bastard here! Bring him out, I’ll take him back home! Sakura-Chan! Saku—!”

She rips the door open, bristling with anger, flames in her eyes, and Naruto immediately shrinks in fear. “H-Hey! W-What’s—?”

She promptly smacks him over the head. “Beat it, idiot! Sasuke-kun is sleeping and if you wake him, there will be hell to pay!” Inner Sakura is already pushing up her sleeves.

Naruto throws his hands up defensively and immediately backs down and off her porch. “L-Loud and clear, Sakura-chan!” And then he scurries off down the road and disappears. She breathes a sigh of relief, but the second she closes the door behind her, she squeaks when she is pressed back against the wooden slab.

“Sleeping, huh?” Sasuke smirks, and Sakura bites her lip nervously. He presses a hand against the door just next to her ear, and cocks his head marginally to the side in amusement. “...Are you a liar, Sakura?” He mimics her earlier words.

This seems to snap her from her trance, because she’s defensive immediately. “Hey! You weren’t even supposed to—“

He dips his head down to meet her lips—

Only for him to change direction in the last second, falling past her head, meeting the wooden door slab face to face as a dizzy spell claims his conscious. He groans before collapsing to her shoulder and falls sideways and onto the floorboards with a ‘thud!’ before she can react.

“Sasuke-kun!” She squeaks, kneeling at his side immediately. “Are you okay!”

She shakes his shoulders insistently, but when a light snore drifts to her ears she freezes, and then deflates with disappointment. Sasuke is fast asleep.

You’ve got to be kidding! Just when he... he was just about to... Inner Sakura cradles her knees to her chest, mourning the loss of her first kiss with the Uchiha.

She sighs heavily, hauling Sasuke into her arms for the last time and lays him gently on the couch, hovering just above his peaceful face. She studies him, lingering on his just slightly parted lips. His cheeks are still flushed, so Sakura slides a palm under his raven bangs to feel his forehead. No fever, she confirms with relief. The alcohol must have finally got to him. She starts to pull her hand away, but her fingers trail down to his high cheek bone where they sit hesitantly. Sasuke had really been about to kiss her.

She melts into a wide smile at the thought. Leaning in, she brings her other palm to his face, cradling his sleeping attractive features. Slowly, carefully, she presses soft lips against his.

Sakura wants to laugh at the absurdity of the entire night; at the great Uchiha falling on his face, tumbling down the steps, falling into a tub, drinking mouthwash... but she can’t help but only love him more. Because, as it seems, the Uchiha is not always the perfect prodigy; his mask slips every once in a while, just like everyone else. Sasuke Uchiha makes silly mistakes, just like everyone else. Sasuke Uchiha can be reckless, just like everyone else.

And, as Sakura inches back from his lips to admire his undisturbed expression, she realizes with a giggle that Sasuke Uchiha is, after all, only human.

FIN.

#sasusaku #sasuke x sakura #fanfiction #drunk #headcanon #naruto #prosasusaku #ff.net #fan fiction

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musikat18 · 5 years ago

Note

Do the dumbass brigade celebrate Halloween? How would they celebrate it? I feel like Ray is definitely the costume type and so is Clark? ( but would they just wear the atom and Superman suits?) Is Lucifer the Halloween type? Is John Constantine or Harry Wells? They don't strike me as the costume type. You'd probably have to persuade them into any plans you had. What do you think?

I’m gonna talk about the five you mentioned here b/c the Dumbass Brigade is...rapidly expanding *sweats*

I’ll post a Dumbass Roster in a minute that I can keep updated for y’all

Ray Palmer: Ray has accepted at this point that not a lot of people know who The Atom is, but you know what he does love? Couples’ costumes! You and him alternate between picking themes— his favorite was when you two did Han and Leia, but he thought Kara’s face the year you suggested Clark and Lois was REMARKABLE.

Clark Kent: Every year, Clark tries to make a pumpkin roll with marshmallow spiderwebbing and chocolate drizzle, just like Ma did. Every year you have to call the fire department. Every year you buy a pack of spooky cupcakes before you go home. But he loves passing out candy more than anything and gets adorably excited when he sees a Superman costume.

Lucifer Morningstar: Lucifer likes the costumes, not so much the children. He’s house-sat for Chloe while she and Maze take Trixie around before and even though it’s a pain in the ass and you know he thinks it’s a pain in the ass he always volunteers. He, however, will not wear a horn headband if you buy him one because “it’s demeaning,” said the ancient being who constantly makes devil puns and jokes.

John Constantine: Johnny HATES Halloween. People do dumb shit and he has to clean up too many demonic and paranormal messes, he just wants the whole thing gone. He will, however, concede to a night of candy, booze, Halloween movies, and possibly sex.

Harry Wells: Harry isn’t super-festive, but he doesn’t hate Halloween. He’ll pass candy out and wear a funny accessory and, maybe, if he’s in the mood, go hang out with Team Flash if they’re doing anything. One tradition he always keeps is watching Hocus Pocus with Jesse as soon as the moon rises.

(Spooky Friday!)

#musikat speaks #ask musikat #ask me anything #spooky friday #dumbass brigade #shrinky puppy #super puppy #hell puppy #magical alley cat #emotional support bastard #food mention

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sweetheartjeongguk · 6 years ago

Text

pretty kitty 3 (m)

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: hybrid au, camgirl au, fluff, smut

rating: nc-17

warning(s): drunk sex, impregnation kink, daddy kink, mentions of drugs and alcohol, taehyung and oc having the feels

word count: 6.6k+

summary: you’re both jagged pieces of a puzzle, but you fit rather nicely together.

the discovery | the denial | the meeting | the aftermath | the payback

masterlist

“You tired already?”

You huff out an annoyed breath. “Easy for you to say. You just stick your dick in while I gotta deal with your sweaty body on top of me. It’s like Niagara Falls every time you top.”

Seojoon clutches at his chest in offense. “How dare you? First of all, might I remind you that I made you that spicy ramen last night even though we all know it starts World War III in your guts and you were stuck on the toilet for an hour crying over your ‘ruined asshole’?”

“Why, you little—”

You launch a pillow at his face, but unfortunately for you, his reflexes as a panther hybrid allow him to easily avoid your attempted assault.

“Anyways, I gotta get going.” Seojoon sighs in fake disappointment. “Hyungsik wanted to binge-watch My Hero Academia with me, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since I accidentally watched the season already.”

“Yikes, good luck dealing with that mess.”

You never really liked Hyungsik, and you’re 99.9% certain that the feeling’s mutual. Just something about him strikes a wrong chord with you, but Seojoon shrugs this off as irrational paranoia. Unwilling to argue with your friend, you force yourself to muster up the brightest phony smile whenever you stop by their apartment to hang out or drop something off.

“See you tomorrow!” He shouts as he escapes through the front door after slipping his clothes back on. “Great work today as always! Don’t forget my money, bitch!”

“Love you too, jackass.” You grumble as you lay in a starfish position on your mattress.

The livestream ended an hour ago, but Seojoon stayed to help you clean up and recuperate after the camming session. While he’s a dumbass half the time, you admire him for his consistent attitude for quality aftercare, even after the most vanilla of encounters. This particular session gained you a hundred more viewers and a decent amount of money for you to share with. If your elementary school-level calculations serve you well, the night’s earnings combined with your last solo stream are enough to cover textbook costs and the money you owe Seojoon for the time you overflowed his toilet after trying to flush his toothbrush down after accidentally flinging it inside and wanting to “destroy the evidence” before Seojoon came home.

Your next defense was to blame it on Hyungsik, but he didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.

As recompense for your so-called “crime against humanity”, you offered a substantial portion of your earnings if he helped with filming. Sex came natural to the both of you, lacking the expectation of blatant resistance when you first brought up the idea. Casual sex with a trustworthy friend while making a couple hundred bucks every five minutes? Seojoon couldn’t find any fault with that.

After all, you sucked him off in a frat house bathroom just an hour after you two were officially introduced.

You stretch out across the bed with a wince. Maybe you’ll invest an hour-long massage once your money gets transferred to your account. Better yet, you’ll force Seojoon to pay for it since this is his fault in the beginning. The man’s built like a god but fucks like the devil.

When you unlock the screen of your cell phone, you’re bombarded with the sight of multiple texts from Seulgi and an email about your Music 101 class being cancelled on Monday. After browsing through bland Instagram stories, you finally decide to appease the witch in your inbox.

Right off the bat, you regret opening up the message.

BITCH YOU BETTER ANSWER ME BEFORE I COME OVER AND TELL SEOJOON ABOUT UR CRUSTY VAGINA PROBLEMS.

You’ve had plenty of experiences with Seulgi barging in during your not-so PG moments and having her fall into an exaggerated spiel that has your partners running out of your dorm in record time. You’d be a fool to fall into her hands again so with a heavy heart, your thumbs type out your response.

yes ur majesty??

Not even five seconds later, your phone beeps with a new message.

wOW look whos here, puss in boots has finally blessed me with her appearance.

Before you can type back your offended retort, you’re blasted with the annoying Facetime ringtone. With a sigh and silent prayer to whatever higher power is up there, you accept the call.

“I almost thought the dick went to your head and not your vagina.” Seulgi snorts when your less than glamorous face comes into view on her screen. “How was your dick appointment, sunshine?”

“I’m doing fine, thanks for asking appropriately.” You flash her an unimpressed stare. “I made over $5k tonight so cancel your plans for tomorrow. We’re going shopping at the outlet tomorrow!”

“Okay, Little Miss Fancy.” Seulgi wiggles her eyebrows in approval. “Just in time too. There’s going to be a party at Jennie and Jisoo’s this weekend, and I’m trying to get dicked down before I’m forced to graduate with cobwebs on my clit.”

“Okay, first of all…I’m not even going to ask.” You shudder in disgust. “Second of all, don’t you have your project due the day after? Might I remind you of what happened last time?”

Seulgi blanches white. “Please don’t. I’d rather not remember that when there’s a dick in my mouth.”

You hold your free hand up in surrender. “Alright then, your problem. Just so you know, I think that you should have started that project months ago.”

“And I think that I should be married to Gong Yoo with two beautiful children, but we don’t always get everything we want.” Seulgi harrumphs. “Anyways, don’t be a party pooper. Who knows, maybe you’ll find Sugar Daddy Number 163 there?”

“My finger is literally hovering over the end call button as we speak.”

“Do it, bitch. I’ll throw away that catnip that you think I don’t know about in the secret drawer inside your closet.”

“That is low, Kang, that is just low.”

“Hey, there’s a party at Jennie’s this weekend? You down?” Jimin calls from the couch as he scrolls through the influx of messages in his dance class group chat.

Taehyung is fully immersed in washing the pile of dishes in the sink that he almost doesn’t catch Jimin’s voice over the running faucet. When he contemplates this in his head, he just shrugs indifferently.

“I don’t know, I’m not really friends with her.”

“She’s cool, man. The rest of us are going too anyway, so it’s not like you’re going to be by yourself.” Jimin points out.

“Knowing you all, you’re going to be dragged off into a game of beer pong against Jungkook or caught up in some random hook-up in a closet somewhere, Namjoon’s going to get himself stuck in another piece of furniture again, and Jin and Yoongi are going to make another stupid bet that’s going to get Jin stuck in jail again.”

“What about Hoseok?”

“He gets red after two sips.” Taehyung scoffs. “The most I had to do was stop him from calling his parents to apologize for drinking and never calling enough. He’s the least of our worries.”

“You might find someone to spend the night with?” Jimin singsongs. “Get your dick wet after all these months of being a loser and staying home jerking off to porn?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Staying home doesn’t make someone a loser.”

“That’s something a loser who stays at home jerking off to porn would say.”

Taehyung sighs up at the ceiling, hands soaked and wrinkled from the soapy water. “I don’t even know why I try at this point.”

“Just think about it.” Jimin stands to grab his jacket hanging off the side of the couch. “You might be pleasantly surprised.”

“Highly doubt it, but thanks for the advice.” Taehyung actively avoids the flick of Jimin’s middle finger as the latter leaves to head back to his own dorm.

Once he’s finally alone, Taehyung takes a moment to actually think about Jimin’s proposal. If he does go to the party, there’s a 50-50 chance of him getting lucky with some hot stranger desperate for a random dick for the night or him returning home with six (or five, depending on Seokjin’s law-breaking kink) drunken idiots.

His Plan B (B standing for “Better Option”) would be to just forget about the party and stay home where he can happily jerk off to porn while digging into a huge bag of Hot Cheetos. Thankfully, he’s learned his lesson on how to jerk off without accidentally using the Hot Cheeto hand.

Taehyung had the case of spicy dick for a good five hours until Jimin came over to check up on him. However, the only thing Jimin could do was fall back in crazed laughter and snap a Polaroid of Taehyung’s distressed tears from his Cheeto dick.

Maybe the party idea isn’t sounding too bad after all.

You fidget uncomfortably in your seat as you adjust your too-tight top. You had forced yourself to sit through an entire styling process from Seulgi who decided that you needed a little more “oomph” in your appearance.

In the words of Kang Seulgi, “God, Y/N, you’re a popular camgirl known for her sexual appeal, and yet you continue to dress like a middle-aged librarian mixed with Maria from the Sound of Music.”

You couldn’t help but shrink back in offense – your wardrobe isn’t that terrible. Sure, you wear too many casual clothes, and the only time you wear expensive lingerie or anything remotely “sexy” is when you go on camera, wearing the gifts given to you by loyal viewers.

Regardless, you let Seulgi work her magic in the brief time you had to yourself before Ji-Eun arrived to drive the three of you to the party.

Seulgi passionately performs a mini concert in the backseat with her own rendition of “God is a Woman” while Ji-Eun boils in the driver’s seat, her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. You don’t know which is worst at this point.

“God, will this car go any fucking slower?” She grits her teeth as another person honks their horn at Ji-Eun to let them through. “Why do they have to live so far away in the ass crack of nowhere?”

“They’re only 15 minutes away from us…”

“You better watch your mouth, Kang, or else you’re walking home.” Ji-Eun scowls into the rearview mirror.

Seulgi slouches back in her seat, no longer feeling the need to belt out the last notes of the song as it comes to an end. Angry Ji-Eun’s a side to the usually cherubic Ji-Eun that should never see the light of day no matter the circumstances. You busy yourself by scrolling through your Instagram feed, liking a couple pictures from your friends back home and laughing silently at some random dog videos that pop up in-between. Your scrolling comes to a halt, your thumb hovering hesitantly above the heart button of a certain photo.

If it wasn’t for the owner of the account, you would have found the courage to double-tap.

“Oh, isn’t that Kim Taehyung?”

“It is…” You mutter quietly, ignoring the close presence of Seulgi’s face near yours.

You’re desperate to scroll past, but Seulgi reaches her hand out to hold your phone.

“You should go for him, Y/N!” Ji-Eun whistles when she catches the picture of his selfie from the corner of her eye. “I heard he and Sooyoung already broke up, so you got a shot.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up in a half-assed smile. As if.

“They broke up already?” Seulgi asks curiously as she hands you back your phone. “I could have sworn that they were messing around together a couple weeks ago.”

