#i’ll HAVE TO go outside because of errands and various shit just like always | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

retrievablememories · 4 years ago

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a strange love | yuta (m)

title: a strange love pairing: alien!yuta x black!reader genre: sci-fi/fantasy, fluff, angst, smut request: “I read a good chunk of your NCT work and really liked them. Would I be able to request a fic where a black female reader meets an alien (can be Yuta or Jungwoo) and they're both coming to terms that they're attracted to each other and have to come to terms with being attracted to someone of a different species? Can be smutty and don't be afraid to give the alien a less human biology if you don't mind.” word count: 13.1k warnings: alcohol use, cursing, near drowning experience, lots of mentions of water so this one might not mesh well with people w/ aquaphobia, non-human biology/body horror, extraterrestrial sex, lots of cum, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle dick, unprotected sex, creampie, please heed the warnings because this is an alien smutfic lmao a/n: giving the shape of water teas. i’ve actually never seen that movie 😕 but i will at some point. forgive me in advance for the nerdy references in here.

It’s funny how things happen when you least expect it. You never would’ve thought you’d be sound asleep when your entire world changed.

The night the UFO crashes in your city, you’re awoken by the tremors of its landing. The vibrations feel akin to an earthquake, and they make picture frames and other trinkets fall off your shelves and hit the floor in a clatter of noise. You jump up from your pillow at the racket, your heart pounding. You glance at the things lying on your floor and quickly register that the room—your entire home—is trembling.

There’s not much you can do at this point but ride it out, so you huddle down in your covers and hope the roof doesn’t cave in on your head. To your knowledge, your particular area isn’t known for earthquakes, which makes all of this even stranger. What could be causing one now? Is the world finally ending?

Eventually, the tremors stop. By now, your shelves have been emptied of nearly all their contents, but you’re still alive, which you’re grateful for. You wait a few more minutes to see if the shakes will begin again, but they don’t, so you climb out from the warmth of your covers to clean up your floor.

Police and ambulance sirens start blaring through the city not long after you get out of bed. That’s nothing unusual; there are usually injuries and casualties with natural disasters like these, and you expect many poor souls will be needing rescue tonight. You sigh and look at your closed blinds, watching them be sporadically illuminated by the lights of the emergency vehicles rushing past.

Once you’ve cleaned up your room and gotten back in bed, you think about checking social media for what people have been saying about the quake. There’s no doubt that the city’s residents have taken to Twitter and Instagram to document it. However, your eyelids are already starting to droop, and you’d probably fall asleep in the middle of scrolling, so you decide to tuck in and wait until morning.

Waking up the next day almost seems like a normal Sunday until you look at your blinds again and are suddenly reminded of last night’s flashing lights. Right. The earthquake. Throwing the covers back, you stumble out of bed to turn on your TV. You flip through the channels until you find a news station for your local area. You go to open the blinds, keeping your ears open for reports on the earthquake.

“Last night, we experienced unprecedented seismic activity throughout the majority of the city, caused by what appears to be an unidentified flying object, otherwise known as a UFO—”

Huh?

You turn to the TV, thinking this must be some kind of ridiculous hoax. You get ready to reach for the remote, thinking you must have turned it to one of those parody news channels by accident, but you freeze at what you see. Video footage of the city center—or what used to be the city center—plays on the screen. In place of the large historical monument that used to stand there, there’s a huge...silver and black spaceship. Or at least you think it’s a ship. It apparently sustained major damage in the landing, and now it looks more like a hunk of melted metal. The area around it has been blasted clear in every direction. Instead of green grass and pavement, there’s nothing but dirt.

The area is blocked off with yellow tape, though hundreds of people have gathered at the location to check out the object and take pictures and videos of it.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to yourself.

“We’re currently unsure where this UFO originated from, though we can confirm that it is not affiliated with any aircraft fleets owned by the U.S. military. Researchers and scientists from top universities across the country are being called in to assist in identifying this craft…”

“There’s no just way,” you mutter, grabbing your shower cap and pulling clothes out of your closet for your morning shower. “A UFO...guess that alien invasion is coming sooner than we thought.” You would like to believe it’s all just someone playing a terrible prank, but pulling off this level of theatrics is impossible.

After you get out of the shower and start making breakfast for yourself, you get a text from one of your coworkers, Alex.

10:30 A.M. Alex🍸 You seeing this shit on the news right now?

10:31 A.M. Obviously! It’s fucking wild. Do you really think it’s true? OR some elaborate government hoax? Anything’s possible. I’m betting “true,” but...

10:33 A.M. Alex🍸 I honestly don’t know. that’s why me and some of the others from work are about to head over there now. Wanna come?

10:34 A.M. The hell! I’ll pass. There could be all types of radiation n shit, I’m not tryna turn into the Green Lantern or the Hulk or somebody.

10:35 A.M. Alex🍸 lmFAO. Suit ypurself. If I gain superpowers don’t be surprised if I fly over to your house today.

10:35 A.M. You’re a mess. 💀

You spend breakfast watching more news reports and scrolling through Twitter feeds for firsthand information. People who visited the site, including your coworkers, have uploaded pictures of the UFO from various angles, inciting a frenzy of conspiracy theories and warnings that the world is about to end.

You don’t know what to make of the situation, but it stays on your mind throughout the day as you leave the house and go about completing your usual errands. The city center has been blocked off to all vehicles other than those belonging to people who’ve been called in to help, which means that traffic is sky-high everywhere else—even for a Sunday.

Sitting in a mishmash of cars, you roll down your window and sigh, looking out at the red traffic lights, and beyond that to the horizon. Things are about to get very weird for the next few weeks. Maybe months. You can only hope you’re prepared for it.

You don’t know why, but the air seems strange tonight.

It’s been 2 days since the UFO crashed. There haven’t been many more answers apart from what everyone already knows due to the ship’s destroyed state. The city has professionals out for that sort of thing, but they’re taking their sweet time analyzing the ship—though you can’t really blame them. Jumping straight into unknown alien tech seems like a death wish.

Your life has been pretty much the same as usual, though you know a few people at work who have been more directly affected by the events. One girl, Sooyoung, who lives in the neighborhood near the crash site claims the officials are thinking about having that entire area evacuate, though you don’t know why they’re beating around the bush about it if it’s true. Whatever radiation or chemicals they’re worried about has probably already leached into all the surrounding homes, and now you’re just waiting for someone to walk into your workplace with antlers or purple skin.

Admittedly, you’re morbidly curious about the case and what all of this could mean for Earth’s future, but you keep your fascination lowkey. You don’t need any of your coworkers thinking you’re the next alien-obsessed Mulder from X-Files. But then again, you’re not curious enough to visit the actual scene, so maybe you’re not the crazy one here.

You feel fine when you get home from work that day, but as you get washed up and settle into your usual evening routine, you can’t shake the eeriness gripping your subconscious. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, either, just...foreign. Like an emotion you’ve never felt before, though you didn’t know there were even still new emotions to discover. Shaking your head, you figure maybe you should lay off the alien stuff for the rest of the week.

Before you head to bed that night, you go around the house making sure all the doors and windows are locked as you normally do. You pause at the backdoor for a reason you can’t explain, and the strange feeling grows stronger. At this point, you’re a bit frightened about what this is all about, but you can’t go to sleep without knowing. Curiosity takes over as you open the blinds and stare into the darkness of your backyard.

You don’t see anything right away. There are trees, bushes, your potted plants, and lawn chairs...everything looks normal. It’s only when you lean closer to the glass to squint that you see a figure lying in the grass. You jump once you catch sight of it, terrified that some monster or murderer has found their way onto your property. There was nothing there earlier when you closed the blinds, so whoever or whatever it is must’ve recently showed up.

You’re about ready to dial 911 when you realize the figure is curled in the fetal position and unmoving...almost like they’re unconscious. Or dead.

This is ridiculous. You feel like one of those people who always dies first in the horror movies because they went into the room the killer was obviously hiding in, but you’re overcome with the strong impulse to step outside. You grip the doorknob tightly, debating whether you should unlock it or not.

“...Fuck. Don’t let me regret this.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, the device serving as your flashlight. There’s still the screen door to get through, which you pause at for a moment. The figure remains unmoving even with the sound of the door opening.

“Hello?!” You call out to the individual, but there’s no response. Your phone’s light can’t reach them from there, which forces you to open the screen door and step out onto the porch. They’re still feet away, but from this closer distance, it seems like they’re wearing a sort of armor or full-body suit...maybe like a cosplay?

“Hope this isn’t some weirdo weeb passed out on my lawn…” you mutter, cautiously stepping onto the grass. As you approach, you can see now that the figure is likely male, though their back is to you so you can’t be totally sure. “Um, hello there? Can you hear me?” No response.

By now, you are only a few feet away from them. The person looks to be an Asian guy, with long blonde hair haloing his face. His features are angular and smooth, and he is indeed wearing some kind of body armor, its color unlike anything you’ve seen. Instead of being all one hue or even a few, it reflects the light from your phone and glows with a rainbow-like phosphorescence. The material itself looks translucent, but you can’t see through it; it creates a mind-bending optical illusion.

Your stomach suddenly drops to your feet. Is this who was in that UFO in the city center? It seems too out-there to be true, but your intuition is telling you otherwise. This can’t be fucking real.

You kneel on the wet grass next to the man and try to look for signs of life. You can hear his breathing, so he’s thankfully not dead. But he doesn’t look to be in good shape, either. He definitely won’t be able to get up on his own; he probably used the last of his energy to drag himself into your yard.

“Damn.” You turn the flashlight off and slip your phone into your sweatpants pocket. It seems like there’s no other options right now. You could call the police, but they’d probably accuse you of being in cahoots with this weird dude and drag you off to jail. Or they could cart him off for government experimentation, which sounds equally terrible. So with those things in mind, you gently maneuver his upper body until you’re able to hook your arms under his armpits and drag him towards your house.

You just really hope none of your nosy neighbors are seeing this right now.

He’s surprisingly light, and you get him inside the house fairly quickly. Once you’ve locked the door again, you pull him over to the living room so he’s propped against your couch. He still isn’t fully conscious, but his head and lips move as if he’s dreaming about something.

“What was that…?” You lean closer, trying to read his lips for some sort of clue. Surprisingly, you can make out the word water, which he mouths over and over again. “Water…” You run into the kitchen to pour a glass and bring it back to him, making sure not to spill any on the way over.

You press it to his lips, unsure if he’ll be able to drink, but to your amazement his muscles respond and he drinks quickly as you tip the glass. Soon, the water is all gone. You set the glass to the side with your palms sweating and watch as his face flutters even more.

“Can you...hear me?”

His eyes open only slightly. This movement seems to cause him some pain, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe he has a headache since he was dehydrated? You scramble to turn the overhead light off, not wanting to make matters worse. He still doesn’t try to open his eyes any wider, though.

“Who are you? Were you...did you crash here?” You feel a little bad about asking so many questions, but you’re dying for answers as to what the hell is going on.

The man licks his lips, and his mouth parts like he’s going to answer. But his throat is still dry, and it hurts to talk.