There goes your fleeting moment of happiness.

“They weren’t really a thing, I’m pretty sure.” Ji-Eun pauses in thought. “They hooked up a couple times, but I think they’re just friends or at least just in the same friend group.”

You silently stew in your seat, clicking out of the app and locking your phone. Thanks to Seulgi, you’re aching to burn the image of Sooyoung wrapped around Taehyung from your brain. Not that you’re jealous, of course.

Ji-Eun sighs in relief as the sight of the house comes into view. After parking precariously on the side of the street, Seulgi rushes your trio inside and through the living room teeming with drunk college students and into the kitchen to grab the first drinks of the night. You twitch your nose at the stench of musky cologne, hormones, and hard liquor intermingling as you approach the bartender of the night who just so happens to be Seojoon.

“Hey guys!” Seojoon chimes as he finishes up mixing Hyungsik’s drink who stands cross-armed against the wall with a look of boredom directed at the three of you, mostly at you. “I was wondering when you’d be getting here.”

“When did you get here?” You greet him with a short side-hug, stopping to glare at him until his traveling palm averts its course from your ass.

“Hyungsik and I got here beforehand to help set up.” Seojoon nods towards the brooding man in the corner. “Jisoo stuck me with this job, and now I can’t leave until the party’s over or at least until I’m forced to go out to buy more alcohol for these heathens.”

You scrunch your nose in annoyance. “That doesn’t sound fun. Why can’t they do it themselves?”

Seojoon clears his throat. “I quote, ‘because getting dicked down by the hottest guy in the room is the main priority of the night’.”

“Hear, hear.” Seulgi nods distractedly.

You smack your hand against her bicep. “Can’t you think without your genitals for a second?”

“Y/N…sweetheart.” Seulgi pats your cheek as if you’re an innocent child. “You must not know me at all.”

“Nevertheless, ladies, please enjoy the party.” Seojoon pulls you back before you can take a swipe at your best friend. “Y/N, I’ll be seeing you later.”

Seojoon clicks his tongue suggestively, reveling in your eyeroll and not-so discreet middle finger. After grabbing your drinks, the three of you head towards an empty corner of the room, away from the concentrated cloud of marijuana and crusty men who crave a quick grope.

“Dang, was the dick that bad?” Seulgi scoffs jokingly. “Maybe if you’re not interested, you can spare a little bite...”

“Wait, since when you and Seojoon a thing?” Ji-Eun’s eyes widen.

You subtly glare at Seulgi’s apparent struggle to hold back her knowing laughter before turning to answer Ji-Eun with the most innocent look imaginable.

“I don’t know where Seulgi gets her delusions.” You smile through gritted teeth. “Seojoon and I hanging out from time to time does not equate to us fucking.”

Seulgi lets out a snort. “Something smells fishy…I think it’s your va—"

She squeaks in pain when she feels the stab of your heel into her foot. The music drowns out most of her cries of distress which Ji-Eun fails to notice. She takes a large gulp of her drink, grimacing at the strong aftertaste of the mostly-vodka mixture.

“God, I want to sue Seojoon for making us this terrible drink.” Ji-Eun stares at the cup with utter hatred in her eyes. “Seriously, it tastes like straight-up ass paired with off brand Caprisun.”

“I second that notion.” You swallow back a gag as the concoction slips uneasily down your throat.

“Me three.” Seulgi grimaces but forces herself to finish the content. “I’m undoubtedly puking later, so I’m going to go off and find some nice dick before that happens. Tootles!”

You silently devise a plan involving bear traps and superglue as you threaten to bore a hole through the back of Seulgi’s head with a scorching glower as she blends into the crowd in search of her next friend with benefits, leaving you to deal with the most infamous lightweight of your friend group.

“You okay?” Ji-Eun questions curiously.

“I’m fucking fantastic.”

“Y/N, I love you.” You remain stone-faced as the drunk girl leans against you with her entire weight. “You’re always so good to me, and I love you for that. I’ll make it my mission in life to help you find a boyfriend, okay?”

Her arms are like spaghetti, and her knees knock together in an attempt to keep straight. The cup once clutched in her hands is now dumped in a random corner of the kitchen, but you shrug it off as Seojoon’s responsibility. He did make you terrible alcohol after all.

“Hyung, n-no, I’m not d-drunk.”

You momentarily glance up at the voice, suddenly blanking out at the figures slowly approaching your corner of the room.

“Oh God, please turn around, please turn around.” You desperately pray as they inch closer.

Much like your situation, Taehyung struggles to hold his unmistakably intoxicated friend – Jungkook or something along those lines – in an upright position. He mutters angry words that were inaudible to you into Jungkook’s ear, but the boy keeps trying to shove Taehyung away.

“I w-wanna go party-y!” He hiccups. “They’re p-playing beer p-pong without me.”

Jungkook twists his body to make a run for the living room, but his own clumsy feet send him back to square one in his friend’s arms. You can see Taehyung roll his eyes as he hauls Jungkook’s heavy body towards the row of chairs where you’re forced into cuddling an equally drunk Ji-Eun.

Taehyung fails to recognize you until your uncomfortable shifting in your chair lets out a shrill squeak. When his gaze settles on you, you notice that his entire body freezes. Heat rushes to your body as his eyes trail over you in a bizarre manner – almost as if he’s scanning you to make sure that you’re actually there and not just a figment of his imagination.

Before you can muster up the courage to utter one phrase to the boy, he turns to the side to tend to Jungkook who’s stuck mumbling and drooling, much like a newborn baby. There’s an itch in the pit of your stomach that begins to bother you more than you’d expected it to. You feel an obligation to say something over to Taehyung – at least something along the lines of “Drunk friends, am I right?” – but you decide to push aside whatever tempts you to say something.

Between the choices of not saying anything and not having Taehyung know who you are or uttering your sentence and making a complete fool of yourself, you’d prefer the latter by a long shot.

“Um…is she okay?”

Your head shoots up in surprise. Taehyung allows his friend to lay on his side across the row of chairs, taking up the entire space while he’s forced to cram his body onto the tiny chair a seat away. Your gaze trickles down to Ji-Eun who mirrors Jungkook perfectly, completely passed out and drooling away on your lap like there’s no tomorrow.

“She will be.” You abruptly clear your throat. “She’s always like this at parties, so it’s nothing new.”

Taehyung nods in agreement. “Same, I’m always stuck watching over all my friends which is why I didn’t really want to go to this party in the first place.”

“Ugh, same!” You groan as you cradle your forehead with a palm. “My friend Seulgi’s no help either. She’s probably off choking on dick in one of the guest rooms right now while I’m stuck here on babysitter duty for someone older than me, for fuck’s sake.”

When Taehyung answers with an awkward cough, you’re hit with the sudden realization that maybe you shouldn’t be so open with a complete stranger, even if that stranger is Kim Taehyung who you’ve had a crush on for years now.

Just a thought.

“Sorry…” You force out a laugh, sounding uncannily like a robot. “You probably don’t want to hear about that.”

“No worries.” Taehyung shakes his head. “My friend Jimin’s the same way. In fact, I think that’s them over there.”

You squint your eyes in the direction that Taehyung points towards. When you finally catch onto the sight, you instantly wish you hadn’t.

There, practically undressing each other in the middle of the dance floor with their tongues curled one another, is Seulgi and Jimin.

“Yup, time for me to burn my eyeballs.”

Taehyung giggles at the horror in your eyes, throwing you overboard into a sea of useless emotions. The worst part of it is that he’s not even trying – that’s just how he is.

‘Ugh, pretty boys.’

“You’re telling me.” Taehyung cringes. “But that’s not the worst situation I’ve caught Jimin in, so I guess we’re spared this time.”

“H-hey.” A voice hiccups from below.

You both direct your attention to Jungkook who points a shaky finger towards you.

“You l-look familiar…” The boy slurs. “Have I seen you before?”

“Nope.” You answer with a shrug. “School, perhaps?”

“N-no.” He hiccups again. “Are you a Y-Youtuber?”

‘Not exactly, kiddo.’

Instead, you reply with another shake of your head. He opens his mouth as if to ask another question, but even uttering a complete sentence proves too difficult a task for Jungkook to complete. With a slurred humph, he slumps against the row of chairs again with his head resting on Taehyung’s right thigh.

“Sorry about him.” Taehyung mutters apologetically. “He rarely drinks, but when he does, this happens.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You smile politely. “That makes two of us.”

Five minutes into a conversation with Taehyung, and you’re scared of falling back into the dreaded Awkward Silence. If only Seulgi was here to save you, but she’s probably too busy giving Park Jimin the suck of a lifetime while you’re floundering to save your conversation with the cutest boy in school.

You’re suddenly thrown back into the image of you as a shy middle schooler, silently crushing on the cheery tiger hybrid in Mrs. Lee’s classroom across the hall. Those were the days before you discovered the wonders of makeup and Moroccan oil and when you would sit in the corner of the lunchroom with your eyes glued on a certain boxy smile as he laughs with his best friends and the rest of the popular kids. The lasting memory of you in his mind was probably the Kindergarten Incident with you crying on the playground after your mother dropped you off in the morning. You long to change his perception and show him who you are now, flaws and all, but you have no idea where to begin.

Curse you and your inability to socialize.

You take your time scanning through the room for a potential lifesaver or topic to blab about to make yourself look semi-interesting to Taehyung. You go to blow away a strand of hair that falls into your vision, unaware of the pair of eyes watching you softly.

Taehyung holds back the urge to brush the troublesome strand from your skin and place a gentle kiss where it used to lay.

“Hey, do you…” Taehyung choking on his words cause you to turn towards him with a raised eyebrow.

“Do I…” You trail off.

Taehyung pales as he forces the words from his mouth in an awkward splurge of word vomit.

‘It’s now or never, Kim.’

“Doyoumaybewanttogohavesomefunonourown?”

Taehyung could almost die at your stoic appearance. Nothing in your eyes or your smile (lack thereof) gives him any clue into the thoughts churning around your brain. Just as he’s ready to give up and find an excuse to escape with a sloppy Jungkook in tow, you begin to giggle.

Now, Taehyung’s 99.9% sure he’s about to die.

A smile plays at the side of your lip. “Alright, Kim. I second that notion. But first, let’s go find some beds for these guys first.”

It takes you roughly 10 minutes to scour the house for either Jennie or Jisoo, eventually finding the latter hanging around the poolside with Soyeon and Chaeyoung. You thank a higher power for the Kim girls’ wealth from part-time modeling that allows them to buy a house with more than one guest room. After accidentally opening up occupied rooms and getting more than a couple dick flashes, Taehyung and you finally find two empty rooms that are decently far away from the loud chattering and music blaring throughout the house. Quickly, you plop Ji-Eun down onto the soft comforter of the bed and turn her on her side, shoving a trashcan beside the bed just in case that night’s menu decides to make an appearance when she wakes up.

“All set?” Taehyung asks, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. You brush it off as wishful thinking.

“We’re finally free.” You beam with a wide grin.

Taehyung sends you a soft smile before grabbing your wrist to pull you downstairs and into the kitchen for drinks. Seojoon eyes you carefully as you approach, curious as to your sudden acquaintance with Mr. Kim Taehyung. He knows a little bit about your not-so-little crush but holds back his questions for another time; however, it’s completely obvious that he’s holding back from making a crude sex joke in front of the two of you.

“Enjoy, you crazy kids.” Seojoon winks, sending a flood of embarrassment to your cheeks.

Taehyung eyes Seojoon with a subtle glare, one that you barely notice but one that Seojoon senses immediately. You’re none the wisest towards the display of dominance, but Seojoon notices it all – from the way Taehyung subtly puffs up his chest to the growing feral glint in his eyes.

“Kiss my ass, Park.” You hiss when you snatch the cups away from Seojoon’s fingers.

“Gladly, sweetheart.” Seojoon purrs back without missing a beat.

It takes all of Taehyung’s inner strength to force his irritation down to an unnoticeable level of annoyance. Even then, his bad mood is still visible to anyone who dares to look closer. After grabbing your drinks from an amused Seojoon, you begin to guide Taehyung out of the kitchen to head back upstairs.

With your back turned, Taehyung chances a dangerous snarl at Seojoon. The older raises a hand up in surrender, but the aggression does nothing to deter Seojoon. If anything, it just makes him even more pleased than before.

Oh, how he can’t wait until you finally become a couple.

“Sorry about him.” You apologize meekly as you two head onto the balcony connected to an empty guest room in the farthest part of the house. “Seojoon can be a little annoying when you first meet him, but he’s actually not that bad.”

“Ha, you’re telling me.” Taehyung mutters annoyedly.

Before you can question Taehyung’s irritation, he’s already chugging half the cup’s contents down his throat. You hold back your disgust for the taste as you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps and gulp down the fiery alcohol. You’ve already developed a small buzz from your first round of drinks, but you feel yourself slip into a more relaxed state with your second.

“So, Miss Y/N…” You lazily turn your head. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

The two of you rest your elbows on top of the balcony railing, inviting the cool autumn breeze to blow across your skin and through your hair with a gentle caress. The party music is muffled behind the glass door of the balcony, but you can still feel the bass thumping within your chest. You hum for a moment as you rack your brain for something, anything interesting to say.

“There’s not really that much about me.” You shrug. “I’ve lived here most of my life, and I plan on leaving once school’s over to explore the rest of the world. My two best friends are Seulgi and Ji-Eun, just not tonight...and that’s all to me really. I guess I’m just an open book with a little too many blank pages in-between.”

Taehyung nudges his elbow to your side. “Ah, there’s more to you than that. Surely, you like to do fun things. Unless you’re one of those boring people whose favorite show is Jeopardy and likes to go to the mall just to walk around.”

“Hey, Jeopardy is a great show, Mr. I-Have-The-Mental-Capacity-Of-A-Walnut.” You retort jokingly.

Taehyung laughs wholeheartedly at your teasing jab. “Okay then, fair enough. I’ll take your word for it.”

The moon beams down on your figures as you continue to chatter about random topics and sip on your disgusting drinks with only a small grimace. Little by little, you learn more about Taehyung’s passions in life and what he wants to do after graduation while he learns more about your friendships with Seulgi and Ji-Eun and all the horror stories from freshman year. You share giggles and playful nudges as if you’ve been friends for decades.

Every sip from your cup sends a tingly buzz that fills you from your head down to the tips of your toes. Your bright eyes grow lazy with a familiar drunken glaze, and you find yourself leaning a little closer into Taehyung’s side.

It’s when you finally make eye contact with Taehyung that he makes the first move.

Your bodies move in an almost fluid yet messy choreography, your lips latching onto one another in utter desperation. Taehyung quickly parts your mouth with his tongue to finally taste the hidden sweetness hidden within. His large, veiny hands slip down from the sides of your face to clutch your hips against his body, forcing your hands to rest against his broad chest.

“Want to go inside?” He pants when you eventually separate for a breath.

“Please.” You whine urgently.

You squeak in surprise as he grips your body with one arm while the other slams open the balcony door leading into the guest room. In a blink of an eye, Taehyung drops you onto the comforter and frantically suctions his lips to your jawline, creating soft marks on your supple skin and kneading the soft flesh near your inner thighs. You bite back a moan as his lips trail down your neck and towards the cleavage of your top.