“...Shit.” You get him another glass of water and let him drink until it’s gone again. He seems a little better after that.

“Th-this...” He clears his throat a couple times and tries again. “This is E-Earth, right?”

Now you’re the one lost for words. Although you already figured he couldn’t be from here, hearing it out loud makes your blood rush and your heart race. “Um, yes...this is Earth. Was...the UFO yours?”

He sighs, and his head falls back against the couch arm. “Yes.”

“It’s destroyed,” you say, and then feel silly about it. “But you already know that.”

He doesn’t answer that. He just slowly glances around your living room instead, looking as if he’s never seen a stranger setup. The quietness is awkward, and you almost feel like he must be judging your taste for interior design. “Do you have a name?”

More silence. You decide he probably won’t answer until he finally says, “You can call me Yuta.”

“Yuta.” You tell him your name too, and he just nods, almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t say much without prompting, which makes it hard for you to know how to approach the situation. You don’t want to overwhelm him with questions, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to speak unless you do. “How did you end up here? I mean, in my—uh, my yard?”

Yuta shakes his head and then winces. “I crashed, and then...I just ran. The ship was melting. I just ran. I hid...I went from place to place, hiding. Don’t know how I got here.”

You wonder how he made it all the way from the city center to your home without being spotted, especially with that armor. You can only conclude that he must be stealth at hiding. Or maybe someone did spot him and the feds are about to bust down your door any minute. You take a shaky breath and try to push that anxious thought to the back of your mind.

Suddenly Yuta fixes you with a suspicious glare. “Will you reveal that I’m here?”

You try not to get offended, because you’d honestly be thinking the same if you were a newly-landed alien in a foreign land. “No. I don’t have any reason to do that. I just want to help. I’m not looking to be on anyone’s 6 o’clock news or cheap tabloid. You probably don’t believe me, but you can have my word for it...if that means anything to you.”

He’s quiet again, though you can tell he’s still skeptical.

“Um, do you need anything? More water?”

He sits up straighter at the mention of that. “Water.” You reach for the glass again, but he frowns. “Not that. I need…something more than that.” He looks around again, but when he doesn't see what he’s searching for, he attempts to stand only to slump down again.

“Slow down there, I don’t think you’re gonna make it like that. Can I help?”

You end up slinging his arm across your shoulder and letting him lean his body against you while you lead him to the bathroom. That’s the biggest source of water in the house, and you assume he must be wanting a bath or shower or something. Even aliens have their hygiene needs, you guess.

You turn the bathroom light on and have Yuta sit on the toilet lid as you turn the bathtub faucet. “Is...this what you meant?” He nods, and you put the plug in and let the tub fill up.

“Just water. Nothing else. I need to recharge,” he says, and before you can ask what he means by that, he starts undressing in front of you.

At first, your reaction is delayed; you’re struck with surprise when you realize the armor isn’t actually a whole bodysuit, but more like...connected panels of material that can be taken off. You don’t understand the material at all, it doesn’t resemble anything on Earth you can think of—but of course, it’s alien tech. It conforms to his body as he’s wearing it but takes on a more rigid form once it’s peeled off, like actual armor.

Then, he gets ready to take the bottoms off and something finally clicks in your brain that oh my God he’s about to get naked in front of me.

“Whoa!” You spin around and cover your eyes for good measure, glad that your brown skin hides the way your face is burning right now. You step towards the open door. “Uh, I’ll just leave, sorry—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, what?”

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” Yuta says, pulling the last of his suit off. He steps into the tub and sits down in it, putting his hands underneath the stream of water rushing out of the faucet. The skin on his hands seems to ripple, like it’s readjusting itself, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck at that. You forget to be embarrassed at his unclothed state as you watch it happen.

“What’s going on with that? And why did you need the water?”

Yuta splashes his face before answering, and he turns to look at you, the droplets of water sliding off the ends of his hair. “I’m part of a Water Race. Water is my home. Our bodies have adapted to be built for living in water, and it’s dangerous to be without it for too long.”

“Adaptation? But you look like a regular human.”

“It’s just a skin.”

“A skin?” You echo in horror, a sudden flashback to Silence of the Lambs popping into your mind. “Someone else’s skin?”

Yuta gives you a look that seems to say he can’t believe you’re asking such a stupid question. “No, it’s my skin. It’s just not my natural form.” To prove his point, he holds his hand out, and right before your eyes his human skin pulls back and morphs into something much more scaly and green. His fingers are actually more like talons, with long black nails on the ends, and there’s translucent webbing between each one.

You gasp and step back, trying to catch your breath at the sight of something so very not human. The skin reforms around his hand—you assume he has to be willing it with his mind somehow, because he doesn’t even move—and his digits look just as human as ever.

“How the hell do you hide your nails under there? Isn’t it just like...wearing a bodysuit?”

Yuta shakes his head. “No. Once the skin is on, it becomes...part of me. My hand becomes a human hand. I’m not hiding anything, it just is. It’s hard to explain.”

“Have you been to Earth before? Is that why you have a human skin, because...adaptation or some shit? This is all so wild.”

“I can shift into different skins if I want, if I gather enough genetic information on certain species’ inhabitants...but there are limitations.” That doesn’t exactly answer your question, but you figure maybe it’s best if you didn’t know. You can at least assume he’s been in contact with humans before.

“I see…” You fidget for a few seconds before speaking what’s on your mind. “Okay, one last thing...you said there are limitations. Does that mean you can’t transform into, like...a dung beetle or something?”

Yuta gives you another are you serious look and you put your hands up. “Just wondering. It was worth a try.”

You feel awkward just standing there, and you feel like maybe you should give him some privacy even if he doesn’t care much, so you leave the bathroom to find something for him to wear.

You’re not sure if you’ll find anything that fits him, so you end up settling on a light pink bathrobe and decide he’ll have to work with that for now. You slip back into the bathroom to leave it on the sink, averting your eyes from his nude form in your bathtub. “Um, here’s something to wear...not sure if anything else will fit, this is all I have for now. Sorry.” You don’t wait for him to respond— he probably won’t anyway—before slipping back out.

It’s nearing 1 A.M. at this point, which is late considering you still have work tomorrow. You sigh and curl yourself up on the couch, hoping you won’t have to stay up for very much longer.

You’re not sure when you drifted off or how long you were out, but you wake up to the sound of footsteps and see Yuta coming out of the bathroom wearing the robe you’ve given him. You have to laugh a little at the sight of him in the light pink material, though you think it suits him in a way.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need some clothes.”

Yuta raises his eyebrow. “I still have my suit.”

“Yeah, but...don’t you want something else to wear? Your ship is pretty much gone, so you’ll probably be on Earth for a while...and if you don’t want anyone realizing you’re not from here, you’ll have to wear regular clothes.”

Yuta visibly upsets at the idea of his ship’s destroyed state, even though he knows there’s not much he can do about it. “I guess. I shared which planet I was heading to before I left, but...Earth is a very big place. And my trackers were destroyed with my ship, so…”

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know how much comfort that can be. “We can look for some clothes tomorrow. It’s probably better for you not to leave the house right now, but...that’s what online shopping is for.”

“Online shopping…?” Yuta seems puzzled by the concept, but he doesn’t ask any further. Then he looks around the room again. “Is there somewhere I can rest?”

“Oh, yeah, follow me.” You get up from the couch to head upstairs where the guest bedroom is. The house isn’t huge—it was your grandmother’s before she passed it on to you—but it’s more than enough for you alone, and it should fit one more just fine. You open the door and turn on the light, illuminating the small room. “It hasn’t been used in a while, so excuse any dust. I can fix that tomorrow, but it’s getting late...” you stifle a yawn, “...so we should probably go to sleep now.”

Yuta looks at you and nods.

“Um, well...goodnight.” You wave at him from the doorway before closing it.

As you make your way down the stairs, a sudden weariness and apprehension comes over you. An alien in your home? Escaped from a recently crashed UFO? Wearing one of your bathrobes? You’re almost positive you haven’t thought this through deeply enough, but you’re in it now. Might as well see where the rabbit hole leads to.

The next morning, you prepare yourself to go to work like you usually do. For a while, the house is so quiet that you almost forget Yuta is there until you see him standing in the kitchen entryway, still wearing his pink robe, and you almost jump through the ceiling.

“Jesus, you came out of nowhere,” you gasp, holding your heart.

“Where are you going?” Yuta asks. He steps into the kitchen and tentatively sits down in one of the dining table chairs.

“To work,” you say, and then pause. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to leave a freshly-landed alien at home alone. “Will you be okay here by yourself? I could come over on my lunch break…”

“What am I supposed to do here the whole time?” Yuta asks, sounding displeased at the thought of being abandoned for hours.

“Well...you could watch TV? There’s the on-demand channel...the fridge is available for you too, just try not to clean out my—wait, do you even eat human food?”

Yuta shrugs, crossing his arms. “Not really. It’s not a big source of nutrients for us.”

You nod awkwardly. “Huh. Well, that’s...interesting.” The stress of the situation is already making your head pound and you haven’t even left for work yet. “Uh, yeah—I think I’ll just come over later and check in...come on, I’ll at least show you how to work the remote before I leave.”

You bid Yuta goodbye once you’re about to go, though you feel more than a little hesitant about leaving him there. There isn’t much other choice, though; you can’t afford to take a day off on such short notice.

The extraterrestrial sighs, sprawling across the couch and looking at the ceiling. The TV is already playing the channel you left it on, and Yuta turns to the screen and watches as a group of humans make weird food dishes he’s never seen before.

“This is stupid.”

The rest of the week with Yuta manages to be an adventure even though he never steps foot outside the house.

Yuta doesn’t take a liking to human food, which means he opts for spending most of his time in the guest bathtub instead, claiming that the water gives him more nourishment than meals can. You don’t know how true that is, but you’re not going to fight him on it. Less food you have to prepare, you reason...although you often end up making extra anyway and getting him to try a few bites. It feels odd to not see him eat.

Living with someone from outer space is not really as weird as you expected it might be, which surprises you. Yuta stays in his human skin whenever he’s around you, and you steer clear of the guest bathroom when it’s occupied lest you walk in on something crazy.

You’ve taught Yuta about new concepts he didn’t know before or wasn’t overly familiar with. He’s particularly intrigued with online shopping, and you ended up buying him a bunch of outfits that you both thought he’d look nice in. He doesn’t seem to be big on technology, which surprises you considering how advanced his UFO looked even its ruined state, but maybe human tech is more primitive than what he’s used to. He’s quite fascinated with the microwave, though, and how it can heat anything up in minutes.

With you uncovering new bits of information each day, you continually wonder how different his homeworld must be from the Earth. You can’t pull much out of him about it, for whatever reasons he has for keeping the information close, but you try to let him talk about it at his pace without pressuring him.

You could probably get used to living like this.

Maybe not your wallet, though. You’re definitely not loving how your water bill is going to look once it comes in the mail.

None of your coworkers or neighbors know—not that it’s any of their business anyway. You don’t know how long Yuta is going to stay, or what the hell you’re going to do when his people finally catch wind of his whereabouts and land a UFO in your backyard, but you figure you’ll get to that part when it comes.

On one Saturday morning, you wake up to the sound of tapping on your door. You try to ignore it, thinking it’s just some woodpecker setting up shop outside your window, but you’re proven wrong when the door swings open.

You pull the covers away from your face for a moment to see Yuta standing there looking at you. You stare at him for a few seconds before sighing.

“Why are you up so early? It’s the weekend,” you groan, pulling the covers back over your head.

“Why do you sleep so late?” Yuta retorts, still standing in your doorway. You don’t know whether he expects you to get up and do a trick, but it’s not happening. You peel the blanket away so it’s just below your eyes and look at him.

“What?”

“It’s not fun being here alone all day, you know,” he says, crossing his arms.

“So...what? Do you want me to play with you or something?” You can’t stop your sudden laugh, but you feel bad about once it’s out. He has just lost his ride home and has no foreseeable way back until someone notices his absence. Plus, needing to stay hidden and cooped up like a criminal can’t be enjoyable.

Yuta rolls his eyes at your response and starts down the hallway again, but you jump out of the bed and follow him. “Wait, Yuta, I’m sorry. That was stupid. I know it can’t be easy living like this. I’m not sure if I can make it better, but I’m willing to try.”

Yuta pauses in the hall and turns back to look at you. “I’m tired of being in here all the time....no offense. But there’s only so much I can take. I know I’m supposed to be in hiding, but it’s not like anyone can tell the difference. Even you couldn’t. Can’t we go out for one day?”

You think about it for a moment and figure he’s right. You both were trying to be overly cautious at first, but there’s no real way anyone would notice anything unless he shifted. “I guess we could...as long as we don’t go anywhere with a lot of water.”

“I have more self-control than that,” Yuta scoffs, though his words trail off as he’s already heading back to his room to get dressed.

You and Yuta walk around downtown for a little while, although you can’t shake the lingering nervousness you feel. You both decided not to head back to the city center any time soon; there’s not much left of the broken ship anyway, with scientists carting off pieces of it for research. Just as you thought. It’s too big to transport all at once, but you’re sure the remaining parts will be gone within the next couple weeks.

Yuta is continually surprised by how many new and unfamiliar things he spots along the way—things he actually gets to see up close and in detail. Kinda hard to focus when you’re running and hiding for your life.

Eventually, Yuta slows down as you walk past a small and colorful restaurant. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing up at the sign. You stop to turn around and see what he’s gesturing to.

“That’s just a hamburger joint...you won’t wanna go in there,” you say, raising your eyebrows. Because you don’t eat food. Despite that, Yuta still seems curious about the restaurant and he hesitates to walk away. Realizing that you aren’t going to get anywhere, you go to stand next to him and peer inside. There are a few people already inside, sitting at scattered tables and eating their food. “Do you want to go in, or…? ‘Cause you have to eat something if we do. This is your idea.”

“I’ll eat, let’s just go,” Yuta says, grasping your hand and pulling you into the restaurant.

You wave at the person behind the counter who greets you as you walk in, while Yuta is busy scanning every inch of the place. You let him look over the menu for a little while, but with so many options available he isn’t sure what to get—especially when he’s not sure if he’ll like any of them—so you end up picking for the both of you.

When you finally get your food, you take it to one of the tables. You watch attentively as Yuta takes the first bite of his hamburger, and you try to stifle your giggles as you watch his face go from nonchalance to bewilderment to shock.

“This is actually...good.”

“Wait, this is really the first meal you’ve liked? Are you saying my cooking is bad? Damn.” You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I’m not answering that.” Yuta laughs along with you, which is probably the first genuinely happy expression he’s shown since he’s been here.

Yuta has a very pretty smile, you realize. You’re a little taken aback by it. You haven’t seen much of it since you met him, but it’s here now and striking in its genuine quality. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside...which you mainly attribute to the satisfaction of doing something nice for someone else. Of course. Who wouldn’t enjoy a nice meal they didn’t have to pay for?

Things go smoothly for a while as you both eat and pretend to make boring small talk since you can’t talk about him being an alien in public. However, you feel sweat on the back of your neck when you see your coworker Alex walk through the door with his boyfriend. This city is too small for its own good sometimes.

You try not to call attention to yourself and Yuta, keeping your gaze on your food, but he spots you anyway and waves enthusiastically. Alex gestures for his partner to go ahead and order while he comes over to your table.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s great to see you! Too bad we missed you at the UFO wreck today, though; we went out again one last time before they take the whole thing away,” he rushes out in one breath. Yuta’s eye twitches at the mention of his ship, and you’re suddenly on edge, hoping the situation doesn’t turn sour.

“Oh, uh, wow, that’s...cool!” you choke out, pinching your straw between your fingers. Before you can think of a way to divert the subject, Alex turns to Yuta.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex! Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” The last few words are directed at you. Alex gives you a playful grin, and you toss him an embarrassed smile back.

“Uh, no, he’s my friend! Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuta says, though you can recognize his tone is a bit dry.

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Alex’s boyfriend calls him from the other side of the restaurant, and he turns to respond before taking his leave. “Ah well, looks like we’ll have to cut it short, but it was so great to see you guys. Enjoy your lunch!”

You let out the breath you were subconsciously holding once he leaves.

“Boyfriend…” Yuta murmurs.

“What?”

“That would be really weird. Wouldn’t it? We’re not even the same species,” he says, lowering his voice. It’s not like you don’t agree, but you admittedly don’t appreciate the way Yuta screws his face up at the thought. You prickle with embarrassment.

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Well I’m not exactly eager to date an overgrown fish, so…” You almost expect Yuta to fall into another one of his moods at your words, but he actually chuckles a bit, which surprises you.

“Then it’s mutual!” Yuta sticks his tongue out and you roll your eyes.

The warm and fuzzy feeling, you soon find out, is not a one-time thing.

You don’t quite know what to make of that. You wouldn’t like for Yuta to go back to his initial broody state, of course, but you’re starting to believe this feeling can’t just be attributed to your charitable actions. You can’t stop thinking about the more playful side of Yuta you saw at the burger place that day, and the way he’s been gradually more open with you since then.

Yuta usually spends his nights splashing around in the guest bathtub, but one night he wanders into the living room and sees you putting your afro in plaits. He becomes weirdly fascinated with the process, watching you carefully and asking occasional questions. Amused by his interest, you answer all his questions and even offer to let him do one section.

“It’s probably not the same, but I used to braid my friend’s hair often…” he says wistfully as he settles in behind you. “We did a lot of things together.”

Your ears perk up. “Oh? You sound like you were very close,” you say, resting your chin on your knees.

“Really close,” he affirms. His hands are gentle in your hair, as testament to his words. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation, and before you know it, that warmth is spreading through your chest again. You even allow yourself to wonder what it’d be like for him to do this all the time, tending to your hair and telling you about his homeworld, before you open your eyes again and quickly pull yourself out of that reverie. You probably shouldn’t get too used to this, you reason with yourself. “I think she’s what you’d call a mermaid...except the look is a bit...different.”

“Different?” you echo, wondering if you’ll get an explanation.

“They don’t have human arms or anything like that...it’s more like tentacles.”

“Ah,” you try to imagine that, though it’s hard. “That’s certainly unique.”

“Maybe you’d like it...my planet, I mean.”

“You think I would? Why?”

“I dunno, just a feeling…”

“If only I could breathe underwater,” you laugh. “You’d take me back, though? Hypothetically, of course. I’m not too human for you?”

“Will you ever let that one go? It’s probably the least I could do after setting up residence here. Maybe we’ll get you an alien costume, though, so you’ll fit in.”

“How nice of you to think of me in all my humanness. God, the universe is something else…”

You start when Yuta’s hands leave your hair. “I think I’m done?” he says, sitting back on his feet. You grab the mirror from the coffee table and look at the braid you let him do.

“Oh wow, it looks good.” You purse your lips to hide the grin about to break across your face. “Do you wanna do the rest?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Go ahead then, my hands needed a break anyway.”

You sit back and let Yuta finish the rest of your hair, listening quietly as he tells you more about his friend from his homeworld. Her name is unpronounceable to you, but it sounds pretty all the same. They grew up together, he says, and have been on lots of adventures over the years, though he still keeps that same vagueness he always has when describing his life. He ends up getting you to tell him more about your life, which you do; you figure he probably doesn’t know a whole lot about you, either.

Yuta hands you the mirror when he’s done, and his head pops up next to yours in the reflection. “Good?”

“It’s great!” you say, and you really mean it.

You discover that, strangely enough, Yuta has an affinity for sci-fi movies. Go figure. He especially seems to like the campiness of alien films; then again, everything is campy to him because of how different it is from how extraterrestrials actually live.

You are in the middle of watching The Fly when it comes to one of sex scenes, and you try not to sweat. It’s always a little awkward to watch sex scenes with other people, but doing it with an alien gives the whole thing an extra layer of weirdness.

“Human sex is so funny,” Yuta says out of nowhere. You just barely avoid choking on your drink.

“Uh, o-okay. Do I want to know what that means?”

Yuta only shrugs and leans farther back onto the couch, looking completely unbothered about what he’s just said. “It just is.”

“...I’m sure your people must procreate some kinda way?”

“Yeah, but it’s not quite this. But when I’m in this form, I can do it as humans do.”

That makes you pause, and you’re not sure what to do with that information. Actually, your mind has already decided for itself and is trying to go to a place you don’t want it to, and you’re mildly horrified by that revelation. There’s no real reason why you should be curious about it. And yet...

“Hummm...have you done it before? In this form?” You keep your eyes glued to the screen, which is now showing a shirtless Jeff Goldblum doing acrobatics—but that’s still less awkward than looking over at Yuta right now.

“There was one time.”

There is a twinge of something in your chest. Fascination? Sure. Revulsion? Maybe not that. Dare you call it anything close to jealousy? You immediately throw that one out the door, sink further into your seat, and try not to think about what your life has come to.

“Okay, since you still won’t tell me directly if you’ve been here before, at least tell me this; did it happen here on Earth? With a human?”

Yuta shakes his head. “Some other aliens have weird fetishes. I only did it because she asked and was really adamant about it.”

“Ooookay, you know what…” You get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen, laughing awkwardly all the way. You don’t have any particular reason to go in there, but you have to do something with the nervous energy that’s about to make you jump out of your skin. You pretend to shuffle around in the fridge for a minute so you don’t look too silly getting up for no reason.

After taking a moment to calm down, you turn back to Yuta. “Okay. Hypothetically, if you wanted, could you actually…? With a human? In your natural form? Or would the parts be incompatible, or...”

“Maybe...I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve ever tried. Why?” Yuta gives you a look that’s partway between curiosity and incredulity, and you wave your hand in dismissal.

“It’s just a question.”

Yuta leans forward on the couch, barely concealing his own amusement at whatever he’s cooking up in his mind. “Are you saying you want to try it with me?”

“You’re not funny,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning at that suggestion. “Remind me not to ask you anything like that again.”