“Take this fucking thing off.”

Without missing a beat, he rips your top over your head and returns his mouth to the valley between your breasts. Taehyung’s pleasantly surprised at your braless form, and he can’t help but brush a thumb across before replacing it with his tongue.

“T-Tae…” You sigh airily as he circles around your nipple, drawing them to a hardened peak and leaving thin traces of saliva on your skin. “P-Please.”

“Relax.” He coos into your ear. “This is all for you. You just lay back and enjoy it, my little kitten.”

“I’ll enjoy it once you’re inside of me already.” You whisper coyly, your hands tracing down the curve of his spine and down towards his ass. “I want you to fill my pretty pussy up with your come already.”

With one look into his frenzied pupils, you shrink into yourself as though you’re some meager prey hybrid with a bloodthirsty predator chasing after you.

Oh, how you love it.

He peppers a series of small kisses down your stomach, his movements slower than before. He wants to make you feel as frustrated as he does whenever he watches your videos and yearns to reach through the screen to feel your body against his.

However, with the real thing’s in front of him, his biological urge to mount you and pump you full of his kittens starts to overpower his original plans of taking things slow.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby.” Taehyung groans as your excitement seeps through the fabric of your jeans. “I can’t wait to taste this sweet little pussy. My little kitten’s been waiting so long for me.”

Your muddled thoughts fail to form into coherent words as Taehyung’s tongue slides across from the top of your pelvis and down towards your core drenched in your excitement. He relishes in your whiny moans at the ticklish flicks he gives your swollen clit, noting cockily how your nails grasp at the bedsheets with reckless abandon and how your toes curl in delight at the warmth filling your bloodstream.

“Are you all wet just for me, kitten?” Taehyung murmurs, cheeks completely soaked from your excitement. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

“Y-Yes, I’m all wet just f-for you, baby.” You whimper as his tongue licks larger stripes against you. “P-Please, Tae, I want you.”

“Want me where?” Teasing you is quickly becoming his new favorite pastime.

“I-Inside. Please, I want to feel all of you.”

“Isn’t that a little too easy?” Taehyung clicks his tongue as he wipes away the excess slick from his chin.

He holds in his shudder when you pull his hand towards you to envelope the come-stained fingers inside your mouth, moaning in delight as you taste yourself.

“I-I think I n-need something in return before your little pussy can earn its treat.”

Taehyung is quick to unbutton his jeans and shrug them along with his boxers onto the bedroom floor. The tip of his cock drips small strings of pre-come onto the sheets, reddened and sensitive to the touch. You quickly discover this when your small fingers reach forward to briefly tease around the head with the pad of your thumb.

“Open up, sweetheart.” Taehyung bites down onto his lip as he guides the first two inches inside your awaiting mouth.

You moan at the salty taste that you’ve grown to love that coats your tongue, sucking lightly for the first few seconds before hollowing your cheeks and applying more pressure with every stroke. Taehyung hisses as your mouth sinks even deeper, nearly driving the head into the back of your throat.

“You’re so good to me, huh?” Taehyung lets out a low moan when he feels you hum in agreement, sending vibrations across the sensitive head of his cock. “Does my baby deserve to be fucked now?”

Your watery eyes connect with Taehyung’s as you choke on the smooth length. Suddenly, you feel miniscule and powerless underneath his lustful gaze, but you welcome the degradation wholeheartedly.

“Turn around, baby.” Taehyung grunts as he slips himself from your mouth. “I want to see your tight little ass when I fuck this little pussy open.”

He props you up on your elbows with your back arched as far as you can go. There’s a slight pressure in your lower back as you present yourself to him, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the uncontrollable need to finally be fucked by Taehyung. He admires the sight of your awaiting pussy, completely soaked with your come and swollen from his relentless ministrations on your sensitive bud.

You draw out a long mewl when you feel the tip nudge your seam before pushing inside, clenching hard as he continues to bottom out.

Oh, how he loves it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Taehyung chuckles lowly as he begins a steady yet hard-hitting pace. “You’re making Daddy proud. His kitten’s taking his cock so well, don’t you agree?”

You smother your face into a pillow to muffle your cries, not wanting someone barging in during the fuck of your lifetime. With every hard thrust, your pussy sucks him back inside with a lewd squelch, desperate to hold him there whenever he tries to retract. His fingers are sure to leave marks on your skin in the morning from the way he’s grasping your hips for dear life. .

You fuck yourself almost every week, and yet you’re still the tiniest hole Taehyung’s ever had the pleasure of fucking. It entices him to continue his thrusts, in hopes of absolutely ruining you and filling you to the brim with his seed. His mind floods with images of you overflowing with come, carrying his potential kittens deep within and yet, still demanding for more.

This daydream alone has Taehyung stuttering in his movements and nearly blowing his load before you can squeeze around him in your own mind-melting pleasure. You have to come first, and Taehyung would be damned if he ruins that for you by acting like a pubescent boy who came in less than a minute to his very first porn video.

“Taehyung…” You cry pathetically. “T-Touch me.”

He’s quick to follow your orders, rubbing at the bundle of nerves between your legs with two wet fingertips and earning a sharp “F-fuck, Daddy!” in response. Your body threatens to curl inward, and you force yourself to grip onto the pillowcase instead of onto Taehyung’s thigh to force him to fuck you even harder.

He wants to feel you absolutely fall apart with his cock splitting you open – and fall apart, you do.

A surprised hiss escapes the tiger hybrid as you spasm underneath his body, your euphoric release dribbling onto the sheets below. Your claws that unsheathed a second before your orgasm have shredded through a good portion of the pillowcase you buried your face into. It’s not long until Taehyung’s hips lose their rhythm and suddenly, you’re filled with copious amounts of his warm seed.

All for you.

“F-fuck, kitten, you made Daddy come so much.” He admires the sight of your completely battered pussy as he goes to pull out, stuffed to the brim with his seed that slowly starts dripping out. “Stuffed full of Daddy’s kittens. Such a good girl.”

You sigh in relaxed pleasure as he starts cleaning around your entrance with a skilled tongue, a strong hand massaging each cheek. There’s something satisfying about the fact that Taehyung’s tasting himself which seduces you into pushing through the overstimulation by twisting your hips in tight circles to aid him in his taste test.

“You little—” He laughs as he lands a light smack to an ass cheek. He groans internally at how it jiggles under the force, drawing a tiny moan from you and a string of come that seeps from your used pussy and down your thighs.

Before he can treat himself to another taste, you flip over and grab at his neck. “My turn.”

Taehyung nearly falls forward on his face when you connect your lips together, your tongue sliding through for a mixture of your releases. They’re still both salty and bitter on your palate, but you’ve gotten used to the taste by now. If anything, Taehyung makes it taste even better.

As you sink further into the mattress deep in the kiss, Taehyung lifts himself up to pull you onto your side. You let out a tiny squeal at the sudden shift in position, especially when his lips tickle the crook of your neck with a trail of wet kisses.

“Now, sleep.” Taehyung kisses your cheek before nuzzling his face into the back of your neck.

“Weirdo.” You purr groggily before succumbing to the inevitable fatigue that seeps into your bones and muscles.

Once you’re deep in sleep, Taehyung leans closer for a better glimpse of your face. Your skin’s still flushed red and sweaty, but you still look like an angel in Taehyung’s eyes. The entire room smells of come and sweat, but he can still sense your unique sweet scent of your skin, and it pains him to hold himself back from tasting some more. The stress that wrinkles your brow is smoothed out and replaced with a peaceful expression, one he sees quite often during your streams after you finally fall back down from your high.

Taehyung is finally brought back to reality when his ears pick up incessant cheering from drunk patrons outside by the poolside accompanied by loud EDM blaring from the outdoor speakers. He ignores them all with an exasperated wrinkle of the nose, and instead he chooses to savor in the warmth radiating from your body that just so happens to fit perfectly against his own – just like pieces of a jagged puzzle.

Taehyung smiles. You’re finally in his arms, and he doesn’t want to let go.

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ts-2020-olympics · 5 years ago

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EPISODE 4 - "Tribe Swap and TBH This Couldn’t Have Gone Any Better” - Pete

Tribe swap anyone? So right off the bat, I see that Jacob C. is the tribe captain. I immediately go to him and ask him to pick me for his tribe, so that I can pick Sammy and Sammy can pick Kevin and Kevin can pick a newbie and that newbie will pick a newbie and then that newbie will pick a newbie. GUESS WHAT? It worked!!! We did exactly that, and with all of us working together to build the tribe I think I realized I can trust them for now. I still know that Sammy has an idol, and so that’s useful information. Eventually we are gonna need to get him to drain it but I think maybe it’s gone now, if he could only use it for a few rounds. That’s also probably just what he wants us to think. I also hit a bump in the road with the information I’m holding. I’m trying to play this game very game-focused and not my usual hehe social game is gonna get me there way, even though in this cast...they really don’t care so maybe social would be the way to approach it. Either way, I ended up telling Kevin what I said about Beck in my last video confessional (I know you didn’t watch it so I’ll summarize; beck wanted to exclude kevin from an alliance that was Kevin’s idea). My only regret is that it might have been too soon to plant any seeds of doubt with Kevin about Beck, and that I might be getting played by both of them. But, on the other hand maybe it was the perfect time? We are going to merge....a long time from now. Like a super super long time from now. But, I don’t know I think telling him initiates a trust between us that I don’t have with the other people in this game. I’d really like to go to the end with Jacob C and maybe a random newbie. It just feels so far out of reach at this point, theres literally like...at least 7 more premerge boots and I really hate that. I despise big casts, and especially with this twist because there’s so much time in the middle of the round where everyone is just kind of like...sitting. And I don’t do well in those types of situations. So, it’s feeling bleak right now BUT if I do make it to merge, I’ll be very happy and then if I do make it to FTC I’ll be very happy and then if I don’t win, that’s to be expected and the usual state of what happens.

This tribe has my 2 "enemies". I don't trust either, I just tried to vote out Billy again too so that's cool. I'm going to go ahead and make friends with Jordan and stoner since they are loners, and we just need one more on top of that to make a new happy family. The thing with voting me out is, when you get me going, I will demolish the game, and given I'm a lot more comfortable in a tribe of 7, it shouldn't be that hard. Taking full control premerge is one of my favorite things to do, but you need a clear cut enemy to do it effectively. I have that enemy, no one else does. Let's see what we can do here.

Alright, so here's the ordeal. First off, Bailey got medically evacuated due to getting three strikes (which might have stated this already in past confessional, but whatever,) and secondly, Will lost out at arena, also getting the eliminated slot. That left 21 people, and as my suspicions were, I expected a swap to occur, and that one did. Went in expecting probably wouldn't be one of the first round picks, but ended up getting picked on tribe quicker than I anticipated. Anyways, I am now on a tribe with Beck, Ben, Caeleb, Juls, Karen and Tommy. I just couldn't be more happier to be with more active people on a tribe, instead of there just being myself and two others active on my original tribe. Now, time to hope this new tribe can end the Yushu losing streak and come out as the sole immunity winner with today's challenge. Then, finally, in regards to the Olympic Village, four times now where I have found nothing, but I went down each end of the village, so I at least now have some sort of insight to all the paths I can take in future village searching rounds.

HELL FUCKIN YEEAAAHH TRIBE SWAP!! and tbh this couldn’t have gone any better I think. I’ve got jacob c, eve, and sammy here and if we all vote together then that’s enough to be safe. I’m also maybe forming a bond with Landen cus they seem pretty cool and maybe I might be able to land a good social position in this tribe??? Hopefully someone secretly hates somebody so i can jump on that shit to keep me safe

okay so i’m sucking ass at this maverick bird game and i’ve only really performed well in one challenge ever so i’m in danger girls. everyone else here is used to challenges and have all this experience and then there’s my dumbass who has no fuckin clue what he’s doing. i could easily be first out this tribe tonight if no one wants to rock the boat and they all just vote based off challenge strength

I hate this challenge and I hate these flash games. That is all. 🙃

so i'm gonna try to keep this short because i have lots of writing to do for a history class, but basically, i've been praying for a swap to get away from the disaster that was sonkei, and last night, i finally got my wish! I wish we had gotten a break day to talk to everyone, because those are always nice when you swap, but i think i'll be able to do fine without it. my tribe breakdown could NOT have gone better! though i didn't end up with anybody i knew particularly well, i ended up with some people i've been talking to AND getting along with. Sammy is someone i love and someone i'm even buying a shirt from lol, nothing to do with the game he just told me about some of his graphic design work and i saw his shirts and i was like... let me buy it. Jacob, i love and we have very similar music taste. Then Nicole i've chatted with a bit, we're not close or anything but i like her! Pete, Eve, and Kevin were all entirely new. I think there's a lot of potential with pete, we've already bonded over crazy people in past games and our anxiety in games. whereas with eve things started off on an... AWKWARD foot, and with kevin, well i just suck at convo and he's not great either. some people are soooo dry and i just don't get it and as far as that goes i'm honestly struggling with some of these conversations like how r ppl so dry... but that being said i get along with everyone on this team and i think it's a really strong team, so i'm hoping that when results come out in like 15 minutes, i'm not proven wrong and we win! i tried really hard on the challenge and while i like everyone on the team (Jacob/Sammy specifically may be very useful as i'm also close with caeleb and they're working together.. Could be a good lil alliance type thing, potentially. I dunno.) i'm not 100% sure how safe i will be at tribal and really i just really, REALLY want a break from tribal. i'm very much #OverIt, and at this rate i genuinely might turn into Denise like Caeleb was joking about. I'm just sick of tribal council at this rate and I really don't want to go again, the arena makes these dynamics impossible and if I'm going to keep going I'm gonna have to keep managing everyone that goes there and back too.... OH BOOM RESULTS CAME OUT DURING TRIBAL AND WE WON! Thank FUCK. But the rest of that still stands about the confusing dynamics, how things are everchanging, and how avoiding tribal... I'm happy about it and hopefully I can continue to do it? I also need to talk things over with Billy, smooth over that dynamic and get him knowing I really do want him till the FINALS. I need him to trust me and the last tribal did not work for that. So it's go time. Thanks for helping me out, Miraitowa, my bomb af run begins now.