When you get home from work one weeknight, you roll your eyes at the mass text sitting in your inbox, forwarded to you from Alex. Another after-work party, which means another event where someone will run through the sprinklers naked and everyone will pretend like they don’t remember it the next workday.

You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, especially with Yuta, who will likely want to go if he finds out, so you decide to just come out and say it and see what happens.

“Hey Yuta…” You slide up behind him where he’s sitting on the couch. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be at home for a few hours on Saturday. I’m going to a party this weekend. It’s a friend’s party, someone from work.”

Yuta looks at you forlornly. “The same person we met at the restaurant?”

“No, but he’s gonna be there too. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t know if it’s safe for you to go…”

“That’s not fair, the last time at the restaurant went well,” Yuta argues.

“Yes, but this guy has a pool and he’s a dickhead who likes to push people in and what if you get caught off guard and change unexpectedly?”

Yuta’s response is as straightforward as you expected it to be. “Then I’ll punch him in the face.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, coming to sit beside him on the couch. “Ugh. As satisfying as that sounds, I don’t need the extra stress of dealing with the aftermath. I don’t know, Yuta...do you think you’ll be okay? God, I feel like an overprotective mom or some shit.”

“Y/N, it’ll be fine, stop worrying. I can take care of myself,” Yuta insists, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. He’s a little closer than you anticipated, which makes your heart rate increase a little. You chalk that reaction up to his invasion of your personal space and shift away, groaning.

“Fine, I’ll bring you. But if shit goes down, I can’t promise an easy way out. Let’s just keep things lowkey, alright?”

“Of course I can do that! I’ve been doing it so far haven’t I?” he says, but somehow you’re not entirely convinced.

The party is filled with people you know from work and a slew of unfamiliar faces, probably your coworkers’ friends. It’s mostly a backyard party, like you already knew, although there are some people mingling within the house.

There are already a few people lounging in the pool. In any other scenario, it might be inviting to you, but now you just look at all that water with a looming sense of anxiety. Yuta sticks close to your side, saying nothing but studying everyone around him.

“Y/N!” your coworker David shouts from the backdoor of his house. He holds up his beer in salutation and you wave back at him, mildly annoyed that he’s brought everyone’s attention to you both. He hustles over to you and claps you on the back strong enough to make your bones rattle, and you wince. “Hey dude!” He reaches across you to pull Yuta into a handshake, and Yuta also winces when he grips his hand a little too tight. “Make yourselves at home, I’ve got everything you could ever need—including the booze and babes!” You both nod awkwardly before David goes off to greet someone else who’s just pulled up. You roll your eyes once he’s gone.

Yuta’s eyebrows draw together. “That was…”

“Annoying,” you finish for him.

“You don’t seem to like him. Why did you decide to come?”

“Workplace politics, if you’re the only one who doesn’t come it’s awkward, ugh. It’s just bullshit. Let’s not get into it.” You walk towards the house and Yuta follows, and you nod at a few people you know along the way.

You find Alex in the kitchen, where he offers to make drinks for you and Yuta. You cast a glance at Yuta, wondering if he’ll take up the offer; you have no idea how he’ll react to alcohol, or if they drink any equivalent of it on his homeworld.

“Um, I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh okay, straight-edge guy! That’s cool too,” Alex grins, making just the one drink for you. As you and Alex talk, the girl from your department whose neighborhood was about to be evacuated sidles up to your little group.

“I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”

“Oh...it’s Yuta.”

“Yuta? How cool, I’m Sooyoung.”

Little did you know that that one introduction would expand into them having a half-hour long conversation right there in the kitchen. You really don’t know how Yuta is pulling this off without spilling the beans, but then again, you do; he’s good enough at manipulating the conversation to make it seem like he’s sharing personal info when he’s really not. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he throws in things you taught him every so often.

Alex notices your changing demeanor and follows you as you walk into the living room, finally exhausted with playing third wheel. “Hm, someone seems a little spicy.”

You cough. “I’m fine, it’s just cramped in there, David should really invest in a bigger house..this place could use a remodel.” You throw a glance around the living room, not wanting to see the mischievous look in Alex’s eyes.

“Well, remodel aside, it’s not really my business, but you certainly seem to have a little green monster brewing here.”

You give Alex a long look. “Don’t. He’s my friend. He’s not even—” You have to stop yourself before you expose anything, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Not even what? Your type? I don’t know, he’s handsome enough to me. You can’t go wrong with a pretty boy. Don’t tell Xavier I said that, though.”

“Lord, let me get the hell out of here…” You leave Alex to cackle to himself while you go out into the backyard again, holding your drink and mulling around the edges of the activity. Too busy wrestling with your own emotions, you don’t realize how close you’ve drifted towards the pool.

“Hey, Y/N?” David says from behind you.

“Yeah?” You go to turn towards him, but before you can, you feel a huge shove from behind and the next thing you know your feet are off the ground and you’re in the pool. It all happens so fast that you can barely catch your bearings, and for a terrifying moment you’re convinced you’re about to drown.

The seconds feel like minutes, and you can’t even open your eyes to tell up from down. The next thing you register is an arm around your waist, and somehow you’re being pulled up even though you’re too panicked to even control your limbs. Your head pops above the water and you cough and sputter loudly, trying to take in air. You try to blink the water out of your eyes, though it drips off your hair and makes it even harder to see.

You’re still not sure what the hell is going on until you’re hauled out of the water and sitting on the ground. Someone hands you a towel, and you hear a female voice saying you’re such an asshole, David.

You wipe the water off of your face and then you’re finally able to see; Yuta is crouching in front of you, just as soaked as you are and staring at you with a worried expression. You look back at him, disoriented and a little dumbfounded at his still-human state.

“You didn’t…”

Even though you’re still trembling with the fear of almost drowning, you’re unable to look anywhere but at Yuta for that moment—at the pure concern on his face.

“Nice going, David,” someone else says sarcastically.

“It was just a bit of a prank! No hard feelings guys, come on. Y/N?” You realize David is standing on your left, and he tries to come closer, his hands open in an apologetic gesture. You jerk away from him, holding the towel to your shaking form.

“Get the fuck away from me. You’re a fucking idiot!” you shout. “All you do is ‘play pranks’ and then you wonder why no one likes you!” That draws a few barely concealed laughs out of the people standing nearby, though you don’t think any of it is funny. David steps back, unsure how to respond and looking truly embarrassed for once in his life.

Filled with anger, you try to get to your feet but you’re still unsteady. Yuta puts his arm around you again, lifting you up and encouraging you to lean your weight on him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You don’t have much to say on the way back home. You insist on leaving right away even though Yuta suggests you sit and wait until the tremors subside. He obviously can’t drive you back home, so it’s all he can offer, though it doesn’t make you feel much better.

The silence itself isn’t particularly awkward to Yuta, but he is uncomfortable anyway because he knows it stems from your own discomfort. At a red light, he turns to you.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he speaks again. “I know you’re mad about the pool, but...it seems like there’s more than that. Did...you not like me spending so much time with Sooyoung?”

You scoff. “You can’t be serious. I don’t care what you and that girl do.”

“You’re not a very good liar.” You’re too worn out to argue, so you merely give him a sidelong glance. Yuta sits back in his seat and watches a few cars zip past, their tail lights looking like clashing stars against the night. He’s not used to so much...manmade stuff. There was his ship and his trackers, of course, but he still has a hard time adjusting to be surrounded by so much iron and steel. His own planet is ruled by nature, by the vast oceans in all their unpolluted original essence, but Earth—or at least this portion of it—is much, much different.

He means to glance back at you, but his eyes linger for a while longer than intended. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because your outfit is a pretty color, or because the coils of your hair look shiny reflecting the light. He’s never put much thought into human beings before, and his limited experiences with them were mostly better left unremembered. Taking a human form was no huge deal for him; just a move that was necessary at the time.

But now, he’s seeing humanity—and most specifically, you—in a different light, and he’s uncertain what to do with this realization. People have feelings, thoughts, and dreams, like his own species, or like any other. He’s beginning to care what you think of him, how you react to him, even though he doesn’t know why this matters.

“You look pretty,” Yuta says. The compliment is the last thing you expected from him. It seems especially random after what happened at the party; here you are, soaking wet and incredibly uncomfortable. You’re a little late to put your foot on the gas pedal once the light turns green, and someone behind you honks.

“Pretty? I thought humans were weird to you.” Your mind goes back to The Fly and the subsequent conversation you had, and your hands tighten minutely around the steering wheel.

“You are. That hasn’t changed.”

“Good to know.” You don’t want to laugh, but this does make you crack a smile. “But...thanks. And...thanks for that, at the pool, you know. I should...probably trust you more.”

The rest of the ride is a little more talkative after that, and Yuta is happy that he could lighten your mood if even a little bit. Although he wouldn’t tell you, he’s becoming accustomed to your smile, and he’s more displeased than he thought he could be when it’s absent.

The thunder booms so loudly that it makes your window frames shake. It almost reminds you of the day Yuta’s ship fell out of the sky. You pull the covers tighter around yourself as if they alone could protect you from the storm’s fierceness. Storm clouds have been brewing all day, but the skies didn’t open until you and Yuta went to bed. Now, the rain and lightning is in full force. The rain pounds against your window, sounding more like hail or even bullets.

You’re startled for a second time when there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in?”

The door opens slightly and Yuta appears in the small sliver of space. “Sorry, but...can I sleep here? The storm...” He gestures to the window, where a crack of lightning strikes right after. He’s wearing a sleep shirt and loose pants, and his blonde hair is disheveled.

“Uh, sure.” You shuffle over to make room for him. “I guess this isn’t your type of water, is it?” He huddles underneath the covers with you, facing you with his arm tucked under the unoccupied pillow.

“Not when it’s so intense like this.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “It’s scary. Does rainy weather make you think of your homeworld often?”

“Often,” he repeats. “But...I think I’d be worse off if I weren’t here.”

“Here...on Earth?”

“I mean, here with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. It’s a surprisingly personal confession, though you are grateful you’ve become someone so important in his life already, even if it’s only because you’ve given him shelter. That familiar warmth spreads through you again.

Warm and fuzzies = gratefulness to a friend, the feeling you get when you pet a cute puppy. Right. It’s not the sensation you get when you think you might have feelings for your extraterrestrial friend, you try to convince yourself. “I’m...glad you’re here. Maybe not under these circumstances, but still.”

Yuta nods without speaking, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from you. You think he must be waiting on you to say something else.

“What?” you ask quietly when he keeps staring at you. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” Your joke does little to clear the air, and the tension keeps rising. You should probably be the first one to look away, to end whatever weird game this is and go to sleep, but you can’t. It’s unexplainable.

Yuta props himself up on his elbow, and you’re about to ask him where he’s going when he slips his hand onto your bare shoulder. You’re already covered by the blankets, but you suddenly feel even hotter with his hand on you, sliding up from your shoulder to the side of your face. “Y-Yuta…?”

You don’t know what to say or do, but you don’t object when he leans closer. Your faces are only inches apart now, like he’s hesitating and wondering if he should cross the line. The thunderstorm is intense, but this moment feels much more suspenseful than that could ever be. And then, it’s suddenly satisfying when his lips are on yours.