New Yushu, new us! Honestly, I'm really pleased with the tribe, but it sucks to see one of our own go. I have to, with a heavy heart, vote for Karen to go to arena. If all goes well, and I hope it will, they'll bring home the gold for us. :)

wooooooo i'm nervous about tribal! unfortunately tribe yushu cannot catch a break even with new tribe members. voting out karen is best for my game but i'm afraid that me pushing for them to leave shows my cards a little too much and i fear that if we go to another tribal next round i'm gonna be in a bad position. i'll do what i can to maintain the connections i have rn and hopefully keep my life in this game going!! on that note. anxiety might kill me

Well I'm so MAD I LOST THE ARENA, I WAS IN LAST PLACE LAST PLACE! Then all of a sudden I take off and I literally was in first by 10 minutes and I get STUCK on the LAST CLUE and everyone else passes me and beats me. Which leaves me with no medal. Maybe this will lower my threat level because I keep flopping in all the comps but I literally have been trying to win these challenges and I just suck. However, I did make a key social connection with Beck during my time at the arena and I think this could be a good connection for my game. Then the swap comes and I'm like :V and I start messaging Beck because it's schoolyard pick and he messages me and says "If I pick you, will you pick someone I want?" and of course in my head I'm like "Well no duh I want to be in the majority" so I agree and he says "Darcy" so I know he has a tight bond with Darcy so whichever way Beck votes Darcy may follow. Then Darcy chooses Caeleb which I thought was a bit random but maybe they had talked a little and without any hesitation Caeleb chooses Juls *side eye emoji*. Juls I get a read that she is someone who is super dangerous. She's extremely likeable and has made no enemies despite going to tribal 3 times and everytime the person voted out came back. I think she may even be my biggest threat on this tribe. I don't necessarily know if she'll come for me but I don't want to find out. Then Juls talks about bringing Landen aka her partner in crime and in my head I'm like "Please god don't let Landen on this tribe." Thankfully the tribe right before it got to us picked him and she picked Ben because we wanted challenge strength and then Ben randomly chooses Karen aka the person who I wanted out first if Shosha ever want to tribal council and who has bombed most of the challenges this season. Then to make matters worse we BOMB this Immunity, I think these OG Blue people are cursed because they have been going to tribal every round besides the first round of the game. So now my closest ally in the game on my tribe is Beck. We call and Beck tells me about the dynamic how him and Juls know each other and he backstabbed her and he thinks she may want revenge. However, I believe they are about to host an ORG together so it's going to be really hard to convince him to turn on her because then she might say something if she's voted out because they will be hosting together. At the point I was at I was fine with Karen going home over Juls first because Ben said "Let's go for Juls." Then the targets ended up switching around and now everyone wants Karen, which I was still fine with until I get a message maybe an hour later from Karen saying "I really think we should stick together." and then I'm like well I guess this means if Karen stays I'm her #1 and that's very important on a tribe that'll only get smaller, so now I don't want Karen to go home but her odds are looking so narrow that she avoids the arena. However, I think she can pull out a Gold Medal and if she does leave I hope she does come back. I kinda view the tribe as there's the three of the OG Blues (Ben, Darcy, and Beck), the duo of Juls and Caeleb, and the sorta a duo of myself and Karen but nobody really sees us as a duo. Then Juls and Beck have a strong connection, Me and Beck have a strong connection, and Beck and Darcy have a strong connection. Beck has already voiced to me about blindsiding Ben, who I don't know if I can trust but at this point I'm not against it but I rather see Juls go, she's a way bigger threat and I don't think she will return with a gold and it causes tensions if she does return between Beck and Juls and it's off of me. My plan is to just keep Beck as close as I can I need to be his #1, I'll even take a close #2. This way I'm able to secure my safety in the tribe. I'm also trying to get closer to Caeleb in the route we end up going for Juls next and she doesn't come back I think I may be able to scoop him up as a number for me while being on this tribe and developing a bond that can last a while. Ideally Juls leaves tonight however, it'll sadly be Karen with that being said my perfect scenario is Karen wins the gold medal comes back, if we go to tribal again we meaning (myself, darcy, ben, and beck possibly karen) blindside Juls/Caeleb sending Juls home and she looses in the arena, I scoop up Caeleb, keep Karen close, Beck close, and then go for a blindside against Ben using (myself, karen, beck, and caeleb) even if Ben returns I think he'll feel most betrayed by Beck, and keep my options open from there. This way I'll start taking out people I feel like are dangerous that won't be targeted and I make my threat level smaller while creating strong bonds with people, and have other people be mad at each other. Hopefully all of this while we win a few immunities so that we aren't completely decimated by the time we get to a swap.

This swap is good, I either wanted Billy or Nik out and that seems to be happening. Nik and Sarah aren't talking to me. I'm immune. Y'all confusing

Pretty sure I sent in confessional already this round, but why not, let's send another. I don't got too much to add since my past confessional, but my tribe lost immunity. Seeming like the vote is going to be Karen, but who knows, could be me, or could be someone else, I am not fully certain how this vote will end up playing out.

i love my new tribe with my whole entire heart!! sm i going to tribal again? maybe so. HOWEVER, they’re all angels and i can’t wait to continue to work with them

hello i'm retracting my previous confessional bc now i actually have a reason to vote out someone who isn't karen. the vote is flipping on ben which i'm okay with because apparently he did something that upset caeleb and i want everybody to be comfortable playing this game. so hey, at least i know i'm safe tonight

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Anyway so my UTR game is over and now it’s time to make a confessional! We’ve swapped tribes or whatever and of course I get swapped onto a tribe without nicole or Kevin so basically my back is against the wall /:. Anyway so I have tommy, juls, caeleb, Ben, becks and Darcy on my tribe now and they all suck at challenges apparently sjdbdjdndj like I didn’t do well on immunity but I didn’t even try which in retrospect wasn’t a good idea because now these freaks are targeting me as the weakest. So Ben and becks last night were basically like yeah we’re probably voting for you /: like first of all....fuck u, the only reason you tell me that is because you don’t think I have a chance to save myself, I don’t want your stupid pity confession, at least TRY to strategize with me. It took everything in me not to snap at them, I mean I kinda went off on becks but w/e they can’t be so naive. Anyway so I was talking to nicole and Kevin trying to save my ass and we figured out that I would have majority if I got me & tommy and the two people who were on other tribe so that was my mission for today. I think I talked enough with both caeleb and juls to convince them to work with tommy and I but I’m also a little weary /: I can’t be too sure and that scares me so anyway I’m gonna look for an idol hopefully I find something and hopefully no one is playing my ass right now or else it’s GG to me /: also becks is on board with voting Ben which like yikes if Ben finds out lol. Ben messaged me recently so I need to deal with that because I assume someone told him something ugh why do these newbies suck ):

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Sooooooo I really need to keep my mouth shut sometimes. I didn't want Nik or I to go so I thought that we could avoid it, however chris didn't wanna swap. This really sucks because I didn't want Nik to go but I didn't make any effort to try and save him, which is odd for me. Had Chris and I voted out Sarah, it would've been fine. However, I'm now probably gonna be the biggest target in this tribe. BRING IT BITCHES I'M READY.

Maybe I should watch more of the actual Survivor show, but I'm now fully realizing that how well someone plays the game does not directly correlate to them winning...it's all politics and drama 🙃

These people are literally insane. This is hilarious. I'm still on thin ice but this position is a lot better than my last one. Billy sucks. Common theme. Nik showed up at the live tribal but not to anyone's dms.

After seeing the MESSY ass tribal Sonkei just had, AGAIN, I am so glad I finally got the fuck off that tribe and onto a new one. The curse of Suckei really does exist, it's an absolute trainwreck tribe... That being said I had to laugh, and it might go down as one of the best tribes in history. Those iconic trainwrecky Survivor tribes are just.. ugh. That being said, I am SO SICK OF EMMA SURVIVING. PLEASE KICK HER ASS THE FUCK OUT OF THE GAME LIKE I HATE HER! ......Okay moving on from that outburst :) One thing this does remind me of though, is that I need to become more active in my pursuit to understand dynamics. I kinda wanted to take a step back and just observe during the swap, because usually I overplay out. And here, I just want to chill, and let people kind of forget that I ran shit on Original Sonkei. Forget that I was the leader there, who dominated everything with an iron fist (even if sometimes accidentally... Trainwreck vibes!) and just think of me as a cute derpy 16 yr old player again. That was my plan, but I'm starting to get nervous. This late in the game and I'm still in no official alliance chats, I may be losing Billy, and i'm ANXIOUS about the future. I definitely need to work harder on things moving forward, so that's exactly what I'm going to do.

IM READY TO KILL STONER AND DARCY AND BEN AND EVERYONE IN THAT ARENA EXCEPT NIK FUCK THAT TRIBE THAT VOTED HIM OUT AND FUCK THAT ARENA FUCK EVERYBODY I DONT EVEN REMEMBER WHAT TRIBE HES FROM BUT WHATEVER ITS LATE AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO SLEEP EARLIER AND NOW IMMA BE REALLY SLEEPY FOR MY ANNOYING ASS JOB THAT I KEEP DOING OVERTIME FOR CUS MY SHITTY ASS COWORKERS KEEP LEAVING EARLY I GOT OFF TOPIC ANYWAYS FUCK ARENA AND FUCK THE WINNERS AND FUCK THE RETURNEES AND FUCK SONKEI AND FUCK YUSHU FUCKIN DISCOUNT WANNABE YUJO BITCHES OKAY EVE SARAH AND I WILL GET YOUR ASSES

psa krispy kreme is evil like they have bullshit random ass “deals” like 8 days a week for NO REASON like this one time it was New Year’s Eve so duh it’ll already be busy but corporate decided hey let’s do an annoying ass BOGO for $2 deal to torture our retail workers and I was working fucking drive thru that day and lemme tell you there have been very few times my patience and emotional strength have been toyed with by the force of god and i sure as hell wasnt prepared to have it at fucking 8 in the fucking morning i was so tempted to just tell every customer we make our donuts with bleach and orphan meat. it’s fucking 1 AM and i told myself i’d sleep at like 8 or 9 like a responsible adult but nooOOOOoo i just HAD to forget to eat so i have to make food and eat it so now i’m at midnight and gotta do this challenge or whatever so now i have fuckin 5 hours for my ugly ass to get enough beauty rest to be a lovely customer service representative of Krispy Kreme Enterprises™ and i’m gonna hate waking up i’m dreading it i have so much to do. i got off topic but yeah fuck arena fuck everyone in this game go eat a dick i’m upset and idk what else to say i ran out of angry words fuck that challenge and fuck billy dude why is he still here fuck the fuckin olympics nobody benefits from them except the greedy billionaires at the top like not even the athletes benefit that much they still gotta work average jobs like the rest of us like i always though olympic athletes were rich and shit but no they get screwed over royally and the places that host the olympics get shit on horribly it’s just an all around awful event doing nothing but spreading blind nationalism which is dangerous fuck america dude america’s a piece of shit and i’m allowed to say that i’m from florida fuck you anyways i’m tired bye fuck this

and fuckin who the fuck is ben dude like no Nik was robbed bring Nik back fuckin ben from fuckin wannabe yujo tribe didn’t he go in a unanimous vote yikes also shoutout to whatever dumbass cancelled his vote that was a waste like why didn’t you save that shit dude fuck arena btw and fuck sonkei lmao loser ass tribe go win a challenge or something wow people are really gonna hate me when then airs but oh well i’m venting i’m at a breaking point and i don’t wanna fuckin go to work dude fuck fuckin yushu and fuck sonkei just throw the whole tribe away it’s Yujo final 3 bitches and fuck everybody else

literally like i was added and my phone was still loading ALL the messages from all that fucking lag and already they started the round before i knew what was going on so i was just blind going in so fuckin stoner ass weee bitch got it when i wasn’t even there like ooh you won a challenge against nobody go fuck yourself by the time i could see the messages it was already over and they were like “sns you were here :/// go die i guess lmao loser” so yeah i’m a lil heated and it’s fucking 1:30 i can only get 3 and a half hours of sleep fuck this

okay now it’s real strategy time. Nik just got robbed and I found out from Sarah that Billy’s leading the new Sonkei and wants her out next. Okay first off how the hell was he not voted out for not even doing the challenge? Second, if he’s targeting Yujo’s then he’s officially made the biggest mistake in the game. Eve and I are now on a mission to lead the Sonkei tribe to get rid of Billy as he should’ve been day 1. I think I can maybe convince Jordan and Chris, we just need 3 to have a chance.

After swap 1

After nik got voted out

after winning arena

youtube

I’m fucking tireddddddd of going to tribal this game is not shaking out how I want it to.

TRIBE SWAP BLESS THE TRIBE SWAP! i did truly like caeleb sammy and jacob a lot as people but like I was so going home if we lost its crazy. Now hopefully I can work with them without such tight a line keeping us together. ANYWAYS! we swap and I am in a fantastic position, i basically just took over tribe in terms of power. First thing i do is allign with stoner which is so funny to me. I realized hes someone whose general clout in the community is more disliked than me, so maybe i can make him my goat. I wonder if hes thinking the same about me. I wanted to work with billy but that guy is crazy like and that would be fine, if he was just normal crazy, but hes also the type of crazy thats like flip a vote at tribal for no reason and like I cant deal with that. I thought he had potnetial for a jordan pines minion, but sadly I think he might have to go. Anyways we lose teh challenge and em wants to target nik, em is somoene i super vibe with tbh so we get on board. HOwever she doesnt watn to tell sarah and im like OPPORTUNITY. I have had some great bonding with Sarah and think I have secured her loyaly to myself. I let her know about nik and got her to play dumb while still keeping her in the know. Now i think shes really loyal to me So after all that heres where stand. i have a 4 person alliance with me Stoner Em and Jacob which will likely take out billy if we lose again.the plan is the use sarah as a fifth on the side but my plan is a lil different. I want to keep sarah as tight to me as possible and when the time comes to take her out, do what I got to do to keep the people I think will progress me furthest in teh game. I don't think I am in danger of going this tribe swap so I need to use this opportunity to make sure I am okay for whatever comes after it.

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

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azeroth-and-beyond · 6 years ago

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Forged in Fel Flame

Grogda held her tongs firmly, their arms grasping a large piece of red-hot iron. With the small hammer in her other hand, she gave the metal a gentle tap in a very specific spot. Suddenly, a larger hammer crashed down on the same spot, a loud bang that reverberated around the large room.

“Oi, hit it harder, yeh dumbass!” the dwarf screamed, sweat pouring from her brow. The large felguard on the other side of the anvil grunted loudly, but said nothing. Grogda tapped the iron again with her hammer, which was immediately followed by another large strike from the felguard. “Much better, keep it up!” She kept tapping the hot iron, and the felguard kept striking it, gradually shaping it, warlock and demon functioning in tandem. The metal slowly cooled, losing its red color.

“Increase the heat, the forge is too cold!” Grogda barked without even looking at the forge, feeling the lack of heat on the back of her neck.

“What?! How hot do you want this forge to be?” came the screeched response, which made Grogda furrow her brows.

“Hotter than it is now! Get to it!” The forge light increased, further illuminating the room, and warming the back of her neck again. “Much better!” She turned her head, looking at the imp channeling a jet of flame into the forge. She smiled, and chuckled briefly. “Ha! See? Do as yer told, and this will work out just fine.” Grogda set down her hammer and grabbed the tongs with both hands, placing the cooled metal back in the forge. “More heat, yeh bastard!” she snapped at the distressed-looking imp.

“How much fire do you think I got?!” he chittered in return, exasperated.

Grogda shook her head, and turned to look at the imp for a few seconds. “Bah, I’ll do it meself!” Her eyes glowed brightly, an intense orange light surging from them. She raised her hand toward the forge, and released a bout of fel fire into it, turning the inside of the furnace into a raging inferno. After a moment, the inferno subsided, leaving the forge much hotter than it had been previously. “Perfect,” she said to herself, satisfied. The dwarf waited until the metal bar was once again glowing hot, and repeated the same process several times. It slowly took shape and form.

There were several dark iron bars neatly piled in a corner, with many other bars of all types and colors stacked upon them, waiting to be used. The forge room was well equipped and served Grogda well, even if she had sacrificed the largest room of her house to build it. She had also earned the ire of Fenella Darkvire, one of the head architects of Shadowforge City, by altering the lava flow so she could use its heat to warm her forge. But it had been all worth it, because she now had one of the best private forges in all of Blackrock Mountain. It was no Black Forge or Black Anvil, but here, here she could work at her own leisure, in whatever way she preferred. There were no other dwarves here to heckle her for taking too long, or for “damaging” the forge with her... peculiar methods.

The smithing continued for several more hours, the thick metal bar slowly taking the shape of a beautiful, ornate hammer. Grogda inspected her work against the forge’s light closely. She had a reputation to uphold, after all-- and delivering a flawed commission could spell the end of her name. She had to make sure no weak points or impurities threatened her creation. Her eyes lit up again, but this time they didn’t glow red. Instead, they were suffused with a sickly green and purple light. She raised a hand, using her particular brand of magic to open a portal into the abyss that was the Twisting Nether.

It didn’t take long for an observer to float through the portal and into her forge. “Ah, calling me again so soon, Grogda?” he chuckled, amused.

Grogda simply held the hammer out to the demon. “Yes. I need yeh to inspect this hammer for me.”

The observer blinked at the object several times, and then turned his gaze back upon the dark iron. “This is not enchanted, Grogda. There’s no magic I can learn from this.”

Grogda sighed. Observers were supposed to be among the smartest demons there were, but sometimes they were amazingly obtuse. “Because I want yeh to analyze the hammer's integrity, not observe magic! Now get to it, it’s part of yer contract.”

The observer rolled his several eyes, clearly annoyed, but obeyed. As he focused on the hammer, his eyes began to emit rays of light, which connected with the hammer. The rays scanned it several times, without seeming to affect the object in any way. The observer relaxed, and looked at Grogda again, his head bouncing in the air as he nodded. She grinned.

The warlock walked over to a special table she had built just for enchanting, and gently set the still hot hammer down in the center. The table was covered in specialized engravings, painstakingly hand-carved into the hard stone. Arcane wasn’t her forte, of course, but she was still well-versed in the delicate magic of enchanting.

Beside the table was a large metal chest. Grogda grunted as she opened it, looking inside. She took a few small cloth bags and placed them upon the table, opening them one by one. Each contained something different; some were filled with pieces of crystallized mana, while others held enchanting dust. Using the table's carvings to guide her, she meticulously placed crystals at key points. She sprinkled the hammer with enchanting dust, making sure it was fully covered, then connected all the crystals with a trail of dust. She beckoned for the observer once more, who floated toward the table, appearing slightly more interested in this part of the process.

By this time, the forge's heat had subsided, and the felguard and imp were resting. Grogda lifted a hand, conjuring a small, flickering flame on the tips of her fingers. She carefully touched a line of enchanting dust with her fingertip. Being no ordinary fire, it spread quickly through the trails of dust as if they were oil, engulfing her carefully-placed crystals, and finally the hammer itself. Though they burned bright, the flames were eerily cold. The crystals began to dissolve, their liquefied mana following a fiery trail toward the hammer, bubbling like melted wax.

Grogda's hand remained steady as she manipulated the enchantment. The process itself could take several hours, and everything had to be perfect for the magic to properly take hold. Even the smallest mistake could ruin her work at any moment. But there was a reason why she charged a premium for her weapons. Her creations were no poor smith's shoddy craftsmanship. Grogda had spent decades honing her craft.

As the last of the crystals melted down, she controlled her breathing carefully. “Here. Watch this.” She snapped her fingers, a dancing green fel flame sparking to life at her fingertips. Though small, it seemed very much alive, as if desperate to break free from the warlock's control. She slowly lowered it toward the last remaining crystal, her muscles visibly tense. This was the hardest part of the process, as fel magic was too chaotic and unstable for most enchanters to work with. Grogda, however, was willing to take risks that others might not. She had learned to add her own flair to her enchanting, empowering the magic beyond its normal capabilities-- that is, if she was successful at binding the fel energy. At best, a failure would result in the magic breaking free from her control and consuming her creation. At worst... Well, there would be a raging inferno where her forge had once been. It was best not to contemplate that just now.

As the fel flame touched the crystal, the lines of fire consuming the dust flared brighter, shifting in color and temperament. It grew, becoming aggressive, trying to escape from the bounds of the dust trails in order to consume the table. Grogda was faster, taking control of the situation. She deftly wove the fel and arcane together, binding the innate order of arcane to the ineluctable chaos of fel.

The demonic observer barely blinked, intent upon observing her technique and her methods as the magics met and combined. While it was not unusual to use both together, and using one often led to using the other, it was still a unique process, and he seemed to find it quite fascinating to watch.

The enchantment took hours, and by the time it was done, the fire had burnt down to ash, the dust and crystals completely consumed. The stone table was left looking quite singed, but the hammer stood proudly in the center, covered in a fine layer of dark ash.

Grogda lifted the hammer carefully, finding it to be heavy and well balanced. She had used a special alloy of her own invention, and was quite pleased with the results. She stood back and gave the weapon a few test swings, the muscles in her arms flexing, then handed it back to the observer. The demon appeared quite eager, and needed no further commands. He inspected it closely, his eye beams hungrily scanning the hammer, perhaps more thoroughly than strictly necessary. He kept his gaze on it for several minutes, then finally chuckled.

“Another masterfully crafted item, Grogda. Congratulations.”

The dark iron picked the hammer back up with her callused hands, and inspected it for herself, the shine of the metal reflecting the dim light of the cooling forge.

“Imp! Clean the table.” The demon groaned reluctantly, but knew there was nothing he could say that would change his fate. He grabbed a bucket and brush from the corner, clambered onto the table, and began to scrub at the ash and scorch-marks.

Grogda found that she was grinning, proud of her work. The observer floated back to her side, curious. “Tell me, Grogda. Does this hammer already have an owner? How much did you sell it for?” Grogda kept her eyes on the hammer in her hands, drinking in every detail, remaining silent as she felt its weight and imagined its power. “Because, well, if you are still looking for a buyer, I could make an offer for it instead. I’m sure you’d find it generous-- more generous, I imagine, than even a wealthy dwarf could offer you.”

Grogda shook her head, her eyes glinting. “This is not a mere commission, Xhultarc.”

The demon took a long look at the hammer, unable to conceal the longing in his gaze. “I can still make my offer. Perhaps I could change your mind?”

The warlock finally looked up, and stared directly and fearlessly into the demon's largest eye. “No, Xhultarc. This hammer is not for sale.”

He shook his head, bereft, and heaved a sigh. “Very well,” he grumbled. “And who is it for? Or are you going to wield it yourself?”

Grogda smiled, letting out a soft chuckle. “No. This is a gift.” She looked into the hammer again, her smile widening. “You see, in a few years, Dagran II will need a weapon that is befitting of his station... And his throne.”

((Many thanks to http://liettarosewood.tumblr.com/ for editing this story for me!))

#Short Story #BFA #Allied Races #Grogda

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writingismyhappytime · 7 years ago

Text

Good Little Girl (Part 8)

Ricky Horror x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Angst, mention of cheating, torture, thoughts of suicide, murder

Angelo and Horror grapple for control, slinging themselves around the study and destroying half the furniture. You flinch where you sit in front of the desk, cradling your bitten arm against your stomach, doing your best to not bleed out while they fight. Your legs are too weak for you to make it to the door, that or you're in so much shock you can't move.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear Horror bellow, and this time there's the sound of glass shattering, no doubt the large, gold-rimmed mirror that hangs against the far wall. They're shouting at each other, but it's their voices, so guttural --- more demon than human.

You need to get out of here!

You look at the doorway, the door halfway off its hinges at this point. Angelo had thrown Horror into it earlier and knocked it so far back it'll never hang right now. You'll never forget the twisted look on Horror's face, how he'd rebounded off of it and went right back into the fight.

He's tough, that's for sure.

Scrappy.

Right, you should be leaving.

You cast an anxious look behind you, your fingers digging into the desk as you use it to stand. You waver dangerously, the demons just blurs before your eyes. Occasionally you can see the spatter of black blood through the air, the acrid scent making your stomach churn dangerously. Demon blood is on your fingers where you stabbed Angelo with a pen earlier, and you're pretty sure your dress is ruined, too.

Again, you need to leave.

You know it, and yet --- you're reluctant to leave Horror. You know you can't help, but you're afraid for him; his brother is so much older, so much stronger, he's just going to hurt Horror! You want to help, do something, distract the older demon so that Horror can get some kind of advantage!

But what?

What can you do?

"What in the goddamn hell is going on here?" Someone snarls inches from behind you, and you shriek in alarm, whirling around.

Your eyes go wide as you stare into a pair of black ones, finding them annoyed. You shrink back instantly, your eyes flicking over the pale man in front of you. Black curls, tall stature, broad shoulders and a scowling face --- is he another brother?

You twist as you hear yelps, seeing Horror and Angelo being torn from each other, as if something was dragging them to opposite sides of the room.

Horror hisses, black blood covering the lower half of his face, and it's obvious he's been taking the worst of the fight. He writhes against the invisible hold on him, pressed up against the wall opposite Angelo, who's just glowering at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" The new demon hisses, looking irritated as he looks back and forth. "What the fuck is going on?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Angelo demands, wiping at the blood smearing his cheek. "Shouldn't you and that whore of yours be in China?"

"I would like to be, yes. But I can't exactly enjoy myself when I can feel the pain of you two morons hurting each other! Where's Christopher?"

"How the hell should we know?"

"Richard," the demon looks at Horror pointedly, still able to feel the younger brothers pain the strongest. He's used to the two of them fighting, especially since Angelo had started helping finance Horror, but it's never been like this. Last time they'd fought, Christopher had arrived pretty quickly, putting an end to it.

Ghost is content to let Christopher handle them all. However, when the pain had just worsened, Ghost had had no choice but to come and intervene himself.

He finds it the oddest situation.

You're obviously a pet, bleeding severely out of your wrist, demon blood on you. Horror's scent is heaviest on your skin, although it's obvious Angelo is the one who bit you. Odd, considering he's usually content with his witch, what is he doing going after Horror's pet?

Ghost gives it a few seconds, black eyes narrowing when he doesn't get an answer.

He reaches for you, his hand curling around your shoulder. Horror immediately starts, straining against the invisible force holding him back.

"Get your fucking hand off of her!"

Ahuh.

Ghost isn't hurting you, in fact, his touch is very light. He's testing your energy, which at the moment is seriously lacking. You're exhausted, two different demon venom's running through your veins, making you woozy. He's quite surprised you've not collapsed already.

"Angelo, did you attack his pet?"

"Yes." Angelo is irritated he can't move. He's older then Ghost, he shouldn't be stuck to a fucking wall!

"Why?"

"Because Richard is a little bitch and I wanted her!"

Huh.

Ghost glances at you again, at the blood dripping all across the now ruined carpet. Why does Angelo want you? You're not his type, and your brown hair is now limp and clinging to your skin. You're hunched, as if waiting for him to strike you down, of which he has no intention.

Serena is waiting for him, he'd said he'd only be a few minutes and he meant it. He has to get back to her before the dumbass gets herself into trouble, which she always does when there's no one looking out for her. Chibs just follows right along with her like a good little puppy, and Ghost has already had to butcher some humans who tried to kidnap her once.

At least she's immortal now, thanks to Angelo's witch.

Which, of course, makes Ghost that much more curious.

"Why are you over here trying to take Richard's pet when that witch of yours is still around? Did she leave you?"

"Red's fine." Angelo's voice is suddenly dark, livid; he doesn't want to hear the mention of her name.

"Then what's this bullshit about? I don't have time for this."

Horror twitches; of course Ghost doesn't have time, no one ever has time for him! It's no big deal Angelo is trying to steal his woman, trying to take the one thing he's grown to care about. No, of fucking course not.

As long as everyone else is happy, no one cares about Horror.

Horror growls softly in frustration, and with one harsh jerk, frees himself of Ghost's telekinetic hold. Ghost arches a brow, a little surprised, but merely watches as Horror immediately goes to you. He curls you to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he moves the two of you over to a corner, sitting you down in the one remaining chair.

Both brothers watch, tilting their heads as Horror takes your arm, immediately closing his lips over it. He heals the wound the best he can, feeling your entire frame shaking, your eyes bloodshot and dilated from the abuse of the last hour. He feels immediate shame that he couldn't protect you, despite what he'd said before. He shouldn't have trusted Angelo, and he never will again.

Ghost and Angelo look at each other.

"R-Rick---."

"Shh, it's fine now," Horrors murmurs, curling you into his shoulder. You shudder against him, curling your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face against it. You'd been so afraid for him and yourself!

"That bitch deserved what she gets, she stabbed me!" Angelo snaps, stepping forward now that Ghost isn't holding him back.

"She stabbed you?" Ghost arches a black brow, amused.

"Yes. With a pen."

"Because you attacked her."

"Yes."

"Then you deserved it." Ghost dismisses him, withholding a chuckle. So Horror found him a pet capable of taking care of herself, huh?

Stabbing Angelo is definitely impressive; the pain demon is never caught by surprise.

Angelo huffs indignantly, crossing his arms, covered in red and black blood. He's scowling, eye twitching thanks to the long scratch from Horror's nails. He's very displeased, but after taking his frustration out on you and his brother, he feels a little better. He's pissed at Red, but the two of you have been a nice outlet.

Horror pats your hair, feeling the dampness against his shoulder. You're crying, you've probably never been subjected to anything like this before and it's all his fault! You're not afraid of him, despite his appearance, which is some relief to him; you're clinging onto him like he's your lifeline, and he very might well be.

"I want you out," he says after a moment, eyes going to Angelo. "I want you the fuck out and to never come back!"

"Out?" Angelo scoffs. "I'm fucking paying for this club, Richard."

"No, you're not. I've already made enough money to offset the costs, and I'll give it to Red. I don't need you here, I don't want you here, and I never want to see you again!"

"Oh, are we breaking up?" Angelo sneers, Horror twitching at the tone. "How sad."

"I'm not fucking kidding!" Horror snarls, and he detangles himself from you, rising angrily to his feet; he'll fight again if he has too! "I don't fucking want anything to do with you anymore! I helped you save Red, and this is how you fucking return the favor? Attacking my girl and trying to kill her? Fuck you!"

"Your girl? Your girl? She's just a pet!"

Horror clenches his jaw, his black eyes never wavering from his older brother. He's serious, he doesn't ever want him around again, not for any amount of money in the world. Angelo is nothing but egotistical, cruel, even to his own family! Horror will never forgive him for this, not in a million years!

Right now, you mean more to him then his brothers, who've always treated him like shit. He might be young, but he's not going to tolerate it anymore; he's a demon just like they are, and he's finally found his footing in the world.