The kiss starts gentle. He’s careful as if he’s afraid to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s soft and sweet. Things get more heated when his tongue prods against your lower lip and enters your mouth. You don’t know when his hand made it from your face to your side, but he pulls you close with his fingers pressing into the flesh just below your breasts, and you tremble at the proximity.

When you pull away, both of you are breathing harder and unable to look each other in the eye.

“Should we be doing this?” you whisper.

Yuta shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it feels good.”

At those words, you pause for a moment before moving to kiss him again. His lips respond deftly to yours, his body crowding you in and making you feel hot and enraptured with desire from where you still lie under the covers.

His hair is very soft when you slide your hands through it, though you can’t push away the thought that suddenly manifests in the back of your mind. This isn’t really his hair, or his lips, is it? It’s all a mask to cover whatever is underneath, which is something you still don’t entirely know, yet are increasingly curious about.

Yuta’s hand drifts up just high enough to caress the underside of your breast—all still over the cover of your clothes. Abruptly, that thought forces its way to the front of your mind, making itself unavoidable, and you have no idea how to reconcile it. This is all so...very unfamiliar. And undeniably scary.

You pull away from him, your face creased with conflict, and his hand stills on your body. “S-sorry, I…um...this is...”

Subsequently, he pulls his hand away from you, though some part of you doesn’t really want that to happen. “I-it’s fine.”

You both settle back into the sheets, the tense aura from before replaced with one that’s thick with unease. The storm continues on outside, unknowing and uncaring of anything else but its own nature.

Though you would like to pretend it isn’t so, things become strained after the night of the storm.

You and Yuta don’t talk about the kiss. You expected him to say something about it that morning after, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and so you figured you just forget about it, too. What are you thinking, anyway? You’re literally from two different worlds. You don’t have the first clue about what a connection would look like between you, whether it be just sex or a relationship.

Why couldn’t you just fall for a coworker and have a bit of office drama like everyone else? Even that would be simpler.

Why did you have to let your thoughts get the best of you? You don’t have any answer for that, except for maybe your own need to come to terms with your attraction. People have never been very skilled at accepting others different from themselves, you know that much. But that usually counts for people of different ethnicities or cultural backgrounds, not two entirely different species.

You spend the whole week afterwards tearing your mind up with this monologue and trying to figure out what you should do next, because you’re quickly growing weary of coming home to a tense atmosphere. Alex can only give so much advice—not that you’d really tell him the entire situation—without knowing just how complicated everything is.

Where he used to hang out with you and help you with your hair, Yuta spends more time up in the guest bathroom again. You wonder if he thinks you’re disgusted by him. You’d probably think the same if he reacted the way you did.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta is facing the situation with a similar amount of inner turmoil as you, wondering if he’s gone too far. He’s done many silly things in his life, but he doesn’t know how to undo this mistake. The mistake of kissing you? The mistake of seeing you as more than just another human? The mistake of knowingly flying in a faulty ship? Maybe all of it.

He feels guilty about freezing you out and pretending as if nothing happened, especially with all you’ve done to make him safe and comfortable in your home. But, at the same time, he is equally frightened to face you and discover the real reasoning for why you pulled away that night. Because you’ll never see him as someone you could like? Or maybe even love?

If that’s your truth, he’d rather leave it unsaid.

There aren’t many choices left but to face it. Whether this idea is smart or not is yet to be seen, but you suppose you don’t have many solutions left. And you are sick of being cooped up in the house.

“You sure this is safe?” Yuta asks as he stares at the scenery whizzing past. “You were all freaked out about me being near water before...now you want to go to a lake?”

You glance over at him. “Yes, it’s my parents’ lake property. It’s private, Yuta. No one will be there but us. I think we could both use a mini vacation this weekend, yeah?”

“I guess, sure.” Yuta shrugs. His demeanor is more closed off than it was before that dreaded kiss, but you can still tell that he’s interested in the idea of getting access to a bigger body of water, even if he doesn’t outwardly express it.

The lake house is two hours out of your city. It hasn’t been used much in the past few years with both you and your parents being busy with work and life, but if there was ever a good time to use it, it’s probably now. You just hope there aren’t any squatters of the furry variety; the last thing you need is to be fighting raccoons or squirrels after stepping through the door.

Luckily, there’s really no one but you two once you reach your destination. The lake is big and pretty like you last remembered it, sparkling under the sun and throwing the rays back in your eyes. Yuta is automatically captivated by it.

“Here it is!” you say, walking along the sand and spreading your arms out towards the body of water. “It might not be much compared to your homeworld, but I hope it’s enough.” You carry your bag up the stairs to the house and turn back to Yuta, who’s still standing by the shore gazing across the water. “You can go in, you know? Get comfortable!”

That seems to snap him out of his trance, and he turns back to you, following you up the steps. “Not right now...I’ll go later.” You’re a little disappointed at that, but you simply nod and open the door to go in.

You spend the day getting increasingly more restless as you and Yuta hang out together. You go on the pier, walk around the entirety of the lake, and even take your dad’s boat out on the water, but he still doesn’t get in.

You eat dinner together later that night, although you’re the one doing most of the eating, and there isn’t much conversation to be had. You’ve both run out of things to say that don’t center around the kiss or why he refuses to get in the water.

Yuta spends a few more moments watching you push your food around your plate before leaning forward. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks.

You sigh heavily. “Do you not like it?”

“No, I do, but…” he hesitates. “Can you answer my question first?

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, well. I brought you here because...I don’t know. I figure you deserve to have somewhere bigger to swim around in than my guest bathtub.” You laugh nervously.

He seems unconvinced. “Is that it?”

“I’d say so! Why won’t you even take one swim, is the better question? I want you to relax and be yourself.”

He furrows his eyebrows as if he doesn’t know how to reply. “You...aren’t you...repulsed by it? I just figured you wouldn’t want to see me in my natural form. Especially since…” He trails off at the end, and your palms sweat a little.

“No! I know I was weirded out at first, but...I-I guess that was the point of this whole trip, to show you that…” You grapple with your words for a moment, unsure if now is the time to fully confess what you’re feeling. “Look, I want to try, alright? I want to see it at least once. I want to accept you as a whole being, and that means, you know...all of you.”

Yuta smiles gradually at that, and you feel swept up with a sudden wave of affection you weren’t expecting. You are still a bit scared, but you don’t want to turn back now. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, clasping your shaking hands together.

Yuta nods and stands up from the dining table, gesturing for you to follow him. It’s late now, with the moon shining brightly and the last vestiges of dark blue sky giving way to black. The air outside is cool, but not uncomfortably so. You follow Yuta to the pier and watch timidly, your stomach flip-flopping, as he sheds his clothes, leaving them on the wooden deck. Then he slips into the water, disappearing underneath its still surface.

You crouch down, looking intently at the rippling water and anticipating whoever is going to resurface. The sounds of croaking frogs and crickets press in from every side, ringing in your ears so loudly that it’s hard to think straight.

You gasp when Yuta lifts from the water, his human skin gone and completely transformed into something that’s more...amphibian, if that’s any accurate way to describe his appearance. His skin is still scaly and green like you saw that first day, but in the moonlight it seems to glitter and reflect a spectrum of colors like his armor did. There are two fins on the either side of his face, translucent and shining a pale green. They slowly move back and forth as he treads on the water, as if they’re conveying an emotion to match whatever he’s thinking, and you watch them in fascination.

Yuta floats on his back in the water, the long gills on either of his sides catching the moonlight. You watch in fascination as they move with his breaths. Using the pier post to keep yourself stable, you reach out to touch them. They’re slick under your fingers, but not in a slimy or gross way. Your hand drifts to the rest of his skin, across his torso and along his sides, and every portion has a strikingly smooth texture. His alien eyes stare at you silently as you do, glittering big in the moonlight.

“What do you think?” his voice is quieter than you expected, as if he’s afraid of your reaction. He doesn’t break his gaze, though, studying your face carefully.

“You’re...amazing,” you say breathlessly. “Incredible.”

His lips, which are green like the rest of him, form a small smile, and then he dives underneath the water. He does a few laps as if he means to impress you, his lithe marine form sparkling just below the surface of the water. You keep your hand suspended over the pier as you watch him, your fingers sliding against his body every time he passes by. You smile at his display, a laugh coming out of you at his impromptu performance.

When he’s finished, Yuta climbs up onto the pier with you and kneels in front of you, much like he did that day he saved you from David’s swimming pool. His feet are webbed like his hands. Droplets of water slide off of them onto the wooden boardwalk while others linger on the clear webbing like tiny jewels. Your hand is magnetized to his face, drawing across the scaly skin and tracing over his lips, which are just as smooth as the rest of him.

Before you can think twice about it, you lean forward and capture his lips with yours. Did you expect it to be fishy? Maybe. But it’s not that at all. He still manages to taste distinctly like Yuta, even though you’re not sure what that taste is. It’s a flavor that makes you feel...held. Yuta is surprised for a moment, but he responds to your kiss, one of his webbed hands inching close to your face. He doesn’t touch you at first, a little reluctant and yet wanting to let you lead the pace so he doesn’t scare you off.

You welcome his touch, carefully brushing your fingertips across his hand and bringing it to make contact with your skin. His own skin is still a bit cold from the water’s temperature, but it doesn’t bother you much.

The kiss soon grows more intense, and a mounting desire makes itself known in you. You won’t pretend like you’re 100% confident about all of this, but you don’t want to shun it anymore, either.

Yuta’s hand drifts to your neck, his long nails pressing into your skin ever so slightly. You dare to explore his body more, sliding your hands across his chest and over his side gills, feeling the way they contract under your hands, and farther down still. You haven’t looked down there yet, and you’re nervous over what you’ll find. But you keep going until your fingers meet something slick and hot and throbbing, seeming vaguely like a regular penis, though you quickly realize it’s more of a tentacle.

Yuta shudders and draws away from the kiss, and you feel alarmed, wondering if you’ve gone too far without thinking.

“If we’re going to do this, I should...probably shift back—”

“Don’t,” you blurt out. Yuta looks at you questioningly. “I...you should if it makes you comfortable. But...I don’t mind.” He’s quiet for a few seconds—seconds that feel much longer than they really are. You’re apprehensive of what he’ll say, but you keep your eyes on his face.

“Okay,” he agrees. “If you’ll accept me like this...okay.”

Neither of you bother with moving to somewhere more comfortable like the lake house or even the sandy shore. Instead, Yuta peels your clothes away right there on the pier, covering every new bit of flesh with his strange and lovely mouth, his head fins ghosting across your collarbones and breasts like moths’ wings.

You tremble and grow wetter under his soft caresses, which are much gentler than you’d initially expect with his sharp black nails. His hands leave streaks of water across your body, which cools your burning hot skin.

Yuta carefully maneuvers your lower body at the same time as he bends his graceful head, bringing your sex close to his mouth and licking deeply into you. Your back presses hard against the pier, the wood scratching your skin as you cry out into the night air.