"I. Don't. Need. You. Anymore." He says, making sure to enunciate each word perfectly. "Either of you." His eyes flick between both brothers, seeing Ghost merely leaning back on his heels, watching everything go down with the tiniest amused smile. "I don't need your money, I don't need you dropping by --- I don't want anything from you!"

"You don't need my money? That's all you've ever wanted," Angelo snorts, not taking Horror seriously at all. "You're always leeching off the rest of us."

"Not anymore. I know what I'm doing." Horror is confident in that at least. The club is doing fantastic, it's flooded with people each night, he can finally make his own way in the world.

His family can fuck off, including Christopher, who hasn't been around in years now.

Horror doesn't need them, despite the twinge of pain in his chest. He wants family, he wants people to care about him and be proud of him, but he's never going to get that from his brothers. Even his human family was dismissive of him, too preoccupied with what was happening in their own lives to acknowledge his.

Even family can be disappointing.

Well, Horror's going to have to get over it, he knows that. He has you now, what else does he need? He'll keep contact with Red because she's his friend, but that's it; he tried to kill Serena once, plus the blonde bimbo of Ghost's is the biggest idiot he's ever met. At least you and Red can hold intelligent conversations!

Well, alright, so he also went to manhandle Red once, too, if he remembers correctly. So the fact Angelo is returning the favor, perhaps Horror shouldn't be so upset over it, but --- well, Ghost should be mad at him.

So he's made some mistakes, he was a different demon then!

"You're choosing a pet over me then?" Angelo challenges, clenching his fists. "You're choosing some human you fuck over your own brother?"

"I'm choosing someone who at least doesn't treat me like shit!" Horror hisses, not backing down like he usually would. He stands his ground, eyes black as night, glowering. "She might be a pet, but she's been kinder and more helpful to me then any of you ever have!"

"Oh, please. That's because of your venom, not because she gives a shit about you!"

"So? None of you ever have regardless!"

"True," Angelo snorts, seeing Horror stiffen at the admission. "You're blood, we have to take care of you."

That shouldn't hurt Horror's feelings, but it does.

"Well, you don't anymore. I don't want it!" He spits, glancing at Ghost once more. "From any of you!"

"Yeah, we'll see how long you go without calling on one of us for help."

"Angelo," Ghost sighs, shaking his head. His brother is older, and Ghost used to hate him for how much stronger he was, more powerful; now, however, Ghost is tired, of all of their antics, and he just wants to spend the rest of his lifetime with his human while he has her. She won't live forever, and neither will he, and honestly he expects her to go before him, she's fragile.

If Horror likes his new pet, if he feels so strongly about her, let him have her. He's already seeming more mature then Ghost has ever seen, although the bitterness in his voice is new. He's used to Horror being childish, sulky, but he used to never stand up to himself, always whined instead.

It's impressive.

Perhaps you're good for him.

Ghost's eyes trail to you where you're sitting, seeing your eyes are alert as they rove the room. Despite the double dose of venom in you're blood, you're completely coherent, whereas most would be comatose. You're still clutching your arm, although he can see the wound is gone, healed by Horror's saliva.

You're an interesting creature; is it the fairy blood? It should be so diluted that it's nearly nonexistent, unless Horror's meddling has brought it out of sleeping. The Queen of Fairies is a powerful and ancient creature, so her blood, no matter how latent, will always come forth if bothered enough.

Could be Horror is getting himself a fairyborn he won't know what to do with.

How interesting.

"Come, Angelo," Ghost says after a moment, interrupting their squabbling. "Let's go."

"What? Hell no! I'm not done with the little bastard and that ----."

"Angelo," Ghost's voice is sharp, leaving no room for argument, and Angelo stiffens; he remembers what Ghost did to him the last time they had a fight over a pet, and he doesn't want to go through it again. "Let's go. You've done enough damage here."

"Not enough!"

"Don't make me drag you out of here kicking and screaming."

"You can fucking try, Devin."

Ghost narrows his eyes; Angelo is just spoiling for a new fight, isn't he?

"Do we need to call your witch here?" Ghost asks coolly, finally striking a nerve. "I'm sure she would love to know what you've been doing tonight."

"Don't you fucking dare!"

"Then leave, or I'll send for her and let you deal with the consequences!" Ghost figured mentioning the witch would motivate Angelo, he can't imagine the rage she'll bring down on him where she inevitably does find out.

Angelo seethes for a moment, glaring at everyone before he storms out of the room, Ghost stepping smoothly out of his way. He waits, making sure that the cranky demon is gone before he looks at Horror and you.

Horror's slumping now, a defeated look on his face. He looks very unhappy, and it's not a look Ghost is used to seeing. Usually it's indignant, scowling, or miffed, or a combination of the three. Never quite like that.

He watches as you hesitantly reach forward, curling your fingers around Horror's black stained ones. Horror turns, and he gives you a weak smile, letting himself turn to kneel down in front of you, pressing his lips against your forehead before squeezing your hands.

Interesting.

Has Horror finally found someone to be attached too?

Ironic it's a fairyborn.

"If you need anything, or Angelo bothers you again, call me." Ghost says after a moment, checking his cuff links. If Horror has found someone who makes him feel better about himself, Ghost doesn't want him to lose that; he knows how he was before Serena, how miserable despite himself. It's the human part of them, the part that clings despite all the horrible things they do, that craves someone at their side, someone to care for them.

All demons have it.

Angelo finally found himself someone, and since then has been rather calm. After his recent actions, Ghost figures the relationship is starting to sour.

Not surprising; pain demons are hard creatures to stand.

"I don't need your help." Horror mutters, looking over his shoulder; he'll never call on any of them again.

"Nevertheless, I advise you call me to avoid a situation such as this." Ghost gestures around the room. "Next time your pet might not survive such an episode."

Horror tenses, but you just look resigned.

How much do you know? After this, you must have some inkling the man you're with isn't human, but Ghost has the feeling you already do.

Has Horror told you everything?

~~~~~~~~

Horror's quiet, standing by the window gazing out into the city. The curtains are moving with the cool breeze, the window open to allow fresh air to circulate. You're asleep on your bed, completely out, exhausted after your horrible day.

Ghost had left, and Horror had immediately taken you from the office and to your room. You'd cried the entire time, and he'd let you. You'd nearly choked him as you sat curled in his lap, shuddering in his arms, your fear pouring into his body and healing his injuries.

He hates himself.

He doesn't want to be a demon anymore, someone who feeds off the misery of others. He doesn't want to feel good when you're hurting or sad, he just --- he wants to be normal again! He leans his head against the wall, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, the sounds of the city reaching his ears.

He hates this place.

He hates his family.

He hates himself.

He's a terrible excuse for a demon, and he knows that. He shouldn't be upset with himself or his brothers because his pet is hurt, but he is. What demon is that weak?

He shouldn't have been born.

He'd give anything to go back in time, stop his father from seducing his mother. Of course, if he'd been born a human then, he never would have met you in this time.

He looks over at you, blue eyes dark as they rove your form.

He'd helped you undress, helped you wash the blood from your body and settle into comfortable clothes. He'd soothed you into sleep, laying behind you, stroking your hair and whispering comforting words into your ear until the venom finally got the best of you, letting you rest.

He hopes you sleep for a while.

The sun will be up soon, Horror can already feel it's effects. A few hours and he would be resting, however fitful it may be.

He's proud of you, though, for defending yourself against Angelo, for stabbing him with that pen. The fact you had it in you, to attack a demon, it's... amazing.

You're amazing.

Horror wants to treasure you for all eternity.

He wants to keep you in a box, somewhere safe where no one can touch you. He wants to give you anything you want, from jewels to animals, from cars to houses or sweets or just --- anything. You ask, and he will give it to you.

He's guilty, ashamed, and he hasn't felt this way before. He's never been that upset over anything, he's never had a reason to physically fight his brothers, at least not over someone before.

He's never cared.

But he would have died to keep Angelo off of you, and that sort of scares him. He doesn't understand the fierce protectiveness he feels towards you, it confuses him. You're just... you're unlike anyone else he's ever met.

You're sweet, and genuine, and always so helpful. You give him soft giggles and warm kisses, and you make him smile even when he doesn't want too. You might hate your ex and feel vindictive towards him, but you're not that way with other people, you seem to want to help all of them, like those old humans and their diner.

You're... good, in every sense of the word.

And Horror isn't.

Being with him is causing you pain you don't deserve, and that means... well, maybe you shouldn't be around him. He needs to send you away, set you up somewhere you'll be happy and content. He can't see you again, not if it's going to lead to situations like this.

Just the thought though... Horror's pretty sure it breaks his heart.

The pain in his chest, it's deep, sharp and heavy, and squeezing. He raises a shaky hand, pressing it against his skin, shoulders slumping.

Is he... does he....?

No, no that's impossible.

His brothers took centuries, nearly a millenia, to find their mates. He's barely two centuries old, and he doesn't deserve to care about someone like he does you. He doesn't deserve you in general, actually, after what he's done.

He has to send you away, put you somewhere that no demon will ever find you. He'll buy you some kind of animal shelter where you can look after all the little ones you want too, and maybe you'll find someone to spend the rest of your years with.

Someone to love you like they should.

His throat tightens, and he forces his gaze away from you and out the window again. His eyes are burning in an unfamiliar manner, he doesn't like it. How is he supposed to be tough and imposing if he's like this?

He can't be a demon with you here!

He can't!

You have to go, you have too!

"Ricky?" Your soft voice catches him off guard, and he turns hastily, seeing you're awake. You've rolled over onto your side facing him, pushing up onto your elbows as your hair trails down your body.

"You should be resting," he says, immediately going to the bed and pressing one knee into it. "You need to sleep."

"Are you okay?" You ask, ignoring his words as you reach for him, pulling him closer. You tug until he's lying down beside you, dressed in nothing but some green-checked sleeping pants you'd actually gotten him the other day. You like him better when he's dressed down in more casual clothing then his suits.

"I should be asking you that," he mutters, a terseness to his voice that bothers you. You frown at him, and reach forward, brushing his dark hair behind his ear, faint teeth marks still visible on your wrist. You don't hurt anymore, you're just tired; Horror took more of a beating then you did, so it's natural you're concerned for him.

"No, you shouldn't. You were hurt worse." You disagree gently, cupping his pale jaw. He's not meeting your eyes, instead looking at the sheets as he picks at them. "Are you hurting any? Why aren't you resting?"

"I can't sleep until the sun is up, you know that." He shrugs away from you, and you sigh, propping your chin on your hand as you gaze at him.

"It wasn't your fault," you say after a moment, and you finally shuffle, sitting up completely. You're just in a t shirt, and it pools around your thighs as you gaze at him. "You couldn't stop him."

"But I should have been able too!" Horror says, restlessly rising as well. He gets to his feet, pacing back to the window, his hands slipping into his hair. "I should have known better!"

"Ricky, he's a demon, one that's older than you. He hurt you worse then he did me when you came to my rescue." You say, slipping hastily to the edge of the bed. You're feeling a little stronger, your legs aren't shaking anymore. "You saved me."

"No, I let my brother bite you." his voice is bitter. "I can't save anyone."

You bite your lower lip, staring at him; you want to comfort him, get him to listen to you in some way. He did his best, he could have been killed!

"Risking your life for someone, saving them, is what counts. You did what you could, and that was more than enough," you say firmly, and reach forward. Your fingertips brush his hand, he's too far away from you for any other touch. You turn your palm upwards, urging him to take it. "Please, Ricky."

He sighs, and reluctantly his fingers close over yours, letting you pull him back to you. The bed is high, so he steps easily between your knees, they just at his hips. You gaze at him, your hands rising to cup his jaw, wanting him to look at you. The room is dark, moonlight seeping in through the open window, casting a pale glow across both of your skins.

"You saved me," you say firmly, making sure his eyes are on yours. "You saved me, and I'm still right here."

"But he hurt you." His hands rise shakily, closing over your upper arms. "He bit you."

"So? You made sure he regretted it."

Horror isn't so sure.

"But he..."

"Ricky, it doesn't matter now." You shake your head, pulling until his forehead is resting against yours, your arms slipping around his still bruised neck. "Everything is okay now, we're okay. You're safe, and so am I, and ---."

"You'll never be safe so long as you're with me," Horror whispers, cutting you off. You blink, hesitating. "As long as you're with me, you're going to be a target for my brothers, pets always are. Other demons, not in the family, won't mess with you, but they will."

"That can't be helped, nothing is ever perfect." You say before you can stop yourself; you don't know why, but you have no intention of going anywhere. Horror's family is terrible, and it's no wonder he turned out the way he did if they raised him. You don't want him to be alone, and they're certainly not going to run you off, either. "But it's alright, you know. We'll deal with it."

"We?" Horror shakes his head, starting to pull away from you. "I won't put you through that again ---."

"It's not your choice." You tighten your arms on him, refusing to let go. "If I want to stay, that's my decision. And I want too."

"You should be running for the hills."

"I know." You say simply. "But I'm not going too."

"Why not? Why do you want to stay here with me?" Horror stares at you, his heart beating faster against his chest. "You'll get hurt again, because I can't keep you safe, tonight proved that. I can't defend you ---."

"Don't," you cut him off, your eyes on his and refusing to waver; you're honestly not sure why, but you know you're supposed to stay right where you are. You don't want to run, despite it would be in your best interest to do just that. "I don't want you to defend me. I'm not going to live forever, Ricky," you sigh, stroking your fingers through his long hair. "I'm human, and my years are numbered anyway. These are my best ones, and so far, you've made them more enjoyable."

Enjoyable?

He doesn't see how.

His lips tremble.

You lean forward, capturing them in a kiss before he can think of another argument. Your tighten your grip again, and after a moment he responds, deepening the kiss as his hands curl around your waist.

You smell so good, as if he's standing in the Garden of Eden, a paradise. The way your fingers caress his skin, causing shivers to race down his spine, he knows without doubt he can't do without you. He'd be fooling himself if he thought otherwise.

"Ricky," you breathe against his lips, hands drawing down his bare back, smooth and careful. You don't know how hurt he might still be, if his body is sore, and you don't want to make it worse. Your fingers are warm against his cool skin as they curve around his hips, tugging them deeper between your thighs.

You don't want him to think about today, you want to distract him in the only way you know how.

He sighs into your kiss, letting you pull him closer, already sensing what you want from him. His body is responding to what you want before he can stop it, and he lowers you back onto the bed, crawling over your barely-clad form.

Your eyes close as his lips leave yours, leaving butterfly kisses along your jaw, the softest brush of his lips against your skin as they make their way to your neck. He merely kisses you there, you never feel the brush of his teeth as his hand closes around your thigh, drawing it up around his hips as he settles himself between your legs. His fingers brush at the hem of your large t shirt, slipping it up around your waist, out of his way.

"Rosie, love," he murmurs against your throat, guilt pinching his chest a moment as he sees the faint circle of bruises there; he can still smell Angelo on you, despite he washed your skin. He hates the scent, it makes an angry bundle of heat in his chest at the thought of you being touched by anyone else. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," you whisper, gentle fingers tilting his jaw, bringing his eyes back to yours. "Don't ever apologize to me for something that's not your fault."

His heart shatters.

This time when he kisses you, it's fervent, fueled with more emotion then he knows that to do with. His fingers lace in yours as the heat in his chest explodes throughout his entire body, and he pins your hands by your head, his body pressing more into yours.

You wind your legs around his waist, kissing him just as strongly, your tongue parting his lips and causing him to groan; your fingers tighten around his, you love the sounds he makes; Horror enjoys sex, you can always tell. He enjoys every touch, every thrust and brush of your skin against his. It's not just about showing off to him, he wants you to feel just as good as he does during the moment.

It's what always makes it feel so amazing.

Your teeth tug gently at his lower lip, just sharp enough to make his blood race quicker, the pressure against your thigh increasing as he grinds down into you. It's a wonderful friction that makes you shift, arching up into him as you feel that familiar feeling between your legs. He always makes you want him, he always makes sure there's a buildup that has you squirming and begging for his touch.

He cares about your pleasure.

No one else ever has.

You tug at his hands, wanting to touch him, run your nails down his back and pull at his hair just as he likes it. He relents, fingers slipping to caress your outer thighs, his lips heavy and demanding against your own now. Your fingers tangle in his thick hair, tugging gently, your nails raking down his spine to his hips, stopping there to urge him closer.

He makes you feel beautiful, attractive --- he worships every inch of your body, murmurs soft words that make you blush; you don't feel so self-conscious about yourself, you feel pretty and more confident when you go out with him. You're not as uncomfortable in the dresses he picks, because you feel you look good in them.

He makes you feel cared about, loved.

Tom never did that.

He only ever brought you down.

His cold hands are beneath your shirt, and you lift your arms, allowing him to draw it over you head, leaving your bare body for his darkening eyes. His lips are immediately on your naked skin, feathering wet kisses down your shoulders and chest, finally settling over one sensitive breast. Your breath hitches as his tongue curls around one mound, his other hand stroking your side, causing goosebumps to rise along your skin.

Your head falls back, your eyes closing as it feels good. Your body is sore from being tossed around, but he's careful with you, as if he knows exactly where to touch, how to make your breathing hitch.

He's never been like this with you before.

"Ricky," you moan his name, sending electricity racing through his body. His eyes flick up, tongue lazily tracing down your stomach. He know's you're aroused, he can smell it on your skin, sense it through your blood. You're already wanting him and he's barely touched you. He knows you're wet, that your body is craving his touch, but that's the venom.

He's not going to bite you again, he's made up his mind.

He wants your affection for him to be real, for you to mean the words you say. Maybe if your mind isn't clouded, you can make the decision to run or stay.

He wants this to be real.

You groan, fingers going taut in his hair as his lips settle between your thighs; he knows how much you like this, and he loves the taste of you. You're always so responsive, your hips shifting, soft pants leaving those swollen red lips.

It should always be like this for you.

He wants it to be.

"Ricky!" You gasp, your hips suddenly bucking against his delving tongue, the swirling heat in your stomach starting to peak. His arm slips across your hips, holding you down as his tongue continues to dart through your desire, suckling and swirling until you're shuddering, thighs attempting to close instinctively. He almost smirks at how good he is at getting you worked up, one finger slowly slipping inside you, twisting until you let out a loud moan that makes him inhale sharply.

He wants you louder.

"Fuck," you manage, feeling yourself already on the verge, your skin rippling. The tight knot in your lower half is about to snap, your skin flushing, white dots already forming on the edges of your vision. Horror is taking his time, as if knowing exactly you're on the verge and wanting to build it up.

His tongue feels so good inside of you, on your sensitive bud. His fingers are teasing, a second one finally joining the first. He keeps them slow and deep until you're whimpering, jerking at every thrust. Your nails dig into the sheets, fingers knotted and pulling desperately as you writhe, on the peak but unable to go any farther. You're a complete, wet mess, unable to do anything but let him tease you, the tension starting to become too much.

"Ricky, please." You finally whimper, your dilated eyes flashing open. "Please!"

He chuckles slightly, his lips closing around your bundle of nerves and sucking hard. Your hips buck off the bed immediately, and you cry out as that's the final straw, your body losing control. You cum against his lips, just as he wants you too. His arm is like iron across your lower stomach, keeping you against the bed as you shake and shudder in pleasure.

He loves how you sound.

He reluctantly lifts his lips from your body, watching the rise and fall of your chest, how heavy your breathing is. It's going to take you a few moments to come back from that, and he's pleased. He presses his mouth against your trembling inner thigh, giving you time. The hand in his hair is now limp, although his scalp still stings, and he knows his eyes are black.

He's hard, his shaft is aching within the confines of his pants, and he wants nothing more then to ravage you, take you until you're screaming his name over and over. He wants to hear you say it, the name you've given him, whispering it in his ear as he fucks you.

His lips work their way up your body, fingers trailing up your sides until he's propping himself over you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

Your lids flutter, long lashes brushing your cheeks before they open, finding his. You stare into the inky depths hovering over you, and your hands rise, bringing his lips to yours once more. You don't mind how his eyes change, it's just part of who he is. His tongue parts your lips, and you can taste yourself, your hips shifting against his once more.

You can feel how hard he is, how turned on his body is in response to your own. Your hands draw down his sides, curling around the hem of his pants and tugging, slipping them down so he can finish kicking them off. Your fingers dig into his hips, urging them into yours, squirming beneath his hot kisses. You're so ready for him, you want him so badly.

"Ricky," you murmur, feathering your lips along his jaw, his eyes closing at your touch. He digs his nails into the sheets beside your shoulder, trying to control himself. He wants this to be gentle and easy, to not hurt you, but his body is wanting something completely different. He clenches his fist, your hot fingers pulling on him, urging him against you as you squirm.

Fuck!

He reaches between your bodies, catching your swollen bud and making your breath hitch instantly. You moan, nails abruptly digging into his flesh, causing him to shudder over you. You're sensitive right now, you can't help it, and still very wet. Your want for him has only increased, you're throbbing and you can't hold still, not until you have him inside of you.

"Ricky," you breathe in his ear, and his eyes close at the whisper.

How can he control himself when you sound like that?

He groans into your neck, tugging on your hips until they're properly in place beneath him. He catches himself, aligning himself at your soaked entrance. He swallows, already able to feel your heat, your fingers pulling desperately on him.

In one deep thrust, he's inside of you, and the cry that leaves your throat is pure pleasure as he fills you. You shift instantly, pressing into him, grinding your hips until into his until a guttural groan is leaving his throat. You barely hear the shred of sheets as his nails rake into them, as he begins to move inside of you.

You're already tensing, arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his shoulder as he fucks you into the bed, your legs curled around his waist. His lips are on your throat, sucking hard and leaving marks against your skin, his free hand tight around your hip, bringing you up to meet his thrusts, making sure he goes as deep as possible.

You're already panting, sweat gleaming on your moonlit skin as you writhe beneath him, clinging to him. It feels so good to have him inside of you, filling you, taking you higher and higher in your pleasure. Your body is tingling, twitching and squirming, heat flushing and biting your skin.

You feel like heaven, or as close as a demon can get to it. You're hot, squeezing and clamping around his cock until he's groaning into your throat, moving faster, harder and harder until you're gasping. He can't help himself, his body has taken control, his mind going blank except for the need to make you cum around him, for your body to milk the seed out of him. He wants to wash his brothers sent away, make you smell like him, claim you as his own again.

Forever.

"Harder," you suddenly moan, his skin slick against your own. His eyes flash up to yours, lips parting in an almost grin as he complies, thrusting into you at a pace that's impossible to stand. You cum instantly, his lips capturing your shriek as your body takes you by surprise. Your walls clamp around him, your desire flooding forward to cover your thighs and his. He doesn't relent, he continues to move inside of you as you orgasm around him, your climax causing your eyes to roll and head to fall back this time.

That's his good girl.

He shifts, rolling until you're on top of him, your hands bracing onto his shoulders. Your rich dark hair falls to curtain your face as you lean over him, arms shaking. His hands are on your hips, urging you to move, and you do your best, grinding your hips down onto his despite the tremble in your legs. His lips rise to cover your breast, one hand grasping your ass and squeezing.

"Ricky," you groan, your walls flexing around him again. You can still feel the aftershocks of your climax, and already it's building again, threatening to overtake you. It's ridiculous, you shouldn't feel this good, but with Horror it ---. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum," he breathes, fingers tangling in your hair and dragging your swollen lips back to his, his hips rising up to meet yours, the sound of your fucking filling your ears. "Cum on top of me!"

You do, as if on command, you're body immediately quaking. Your nails dig deep into his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood as you nearly scream against his lips.

Fuck, you're amazing! His head falls back as you squeeze his throbbing cock, his skin prickling with heat the longer he keeps going. Still, he's not done, he's not quite there ---. You moan as he forces himself to sit up, causing you to rock back down.

Fuck!

You're shaking against him as you straddle him, your head against his shoulder. You're not sure you can keep going!

"Don't tire out on me yet, love," he says breathlessly, your arms looping around his neck, chest slick as it moves against his. You moan, shuddering as he urges you to move again, the sensitivity of your lower half almost painful at this point. You cling to him, doing your best to move, but letting him take the lead, rocking your hips against his, letting you sink down to the hilt on him over and over.

"Ricky," you moan into his ear, shivering. "Ricky!"

Fuck!

He groans as he hears his name from your panting lips, the sound finally enough to push him over the edge. He shudders, his arms curling tightly around you as your body squeezes him, finally reaching his own release. You sigh as you feel him cum inside of you, flooding your body with heat, filling you and claiming you as his own once more.

He can't smell his brother on you at all now.

All he can smell is himself and sex, the scent potent as he holds you against him tightly, refusing to let go of you just yet.