“Oh God, Yuta!” You soon realize that his tongue is much longer than any human one, and it reaches to a spot deep inside of you that makes you twist around in his grasp, your fingernails scrambling for purchase on the surface below you. He uses his tongue to pleasure that spot continuously, drawing moans and ever more wetness out of you as if he were controlling the waves in the ocean.

You find yourself coming apart on his extraordinarily long tongue, your legs shaking and then going limp with the pleasure flooding through your body. Your breaths come fast and hard. Yuta lifts his head from between your legs and pulls you carefully into his lap so his slick tentacle is pressing against you. It’s not hard like a dick would be, though it is clearly responsive to your body, and you momentarily wonder if it can even go inside you.

“Is this gonna work?” you ask, a tremor in your voice.

“It will work,” Yuta replies, and you’re not sure how, but you decide to trust him on it.

It does, to your surprise. With your legs crossed tightly over his lower back, Yuta presses into you, wet and warm and very unexpectedly soft. It doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s not a bad sensation, though—far from it. His tentacle is similar to his tongue in how it flexes and throbs inside you, pressing tight against that spot again and making you shiver in his arms.

You both quickly find a rhythm that works, your bodies moving together in an otherworldly combination of two beings, two species, two souls.

Yuta’s long nails scrape gently against your skin as he holds your back, guiding you on his sex and pushing his hips up into you. You sigh into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, feeling the cool scales underneath your lips. You seek a firm grip on his slick skin, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

“Yuta…” You moan his name. His hand slides to the back of your neck so he can bring your face to his again, kissing you deeply. There’s a wet squelching sound as your bodies connect, Yuta’s tentacle slipping in and out of you and pleasurably stroking your walls.

“Y/N…” Yuta whispers into your soft hair, pushing into your spot repeatedly, his thighs tensing under you as his pace increases. You grip his arms as you feel your orgasm swelling up in your abdomen. You tip your head back and Yuta’s mouth goes to your neck and farther down, his heavy breaths warming your skin and making you overheat from the inside out.

You tighten and cum around him, your voice stuttering out of you in broken gasps as he keeps thrusting into you, drawing your climax out. He pulses inside of you, which sends little shockwaves up your spine; you know he’s probably close, too.

When Yuta comes, there’s a lot more of it than you expected. His cum overflows and drips out of you with a consistency like syrup and a transparent color like precum. It makes the inside of your thighs sticky and shiny.

Yuta pulls out, and more of his cum spills out of you, leaking onto his lap and staining the pier underneath you.

“That’s not gonna get me pregnant, is it?” you say quietly, half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Yuta chuckles.

“Probably!?”

Yuta carefully gathers you in his arms and stands to his feet, walking you off the pier and back towards the lake house. Your clothes are still on the pier, but you’re quickly getting sleepy and aren’t very worried about it; you’ll get them in the morning.

“What happens now?” Yuta murmurs as he walks up the front steps. You already know he’s referring not just to your relationship in this present moment, but to every event that will make up your future. Does he need to continue hiding, or is it really safe? How long will this last?

You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest. “We stay together.”

Yuta’s arms tighten around you as a silent affirmation of your words.

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

Text

running away, across an ocean

aaron hotchner x reader, taking place before and during “it takes a village (season 7, episode 1)”

word count: 3347

rating: teen, for language and sexual tension, as well as a little bit of heartbreak

There was a beauty there. Each night, falling asleep beneath the stars, the cool wind rushing across the desert floor. Sure, sand got kicked up, but that wasn’t the worst part of it all. It wasn’t even close.

No, the worst part was the job.

The cases themselves were either dull or dead ends. The people were either assholes or incapable. There was never a middle ground, just… a lot of men who thought the world should go their way or the highway. And then there was you, one of three women who managed to get in the game, and struggling like hell because of it.

“Do not call again unless you have some solid intel,” you snapped. “I don’t have time for games, and I sure as hell do not have fucking time for a rookie looking for a promotion.” Your eyes closed, and you pulled the phone away from your face, slamming the antenna down on the satellite phone before clipping it back onto your belt. Your hands immediately went to your hair, pulling out the ponytail only to tie it back up tight and high.

Two years in the desert, and while the stars were always a highlight…

With a huff, you moved to stand over the table where your files were, fingers tracing over the black and white photographs before you heard the flutter of the tent flap.

“Ma’am. I’ve got an agent here, says he was detailed to come to you when he landed.”

“An agent?” you called back, not turning around. You weren’t aware of any new CIA lackeys coming in to try and do your job better than you could. “Who sent him?”

“FBI, ma’am.”

Well. Wasn’t that a surprise, as well as an annoyance.

Your head lifted from the study of the photos, allowing you to turn and face the two men at the entrance to the tent. One of them, a soldier, one you’d seen around base, a low-ranking guy who did the errands the older ones didn’t like to do. The other, definitely the agent, the suit being a dead giveaway. He was handsome, at the very least, but that didn’t mean much when looks usually matched ego.

“Dismissed, private. Go get some grub,” you told the soldier, who nodded and gave a salute, backing out of the tent and jogging off to grab a meal. It left you alone with the agent, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the knucklehead as you walked around the table to lean against it. “So, they send the FBI when the CIA can’t get the job done? Doesn’t seem like this is your purview, Agent…?”

“Hotchner, Aaron Hotchner,” the man said, and you watched as his eyes seemed to pick apart the whole tent. Scanned it front top to bottom with eyes so brown they looked black, especially in the lamplight of the place. If he was trying to make you squirm, it didn’t work, but a lesser person would be fidgeting under a sharp gaze like that. “I’m a special supervisory agent with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I’m to report to Agent Y/L/N, get debriefed.”

“You’re in the right place, Agent Hotchner, but you’re gonna need to change first,” you told him. “An outfit like that gets a target on your back.”

“What kind of target?” His voice is low, gravelly, and when he looked at you again there was something in them that told you he was tired. Worn. And yet, he was here.

You shrugged. “The kind you see through a scope. We’ll get you the garb. Ugly as hell, but it gets the job done. You’ll be sweating through it in no time.” With a little gesture to your own attire, dirty cargo khakis, the combat boots, and the vest over a shirt that looked like every other shirt you had with you, you gestured back to him.

“Understood, Agent.”

His… quiet demeanor. It was unnerving. You worked with a lot of alpha males who chose yelling as the best form of communication, and this agent looked like the lot of them. Short cropped hair, sharp job, hooked nose. The only thing he was missing was a beard, something you doubted he’d ever sported in his life. But even though he looked the part, and would fit in even more so once he got changed, you couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t ever get in with the guys.

Maybe that he wouldn’t even want to.

It was silent for a few moments, the two of you sizing each other up. “We’ll start in the morning,” you finally offered, when you admitted that the only thing you had waiting for you was a phone call to headquarters about this guy. Get a background. “There’s nothing here that can be fixed overnight, so get some shuteye if you can. First night is always the hardest.”

The agent nodded, and you watched as he turned to opening in the tent. You started to turn yourself, before he paused, the flap open to the night air.

“I’m not here to step on any toes,” he told you. That low voice was almost quiet, respectful, even. More than you’d gotten from anyone else in this place. “You’re the agent-in-charge. I’m just a resource. But I’m good at my job, and I can help you catch who you need to catch, if you’ll let me.”

That made you laugh again, and when he raised a brow, you just shook your head.

“Agent Hotchner,” you told him, “you being here has already stepped on more toes than you can imagine.” Your feet carried you across the tent, fingers skating over the photos, the files. When you stopped, it was in front of the corkboard you had, various skirmishes of note pinned up. “Now, that’s not your fault, not even close. But I’m telling you that while I appreciate your intel, your job while you’re here is to make sure I’m not failing at mine. So, forgive me for not being the most welcoming, but you’re gonna be out of here in a week, and I’ll still be here, digging in the sand.”

When you turned back towards the agent, he hadn’t flinched, but his brow was still raised. You grimaced again, an almost smile, before nodding toward the outside. “Your tent will be a few down from the mess. Find it first, get some food, and then… tomorrow we’ll get started.”

You ended up being right. With a beard and in the essential uniform, Aaron Hotchner (or Hotch, as he insisted you call him) looked like all the other guys who came in and out of your tent. Especially when he had those sunglasses on, a holdover from his days as an FBI agent stateside, he blended in.

You knew what he really was, though. There wasn’t an ounce of military in him, and more than that, the respect he had never left, even when you blew him off that first meeting. He respected your place as the agent-in-charge, called you ma’am, and you worked together.

You liked him.

That one week turned into three months. Cases had a tendency to go cold when you couldn’t exactly go investigate crime scenes further than what photos gave you. You’d go days without a lead, which was definitely less time than the weeks you had before Hotch came, but those periods in between were enough to leave anyone frustrated.

But Hotch – he didn’t blink. He took your frustrated scoffs and hands slamming on tables. He took your anger and annoyance with the people who doubted you, and he helped you use it. And when you saw that eyebrow of his raise, saw his own anger flare up when someone else flew in to push you around, you showed him just how capable you were.

You were a team. Partners, almost, in the new home away from home.

It was the evenings when you got to know him. When working all night didn’t make sense that time, and so dinner was when you wrapped up. You’d offer him a beer or two, and you’d shoot the shit, sitting outside while the moon rose above you, hovered there.

He told you about his son, back home, with his aunt until he flew back. You told him about your mom, the only person you really called so she could hear your voice. He told you about law school, the FBI, and profiling, and you broke down your trajectory through the ranks of the CIA.

He told you about his wife. And he told you about the BAU. About his team, every one of them. And if you saw his eyes get a bit glossy when he mentioned them, well… you didn’t mention it.

Perhaps it was those conversations that got you thinking about him. About what Aaron Hotchner was like back home in the States, what his team was like in person and not just anecdotes. Did he crack jokes? Did he smile? Did he laugh with his team at Quantico? Did he look at the stars, like you both did every so often, when the beers settled well and the morning felt far away.

“The only time I really think about seeing stars is when I see them outside a jet window,” he admitted, and when you turned to him it was with disbelief. He chuckled, because of course he did, and you just kept your gaze trained on him.

“You guys have a jet? You gonna tell me where the FBI gets jet money while I get a cot and a tent to sleep in?”

He didn’t reply, but you could see his smile, and when your eyes turned back up to the sky, you felt his own land on you.

Three months came and went, the two of you working shoulder-to-shoulder. You helped him navigate a new territory, and he helped you inch closer and closer to finding the bastard you were sent to Pakistan for in the first place.

“It shouldn’t be this hard finding this guy,” you groaned for the third time, fingers running through your hair. Your tent was your regular meeting spot, with intel from across all branches of government making its way onto your wall. With another pull through, you finally felt satisfied enough to yank it back again, this time into a bun that held it tight against your head. “We’ve followed the money, we’ve followed the aliases, we’ve followed the victims. He’s just… he’s three steps ahead of us.”

“We’re close. A few days, and he’ll make a mistake. We just have to be there to catch it.” When you looked at Hotch, you saw him bent over a photo with a magnifying glass, looking every inch the Sherlock Holmes you’d come to see him as. He’d find clues with the littlest of things, and you’d watch him piece together intel without breaking a sweat. “Did you call that contact of ours?”