Your fingers lightly caress the hair at the nape of his neck as you rest your face against his shoulder, breathing hard. You're too hot, your skin is prickling, but you don't want to move. You're content curled around him like this, wrapped around his body, him still inside of you. You know the two of you have made a mess of the sheets, you can see where his nails shredded them down to the mattress.

It doesn't matter.

"Are you alright?" He asks after a moment, leaning back on one arm, your full weight on him. You nod your head, pressing your lips lightly into his throat.

"Mhmhmm."

He smiles slightly, liking the soft stroking of his hair.

It should always be this way with you, you should always feel good during sex, you should always be worshiped.

He leans back, just enough to see your face, his fingers rising to caress your flushed cheek. Your eyes are half-closed, dilated, and your lips are full from his rough kisses. You give him a slight smile, leaning forward to lightly brush your mouth against his own.

He thinks he loves you.

Tags: @isaxhorror @lucifersnudes @allthepeppercorn. @iknightwriter. @miss-mcbotty. @my-gothic-doctor. @little-h0rr0r @imaginemiw. @lilybellsworldchris miw@deepeststarlightemo @imaginemiw @bigdaddyfairywinkle @riegan @lucifersnudes @horrorshow365 @imjustareject99 @nikkihorrorxx @miss-evil-one @itstrashleydude. @kapowski-sitkowski. @the-angriest-angel @tokyoghoulyz

#ricky horror #ricky horror smut #ricky horror imagine #miw #ricky horror au #fairies #fairy blood #demons #demon #witches #demon and witches #demon x fairy #demon lover #demon love story #hellhounds

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afjakwritesarchive · 7 years ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where... there is lots of emotional or physical pain and suffering, but with a cute usuk end to make hearts melt.

Anon, how did you know I was waiting for an excuse to write a fic like this? Hope you like this! :) Also, sorry this is so late!!

Title: KidnappedPairing: USUKRating: T (descriptions of violence ahead!)AU: Human, Undercover cop!ArthurGenre: Angst, romanceSummary: Arthur is desperate to save Alfred after he is kidnapped. A/N: Sorry for all the inaccuracies. For the purpose of fun angsty USUK, please overlook them!

Arthur had been sipping tea and looking over case files when he'd gotten a text from an unknown number. The message, containing only the words 'You'll want to see this', was a link to a livestream on a website unfamiliar to the Brit. At first, he'd been confused. The stream, which seemed to be filmed from a camera situated in a corner toward the ceiling, displayed an empty room. However, after staring at the sparse room for twenty seconds, there was a sudden commotion. Arthur watched his phone screen in horror as someone, tied to a chair and with a black bag over their head, was suddenly dragged into the room by a masked figure clothed entirely in black. He'd immediately leapt from his seat and rushed to the tech room, using his phone's mirroring feature to project his screen onto the TV.

The figure who brought the captive in left the room. While his department's resident tech expert Ivan Braginsky tried to track the number, Arthur watched as the unidentified captive strained against thick, unyeilding ropes. The ropes had been wrapped around the person's arms, tied at the wrists, and secured to the back of the chair. Ropes had also wound underneath the seat of the chair and over the person's thighs, effectively gluing them to their seat. Both of their ankles had been secured to the two front legs of the chair, leaving them completely immobile and defenseless.

The door onscreen opened once more. Arthur let out a sharp cry of outrage, drawing the attention of several more people in the room. At the sight of the man who had entered, cries of shock rang throughout the room.

"Get the chief, now!" Arthur hollered to one of his coworkers. "Someone record this!"

Within a minute, every officer currently at the station had swarmed in the tech department, crowding around the television.

"Hello, officer Kirkland!" Came a low, sing-song voice from the screen. The man who had walked in was now sauntering toward the camera, looking up at it with a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, I wish this were a skype call so I could see your pretty face looking shocked—I'm sure it's just perfect."

Arthur grit his teeth, green eyes narrowed and hatred burning within them as he stared at the man. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"How did he find you out?!" Cried one of Arthur's coworkers, Elizaveta. Like Arthur, she had been assigned to go undercover in order to infiltrate one of the city's largest drug dealers, and stared in awe at the image of the man himself on the screen.

Arthur gave no reply, hyper focused on the screen.

"Do you like the theatrics? I figured you would, considering how much you like acting." The man joked, a reference to the Brit's time undercover. He grinned as he turned around, leisurely striding toward the captive. He reached forward, pulling the bag away from their head with a flourish.

Arthur immediately let out a cry of shock, clamping a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming out as he watched the most dangerous man in the city pluck a pair of noise-cancelling headphones off of the love of his life.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Were the first words out of Alfred's mouth once the headphones were off.

"Oh, my. A gorgeous face ruined by extremely poor manners. You know, typically you introduce yourself before you begin to scream profanities at someone." Said the man, grinning happily at Alfred.

"Yeah, well, typically you don't tie someone up until the third date!" Spat Alfred sarcastically. "Who the fuck are you?"

The man in front of him fixed Alfred with a faux pout. "You don't recognize me? Gilbert Beilshmidt, the devilishly handsome and dangerously charming millionaire?"

Alfred's jaw fell open in shock, staring at the man before him in awe.

"Oh, so you do know me!" Gilbert said with a laugh. "Well, now that I've been introduced, it's your turn. Correct me if I'm wrong: You're Alfred Jones, twenty-six years old, six-foot-four, one-hundred eighty-five pounds, half-brother to Matthew Williams, and you live on Liberty Street in an apartment with your cat, Hero."

Alfred glared harshly at the man, squirming some in his seat. "What do you want with me? You're not an idiot. You know I don't have any info that you need."

Gilbert leaned forward until he was face-to-face with the American, leering at him. "You're right. You don't have any information at all. But you are leverage. Someone—and I won't say who, because that would ruin my awesome fun—is both close to you and my case. I thought it could be fun to make them squirm a little by taking you."

Alfred's face twisted into an enraged frown, brows pulled together and bright eyes narrowed. "Dude, that's fucked up."

"That's the point," Gilbert replied. "Now, let's try something: I'm going to ask you some questions, Alfred. If you refuse to answer or lie to me, I'll hit you. Make sense?"

"Sure," Alfred grumbled, glaring at the man as he stepped back.

Gilbert clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels as he spoke. "Alfred, are you married?"

"Shouldn't you already know that?" Alfred snapped.

Immediately, Gilbert raised his palm, striking the American harshly across the face. Arthur's hands came to his mouth, muffling a sudden cry of shock and outrage as he watched the American's head jerk to the side from the force of the hit. After a moment, Alfred raised his head and fixed Gilbert with a harsh glare, his cheek still red where the man had hit him.

"What the hell was that for?!" Alfred cried.

"You know, for someone in your position, I think it would be rather obvious that you shouldn't speak to me that way." Gilbert said coolly before smacking the American once more.

"Fuck you," Alfred spat out. "Hit me as many times as you want. I'm not gonna answer your dumbass fucking questions."

"No?" Gilbert questioned, leaning forward again.

"No." Alfred said with a resolute nod.

"Hm," Gilbert hummed in consideration, suddenly inching closer. He moved to straddle Alfred, settling himself over the American's bound thighs with a devious smile. "You know, Alfred, I know a lot about you. There was a reason I picked you rather than any of the others I could have."

Alfred turned his head away from Gilbert, chest heaving as if the anger within him was trying to break free.

"Don't ignore me," Gilbert purred, his tone low. He took Alfred's chin very gently in a pale hand, guiding the blond's eyes to meet his.

Arthur growled, fists formed at his sides as he watched the exchange. The rage within him was unparalleled; the longer he watched Gilbert touch Alfred, the more the fire within him burned, and the more compelled he felt to bash the TV screen in, if only to rid himself of the horrifying image upon the screen.

"Listen to me very carefully, Alfred: I know everything. I do my research. I know you have secrets that not even your closest friends know. That not even Arthur know."

Alfred stiffened, glaring harshly at the man. "Leave Arthur out of this. Whatever sick game you're playing, he's not involved."

Arthur felt a pang in his heart at the American's words, so steely and sure. Several of his coworkers turned to glance at him, pitying expressions on their faces at the sight of the hurt on his own. Oh, if only Alfred knew... If only he knew that not only was he involved in the game, but that he was a crucial player, Gilbert's main opponent. How would he react knowing that it was all Arthur's fault he'd gotten kidnapped, that the facade his best friend had kept up for years was all a lie? What would he say when he found out that Arthur wasn't a librarian, but an undercover agent in charge of a case for one of the most dangerous criminals in the city?

"Perhaps so, but I find it a little unfair that there's so much of your life you haven't told him. Does he know about your parents, Alfred? The night you ran away from him? All the foster homes you moved in and out of?"

Arthur's jaw tightened. He did know—after a night of particularly heavy drinking, Alfred had let some of the details of his childhood slip. The next morning, Arthur had brought it up, and Alfred had explained heartwrenching story. Around tears, he'd detailed the abuse of his monstrous parents, his escape, how he'd lived hopping couch to couch for almost six months until, at the tender age of fourteen, he'd been taken in by the state and circulated through various foster homes until adulthood. Knowing this, and seeing Gilbert use the blond's unpleasant past as bait, enraged him beyond belief.

"He already knows all that," Alfred said, gritting his teeth.

"Oh?" Gilbert said, quirking a brow. "What about Janie, Alfred? Does Arthur know anything about that?"

Alfred fumed, nostrils flaring. "Shut up." He hissed.

"It's a shame, what happened. You escaped one abusive household, and before five years had passed, you'd moved into a house where another was soon to start. You trusted her, didn't you, Alfred? You didn't think she could ever hurt you."

"Shut up!" Alfred yelled, struggling against his bonds.

"What was your breaking point with her, Alfred? How many times did she apologize to you before you realized she didn't mean it?"

Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers, watching the screen rapturously. Whatever Gilbert was alluding to was obviously upsetting Alfred, and it made him fume. More than that, though, he was unbelievably concerned. Alfred had never mentioned anything about someone named Janie, nor any type of abusive relationship, but if Gilbert knew about it, it meant that there had been some record of it. Dread settled in the pit of Arthur stomach. If there were any records of it, it usually meant that it had been severe enough for Alfred to either press charges or seek some type of therapy.

Gilbert leaned in closer, pressing his lips against the American's cheek. When he pulled back, he smiled a sinister smile and reached out, caressing the American's cheek. "How many times did she do this to you before you fought back?"

Arthur watched in horror as the man's other hand snaked downward, settling at Alfred's thigh for a moment. He massaged the area briefly, eyes on the American's now horrified face. Once the blond's breaths had quickened considerably and he began to see true panic set in, he pushed his hand between the American's bound thighs.

"Don't," Alfred breathed, his voice shaky.

"Get the fuck off of him!" Arthur roared at the TV. Elizaveta reached out, resting a hand at his shoulder and fixing him with a sympathetic frown.

"Why not? What's wrong, Alfred?" Gilbert asked teasingly.

"Get away from me," Alfred growled, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"But you look so cute when you're afraid! I stole the records from your therapy sessions, you know. She wrote that you were afraid afterward. That you didn't want anyone to touch you. Is that still true? Does it scare you to have me touch you this way?"

"Stop," Alfred said, his voice weaker now.

"Beg me." Gilbert commanded, leaning in.

Alfred's plush lips parted and he took in a breath to speak, only to have the breath stolen from him when the man atop of him suddenly pressed their lips together. Alfred let out a muffled cry of surprise and squirmed in his bonds, shaking his head in order to get the man off of him.

"My, you really are afraid!" Gilbert exclaimed with a laugh. "All you have to do is ask me to stop and I will, Alfred."

"I have a location!" Ivan, an agent on the tech team suddenly cried, breaking all of the agents in the room away from the screen.

"They made it too easy to find them. They have something planned. We need to get there as soon as possible." Elizaveta said urgently.

"We need to go now." Arthur growled.

Green eyes flitted back to the screen, his thick brows pulled downward. Alfred was visibly trembling, the word 'please' falling from his lips repeatedly. Gilbert's face was obscured, his head bent. Arthur fumed; he was kissing Alfred's neck. The mere sight of it made Arthur's heart burn.

"I'll kill him." Arthur seethed.

Elizaveta handed him a bulletproof vest, which Arthur shrugged into without ever taking his eyes off the screen. His team was ready to go within two minutes, and they sped to the source of the crime in a hurry. As the Brit expected, it lead them somewhere that was completely inconspicuous on the outside; an empty building on the outskirts of town, once a hair salon that had gone out of business two months earlier. The windows were boarded up, and the door locked. Elizaveta had to kick it in to enter, and several agents spilled in with their guns raised. After a quick search of the premises, a staircase was found, and the Brit lead the team down the concrete steps.

Immediately, his mouth fell open in shock. At the bottom of the steps, a hallway stretched on in either direction, up until a corner at the end of each. Numerous doors were situated on each side of the hallway, and Arthur scowled.

"Start searching." He commanded, nodding to his team. Several agents started forward, only for a sudden voice to appear, playing from speakers embedded into the walls.

"Go down the hallway you're facing right now, Arthur. Take two lefts. Fourth door on your right." The voice of Gilbert purred.

Unthinking, Arthur immediately followed his instructions and dashed down the hall, Elizaveta close behind and urgently calling his name.

"What if it's a trap?!" She called, catching up to the Brit as he sprinted down the hall and took the first turn.

"I don't fucking care!" Arthur exclaimed. "I have to find him!"

"Arthur, wait!" Elizaveta called, following him around the second corner.

Arthur rushed to the instructed door, wasting no time before raising his foot. He kicked it twice before it succumbed to the force, swinging inward. Immediately, his eyes went wide in horror and all the blood drained from his face.

Gilbert stood in the center of the room, Alfred directly in front of him. One of Gilbert's arms was wrapped around his waist, his fingers roaming underneath the American's now half unbuttoned shirt. His other hand held a gun, the barrel of which was currently buried in Alfred's golden hair. Ropes still encircled the length of Alfred's arms, securing them behind his back. To Arthur's anger, the state of the American's clothing gave the impression of a hurried dressing after a hookup; his pants unbuttoned and unzipped at the front, his shirt half-unbuttoned. His hair was a mess, blood flowed in two neat lines from his mouth and nose, and tracks of tears were clearly visible upon his lightly freckled cheeks.

"Take one step closer and I'll shoot him," Gilbert said, his casual tone infuriating Arthur.

"Arthur!" Alfred cried, eyes widening to the size of saucers at the sight of the man. His eyes flitted over the Brit's ensemble and then back into his face, his eyes shining with surprise. "You're a cop?"

"More than just a cop," Gilbert purred, pressing his lips to the American's cheek. "He's an agent. Been undercover for two years."

"What do you want, Gilbert?" Arthur demanded.

"I don't want anything. You and your team has been a pain in the ass—I figured that I should return the favor, and what better way to do it than with him? It wasn't that hard to figure out, Kirkland. Everywhere I turned for information on you, someone mentioned Alfred and the rumors that you loved him."

Arthur's eyes flitted briefly to Alfred's face. The American's shoulders had slumped, an expression of shock set upon his handsome face. Arthur felt his cheeks reddening despite himself, and he fixed his eyes back unto Gilbert's face as the man spoke.

"I was going to kill him at first, but it seems like a lot of fun to watch you squirm over him. Maybe I should keep him around a little bit and see what I can get you to do." Gilbert suggested with a sickening smile. "Drop your gun, Arthur." He commanded.

Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. "You know I can't do that," he said, his words slow and deliberate.

Gilbert tilted his head to the side in mock confusion. "That's funny, I thought you cared about him." He said before suddenly taking Alfred's shoulders.

He whipped the American around to face him and, much to Arthur's disdain, pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Then, with a dull thud, Gilbert had smacked gun against the side of Alfred's head full force, the American falling the floor with the force of the hit. Arthur yelled in outrage, leaping forward to come to Alfred's aid. However, when Gilbert aimed the gun at his friend once more, he froze in place and looked to Gilbert angrily.

"I told you to put the gun down," Gilbert said, gazing fixedly into Arthur's face.

"No!" Alfred cried suddenly, leaping forward.

Gilbert cried out in shock as his captive suddenly plowed into him, sending them both the floor. He crashed into the concrete on his back, Alfred atop of him with his arms still bound behind his back.

"You fucking dick!" Gilbert shouted angrily, realizing that the American had knocked the gun out of his hand, where it had slid across the floor and against a wall.

As Gilbert struggled to push Alfred off of him, he watched Arthur race to the gun and quickly apprehend it. The Brit then sauntered forward, grinning triumphantly. Elizaveta dashed into the room, blood dripping from her lip, and let out a cry of happiness. She pulled her own gun from her holster and aimed at Gilbert.

"Go take care of him, Arthur. I got this," she said, nodding in the direction of Alfred.

Arthur nodded and leaned forward, quickly lifting the American off of Gilbert and to his feet, immediately tugging the blond into his arms.

"God, I'm so glad you're alright," Arthur sighed, pulling back and ushering the American out the door.

Alfred stumbled on his feet as they walked out, brows furrowing. "H-Hey," he murmured, "I... My head feels weird," he told the Brit.

"What?" Arthur asked. "Your head feels—Oh! Shit, you need a doctor!" He exclaimed, suddenly remembering the hit from the gun Alfred had endured.

Alfred nodded, looking up. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed on his feet. Arthur put a steadying arm behind him, helping him to walk. "Hey, Artie?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked as he helped Alfred through the exit, supporting the majority of the American's body by this point.

"You're not gonna bust me for the pot I smoked, are ya?" Alfred asked, speech slightly slurred.

A laugh bubbled in Arthur's throat and he opened his mouth to reply when Alfred's eyelids fluttered and he dropped backward, unconscious.

Alfred woke to the beep of a heart monitor and a hand squeezing his.

"Woah," he groaned aloud, squeezing his eyes shut once before allowing them to open.

"Alfred!" Exclaimed a familiar voice, making the American jolt. The hand in his squeezed tighter, and he heard the rustling of paper to his left side.

The American turned his head, watching as his best friend tossed a magazine off of his lap and stood up, hovering over him with a bright smile.

"Hey, Artie," Alfred greeted, surprised by the roughness of his voice.

"How do you feel, love?" Arthur questioned urgently, leaning over him with his thick brows furrowed in concern.

"My head fucking hurts," the American replied with a chuckle. "That bastard really fucking pistol whipped me, huh? I thought people only did that in movies."

Arthur frowned, very gently carding his fingers through the blond's golden hair. "I'm afraid he did," he murmured. "I'm so sorry, Alfred. This was all my fault. You had a concussion. Well, you still do, but before it was... God, I'm so fucking sorry. I can't even begin to tell you how terrible I feel."

Alfred blinked up at him, surprised. "Hey, it's not like you kidnapped me or something. You were there to help me."

"I know, I know. But I should have just put the gun down. I... I thought he'd hurt you more if he knew I was defenseless, but it was unfair call to make. I should have never put you in jeopardy, not even for a second. I was gambling with your life."

"I'm okay, aren't I?" Alfred said, a reassuring smile on his face. "Besides, it wasn't all bad."

Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What about that situation could possibly be good?"

"He was a pretty good kisser." Alfred joked. At the glare he received from Arthur, he laughed. "Okay, okay, not funny. I meant that it wasn't all bad because I got to watch you get all flustered and blushy in the middle of a crime scene, and all 'cause Gilbert said you loved me."

Arthur cursed himself when his green eyes went wide, his face involuntarily blooming red at the comment.

"I was pretty flattered, yanno. If everyone he talked to knew, that means that you're either so stupidly in love with me that it's obvious to everyone who sees you, or that you gush about me to everyone you meet. Either way, I thought it was pretty great." Alfred teased with a winning smile.

"Do you want another concussion?" Arthur threatened as he released Alfred's hand, turning away.

Alfred let out a cry of protest and hurriedly sat up, immediately wincing in pain. Arthur whipped around and immediately began to scold the American, helping him to lay down again.

Alfred looked to his friend once the pain had dulled down to the familiar ache at the side of his skull. "I wasn't making fun of you, you know. I was really happy to hear it."

The Brit folded his arms across his chest, huffing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm glad you love me, 'cause I love you too and I'm kinda sick of pretending I don't." Alfred said with a grin.

Arthur kissed him.

#Anonymous #my writing #aph #usuk #hetalia #kidnapping #cop arthur #alfred gets kidnapped #i love damsel in distress alfred tbh #aph fic #usuk fic

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