You shrugged, standing from a stool to move so you were standing side-by-side with Hotch. “He’s holding steady. He’ll reach out if he has something of use, but I don’t know how we’re supposed to find this guy with old information.”

“Any information is good information. We just have to put the pieces together.”

When you nodded, he seemed pleased, and you turned to face him with a smile. “You a fan of putting pieces together?” you asked him. “These things seem like games to you.”

“I don’t do it for the thrill of the chase, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied, but his tone was light. His arms crossed over his chest, and when he turned to face you it took a moment to realize the sleeves on his shirt were rolled up over his elbows.

He looked like he belonged here. There was a hint of a tan in his skin, and as you scanned him you realized the beard was the fullest it’d ever been. He hadn’t bothered shaving after that first week, and it suited him, the facial hair.

It all suited him.

The silence was dense. As you were watching him, he was watching you, and you realized that his gaze had drifted down, over your chest, down over your hips. You wondered what those eyes saw when you turned around, or, even better, when they closed at night.

“So it’s to impress me, then?” you asked him, and if you were a little breathless, it was only because he was close enough that he was taking up all the air.

Was that nod imagined?

You drifted together. One hand of yours moved to lay flat on the table, steadying yourself. One of his followed suit, on top of yours, and his other hand seemed to be thinking about sitting against your waist.

You were so close. Just one push forward, one turn of your head, and it’d be over. All you could see were his eyes, half-lidded, dark as they scanned your face, lingering on your lips. You could do it, could take a step forward and let him overtake you.

Would he pin you against the table? Would you straddle him in a chair? Would he tilt his head back for you, or would you bend forward for him?

Reality hit first. Getting caught would be the least of your worries, never mind what the rest of the whole damn command center would think. It’d spread like wildfire, and you’d never see the light of day again, your power stripped from you.

All for one… one damn kiss. A fantasy, come to life.

A shuddering breath left you. The spell seemed to break, and Hotch’s eyes blinked away the evidence of his desire. When you pulled back, it was with a swallow and a shake of your head. He seemed to get the memo, and his thumb stopped stroking the back of your hand, but you couldn’t let yourself mourn the loss. You had a job to do. One that needed your full attention, one that would prove yourself.

Your hands moved up to your hair again. Tightened your ponytail. “We’ll… we’ll talk strategy in ten minutes. I need to update the colonel,” you offered, and when he nodded you walked away, feeling a pang for the loss of a good lay. Of something else that you couldn’t put your finger on.

Whatever. There was always time. You didn’t regret it, not planting one on him, if only because the thought of something to come was still so alluring.

Some part of you, deep down, knew that this would be a temporary position. Perhaps that part of you kept you from kissing him that night. Knowing that at the end of the day, you were nothing but a distraction from what haunted him in those quiet moments.

Of course, when it did end… you just didn’t think it’d be like this – all over with a phone call, one he took after staring at the caller ID, going outside where the wind and Humvees would stop you from overhearing him. Of course, you heard it anyway, heard his breath catch. Heard him tell the person over the phone that he was on his way, no trouble at all. No fanfare.

It was just… over.

And it hurt.

When you pushed open his tent, Hotch was packing up his bag with his meager belongings, and when he opened his bag you caught sight of that damn suit he’d worn when he first showed up. For some reason it made your anger flare, and one hand reached out for him before you realized that you had no right to touch what wasn’t ever yours to begin with. He turned, to look at you, but when he did it was like he was looking past you, through you.

“You want to tell me who was on the other end of that phone call?” you asked.

It was like he was already gone. Even looking at you he didn’t stop folding, putting away the meager belongings he brought. “A member of the BAU. I’m being reassigned.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right? You’re leaving?” Your voice was sharp, and for a minute you realized something you should’ve caught onto a long time ago. He was just like all the others. “We’re not – we’re not done. You said it yourself, we’re a couple of days away –“

“I’m needed back in Quantico.” His own voice was annoyingly calm, but there was an undercurrent that had your jaw clenching. As you looked at him, you seemed to see more of him than he’d ever revealed before. Saw the bags under his eyes. The ragged weight of his beard, unkempt at the edges, up the sides of his face. The gauntness of his cheeks. “An ongoing investigation got a lead, and I need to be back there with them.”

“Hotch, it’s fuckin’ two days. You’re telling me you can’t spare two days for this case? For me?” At this point you were incredulous, and your hands were thrown up in something like disbelief, not even realizing that you’d just broken what tenuous line had remained uncrossed.

That’s when he stopped, of course. His hands stopped moving, and his head ducked. He was basically packed; the only thing left a photo next to his cot. His son, he’d told you once, after a couple of weak beers, when the two of you moved past a fragile alliance and more into a solid team.

“This case isn’t over. And it’s important, you’re – you’re important.” He said it hesitantly, like it pained him to admit it, to face the reality of what this had become in a short three months.

You didn’t hold your breath, though. You knew what was coming. You weren’t the BAU. You weren’t his team. You were important in the macro sense, in the way that human life was something he always sought out to spare. In the way that open cases would always linger. In the micro, this team was a part of his DNA.

“They’re my family. And I need to be with them. This… this one is on me.” You could see the tension in his body for a moment lift, his decision his own and one that he wanted to make. His shoulders, always curled forward over papers or a meal from the mess or your notes, were straight, for the first time in a long time.

The conversation was over. You knew it. He knew it. As soon as you left that tent, the two of you would never see each other again. He’d made his decision, and he’d take it to his grave. He cared about them. Loved them.

In that moment, with all of that running through your head, it felt silly, getting worked up over Aaron Hotchner. It felt childish, begging him to stay forty-eight extra hours so that there could be some kind of closure. He deserved this, a clean break, without any extra weight keeping him from the people he cared about.

So you didn’t beg. You’d asked, he’d declined, and so everything else got shoved away, never to be mentioned again.

“All right,” you finally whispered, and when he looked up at you, your gaze was stony. You wouldn’t let regret weigh you down. You’d finish this case. You’d catch this guy. “Good luck, then, Agent Hotchner.” Your hand reached out to him, a professional handshake.

He took it, his grip firm. If he noticed you shutting down, shutting him out, he didn’t mention it.

“Be safe, Agent Y/L/N. Call me when it’s over.”

“Sure. Catch the bastard you need to catch.”

The last thing you saw of Agent Hotchner were the pieces of his family – his son’s picture, reverently placed on top of his folded suit – before you walked out the tent and back into the desert air, thinking about how you’d watch the stars a little while that night.

They were the best part of the desert, after all.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #female!reader #my fic #criminal minds #angst

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maybeimamuppet · 4 years ago

Text

the first date

Damian wakes up to two wildly different texts, one from Cady and one from Janis.

Cady’s is about what he can expect from her; if not a touch more nervous.

Little Slice: Good morning Damian!! I’m sure Janis has already told you but she’s taking me on a date tonight and she won’t tell me where we’re going do you have time to come over and maybe help me put together something to wear???? love you!!

And then there’s Janis.

Janjan: dame can u come over today i’m taking caddy out tonight and i’m losing my shit

Oh boy. He’d been absolutely thrilled when they’d finally announced they were dating, but he should’ve known they would never make it easy on him. He decides to go to Cady’s first, Janis will need his support right up until she leaves to go get her.

He texts both of them while he has breakfast and feeds his little french bulldog, Pippa. He learns that Janis is picking Cady up at four to take her to the zoo, so he has a couple hours to kill before he needs to be with either of them. He sends a text to Cady letting her know he’ll be over around one, getting a thumbs up and several heart emojis in response.

True to his word, he knocks on the Heron’s front door at exactly one, greeting Cady’s mom politely before she shoos him up to Cady’s room. She’s sitting at her desk, still in her Lion King pajamas, working on what Damian can only assume is calculus. He taps lightly on the doorframe, wincing a little as she jumps practically out of her chair before snapping her head to look at him. Once she sees it’s him, though, she smiles brightly and rushes up to hug him, as if she had no idea he was coming.

“Damian! You’re here! I totally lost track of time, I was doing math to relax because Janis won’t tell me anything about where we’re going so I don’t know what to wear or how many people are going to be there and I don’t know what to expect so I’m nervous but it’s also my first date with Janis and I’m so excited and-“ She bursts out rapidly. He envies her breath control, sometimes.

“Whoa, little slice. Deep breaths. I’m here to help, she told me what she has planned and it sounds really cute. I think you’ll like it,” Damian says lowly, massaging her arms to help calm her. “There will probably be a fair number of people around, but I don’t think you’ll notice them and they will definitely not notice you. And I’m here to help you pick something to wear that’ll make Janis combust when she sees you. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks Damian,” she says, resting her chin on his chest and grinning up at him. He gives her another tight squeeze before making his way to her closet.

“Oh, my god. Okay,” He whispers to himself once he opens it. It’s a violent clashing of various flannels and bright pinks, but he spies a few pieces he can probably work with. “I’ve never seen a lot of this stuff before! Most of this is really cute,” He exclaims, pulling out a yellow sundress that it’s definitely still too cold out to wear.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been meaning to go through and give stuff to Gretchen and Karen that I know I won’t wear. Some of it just isn’t me, and some of the fabrics bug me,” Cady mutters shyly, as if he’d ever judge her for that.

He would never judge her, but he had not taken it into consideration. “Okay, so what kinds of fabrics or textures irritate you?” He asks, flicking through what she has hanging.

“Um, wool or anything scratchy, certain kinds of denim, and most things made of polyester, off the top of my head.” That limits the Plastic side of the closet rather severely.

“What about corduroy?” He asks, spying a green overall dress she bought at the tail end of her time as a Plastic. The color is almost exactly the same as Janis’ favorite jacket, maybe he can coordinate a color scheme. She reaches out to feel it before nodding. “Groovy, now we just need something to go under it.” They’re in the midst of what’s known as “Fool’s Spring”, so it’s just about warm enough outside for her to leave her legs bare. He starts digging through her stuff again, looking for some kind of top to go underneath the dress.

“Did you just say ‘groovy’ in earnest?”

“Yes, I did, thank you.”

“I have some more stuff in my dresser if you want to look at those,” Cady says, decidedly moving on. He puts the discarded garments back on their hangers and closes her closet carefully before moving to root through the drawer she’s pulled open.

“Don’t you judge me, Miss Grool. Let’s see what we have in here,” He says, grinning to himself a little as he pulls out several of Janis’ hoodies. “You guys have only been officially dating for, like, two weeks! How did you already get all these?”

Cady flushes, nearly matching her hair. “She gave me one a long time ago, and it was so comfy I just... never gave it back. And now I borrow them whenever she’s not looking. But only the ones she doesn’t really wear! And I’ll give them back. Eventually.”

Damian laughs at that, knowing full well she won’t give them back until Janis notices they’re gone. “I say go for it, little slice. Payback for her stealing mine since we were little.”

“Aww, you guys must’ve been so cute,” Cady coos, stretching up and pinching one of his cheeks like a grandmother would. “I wanna see pictures soon.”

“You’ll have to fight Jan on that one,” he says, pulling out a black sweater made of the softest fabric he’s ever felt. “Holy shit, this is so nice. Is this one you can handle?”

“Oh yeah, that’s my favorite sweater, I forgot about that. Thanks Dame,” she says, taking it from him gently.

“Okay now go put this on so I can be sure it actually works together,” he demands, clapping his hands and shoving her delicately towards the bathroom. He knows it will, he just wants to see Cady in it.

She shuffles back in a few minutes later and gives a little twirl, holding her hands out to her sides. Damian pretends to take pictures of her like she’s on a runway, and they both start laughing as she goes along with it and starts doing various exaggerated poses.

After a few minutes of shenanigans, he checks the time and realizes he’s been at her place for nearly an hour and a half. Cady is very easy to get lost in conversation with.

“Are you gonna be good if I go now? I have to take Pippa on a walk before dark and run some errands for my mom,” He says, coming up with a little white lie in case Janis doesn’t want Cady to know what he’ll actually be doing.

She nods and comes to hug him goodbye, reaching up to squish his cheeks. He’s exactly a foot taller than her, so she has to reach just a little to get to him, making them both giggle. She gives him one last squeeze, muttering, “Give Pip a snuggle for me?” into his chest before pulling away. He says he absolutely will before wishing her luck and leaving her alone. First job done.

——

Janis’ ten-year-old sister, Juliana, opens the door for him as he steps onto the porch. Their mom must be running errands or something, she doesn’t work Saturdays.

Julie pulls him down to mutter “She’s a mess,” into his ear before running back to the living room with a squeak as Janis calls “I heard that!” from the top of the stairs.

“I’m not a mess,” she murmurs as she reaches him at the bottom, but Damian can tell her anxiety is getting to her.

“Have you taken your meds today?” He whispers into her hair, groaning as she shakes her head. “Janis Olivia, I swear. You gotta take those regularly or they don’t work. Go take them and get something to eat. I’m gonna go pick your outfit.” He pushes her lightly towards the kitchen and thanks the heavens she goes willingly.

Letting himself into her room, he sees the telltale signs of a stressed Janis. Sketchbook open to a random page on her bed, filled with rough sketches of a familiar little redhead. She left her phone blaring music on her nightstand, and he can see faint footprints in the plush carpet from where she’s been pacing.

Damian knows Janis’ closet very well, as she makes him pick her clothes for any important event. He has an outfit in mind already, but he’s a little worried about how Janis will react to part of it. He pulls out the pieces he wants, laying them on her bed gently as she waltzes in. She shuts off the music before turning to look.

“Pants?” She grimaces as soon as she sees what he’s picked. He called it.

“I know, I know, but hear me out. You can still wear your fishnets underneath, they’ll look cool with the rips. And, Cady’s never seen you wear pants before! All you’ve ever worn are your shorts and dresses,” he begs. He knows Cady will love her in this, and it’s in Janis’ comfort zone enough that she’ll still feel confident in it.

“Fine. Turn around, loser.” She grumbles, faking annoyance. He obliges, turning around and covering his eyes until she says he can look. He turns back to face her as she’s pulling her less-decorated green jacket over her black and white checkered crop top, and adjusting where the rips fall on her black mom jeans. “How do I look?” She asks, spinning around like Cady did.

“Bitchin’.” He says, pushing her to her mirror so Janis can see herself. She checks herself out, and Damian can see the grin growing on her face. She really does look great, if he does say so himself.

“Okay, yes, you did a great job, as always. Thank you,” she says as she turns around to hug him. “Now can you help with my hair and makeup?”

———-

Damian pretty much does her typical makeup, just with slightly less around her eyes. After he finishes swiping on her signature dark purple lipstick (and making extra sure to set it enough), they both start talking at the same time.

“Do you think the zoo is too cliché?”

“Can I try something different with your hair?”

“Do whatever you think will look best, Dame. I trust you. But really, is it dumb?”

He grabs her mom’s curling wand and gets to work after putting on a heat protectant. “I don’t think it’s dumb, I think it’s cute. You want to do something she’d like, and she loves animals. Caddy chased that duck around the park for, like, half an hour last week, she’ll love it.”

Janis bursts out laughing at the memory, trying not to move her head to avoid getting a serious burn. “I didn’t think I’d be this nervous. We went out all the time when we were just friends, but like, what if she hates it? What if I’m so awkward she changes her mind and decides she doesn’t want to date me after all? What if I do something dumb and she gets uncomfortable?”

“And what if it’s perfect? Janjan, Caddy’s been pining for you for the better part of a year, and she’s been your best friend for even longer. If she hasn’t run off screaming by now, she’s not going to.” He says comfortingly, shutting off the iron and starting to run a brush through her two-toned hair. “Now hold still, you’re gonna mess it up.”

Janis goes stiff, holding as still as she can. He can tell she’s still very nervous, but she seems to be doing better than earlier, since she didn’t immediately try to contradict everything he just said.

He starts brushing her hair up into a high ponytail, asking “So are you only taking her to the zoo? Or do you have some other scandalous plan for later that you’re not telling me about?” to distract from what he’s doing. It was a valiant attempt that failed miserably, and she shoots him a look in the mirror.

“Um, if she’s not too tired I was gonna take her to that clearing by the pond we found a while ago to watch the stars. She knows all about that stuff,” She murmurs, fiddling with a scrunchie. Regretfully, it is the one Damian needs, so he plucks it delicately from her fingers and gives her the brush to play with instead.

He snaps the scrunchie into place around the ponytail, spraying it lightly with hairspray so the curl holds. He wipes some pretend tears from under his eyes, saying, “My baby girl, all grown up, going on her first date,” with highly exaggerated emotion. Janis laughs, shaking her head and watching her hair bounce around in the mirror.

——-

Julie manages to corral them into playing Mario Kart for a bit, Janis only being able to do one race before she has to go. She grabs her backpack and the large pile of blankets from by the door and puts her boots on, going to kiss both of them on the forehead and remind her sister to feed their cat, Pancakes.

“Get out of the way, Janny, I’m about to win,” Julie whines, kicking her lightly in the shins.

Damian cackles at that, saying “Yeah right, squirt. Have fun, Janjan. Make good choices and send me pictures,” Before also shooing her out of the way. Janis rolls her eyes at them as she locks the front door behind her and texts her mom that she’s going but left Julie with Damian.

——

Janis hears her phone ping as she’s pulling up to Cady’s house. She dries her slightly sweaty hands on her pants before digging for her phone in her bag, grinning as she sees the message.

Cady Girl: Do I need to bring money or anything??? I can’t wait to see you btw, I’m so excited!!!!!

Janis texts her back, telling her all she might need to bring is a blanket and reminding her to wear good shoes since they’ll be walking a lot.

She grabs the flowers and cup she acquired on her drive over and heads up to the door, knocking politely. Cady opens it with a squealed “Janis!” before she’s in her arms, nearly knocking the stuff out of her hands.

Cady clocks them after a few seconds, asking, “Are those for me?” and pointing to the flowers.

Janis pecks her on the cheek in greeting, answering, “No, these are for your mom. Damian said it’d be a good idea. This is for you,” and handing her the venti chai she got from the Starbucks a few blocks out of their neighborhood.

“Aww, Jan, that’s so sweet. Thank you,” Cady coos at her, taking the cup and calling for her parents. “Mom, Daddy, Janis is here! She got you flowers!” Janis flushes bright pink as Mrs. Heron emerges from the kitchen.

“Oh, hello Janis. Thank you, these are lovely,” she says, taking them from her before turning to Cady. “Binti, you know the rules. Home by ten and make good choices.”

“Yes, mom, I will,” Cady says as she hugs her mom goodbye, turning to grab her bag and the blanket she picked out. “Tell dad I said bye. Love you,” she calls as she drags Janis out by the hand and shuts the door loudly behind her. “Sorry about that, she can be so embarrassing sometimes.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. It’s cute,” Janis says, opening the door to her truck for Cady to be chivalrous. She gets in on the other side and chuckles as Cady sips her tea, cradling the cup as if it’s the most precious thing she’s ever been given.

“You’re wearing pants! And your hair is up!” Cady nearly chokes on her drink as she finally notices, reaching out to tug gently on a curl and watch it spring back into place. “You look so beautiful.”

Janis flushes scarlet again. “Thanks. So do you,” she mutters, grabbing Cady’s hand and kissing her knuckles, feeling the last of her nerves fading into the background.

“So do I get to know where you’re taking me yet?”

“Nope. I want it to be a surprise. Just enjoy the ride, Peanut.” Janis says, reaching for Cady’s hand again as she drives. She takes it and starts playing with her fingers, fiddling with her rings.

“Fine,” Cady pouts. They continue chatting quietly, Janis rubbing her thumb over the back of Cady’s hand. After a while, she goes quiet. Janis looks over to see her asleep, curled up adorably in her seat. Maybe it’ll be a surprise after all. Now she can’t see all the signs saying “ZOO” they keep driving by.

————

Cady still hasn’t woken up by the time Janis has paid for and found a parking space. She goes around to open her door for her, shaking her awake gently.

“Caddy. We’re here, it’s time to wake up.”

“Noooooo,” Cady whines, pawing indignantly at her hand and curling into herself.

“Yeeeees,” Janis laughs. “Come on, this’ll be fun!” She reaches over to click Cady’s seatbelt off, grabbing her hands and hauling her to her feet.

Cady rubs at her eyes blearily, looking around to see where she is. It takes her a second, but once she sees the big lion on the sign nearby it clicks and she jumps into Janis’ arms.

“Jay! We’re at the zoo?!” She squeals into her ear.

Janis laughs as she scoops her up, spinning her around a few times before setting her down again. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“Yes! Come on, let’s go, let’s go let’s go! I wanna go in!” Cady exclaims, bouncing excitedly as she grabs Janis’ hand and goes into a full-tilt run towards the gates.

“Caddy, Jesus, please slow down a little. It’s not even five yet, we have time,” Janis calls.

Cady stops suddenly, turning to look at her. “Oh, sorry. I got carried away,” she says sheepishly. Janis tips her chin up and boops her nose lightly.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you’re excited. Just do it at a speed I can handle,” Janis tells her, breathing a little heavier. Cady grabs her hand again, gentler this time, and starts walking them at a much more reasonable speed towards the gates.

——-

“Where do you wanna go first, Kitkat?” Janis asks, flicking through the map she grabbed once she’d bought their tickets.

“Uhm...” Cady hums pensively. “The aquarium?”

“Sounds great, that’s this way,” Janis answers, pointing down a pathway to their left.

Once they enter the dark building, Cady makes a beeline for the small touch tank, rolling up her sleeves and quickly skimming the rules before sticking a hand in, giggling as a little stingray comes up and brushes against her. Janis comes up behind her, putting her arms around her waist and bending down to rest her chin on her shoulder.

“Do you wanna feel, Jayjay?” Cady asks, holding Janis’ hands with her free one. Janis shakes her head, kissing her jawline gently.

“Nah, I don’t like touching wet things that move. Creeps me out,” she says, prompting a laugh from Cady, who reaches up to pat her cheek with her dry hand.

“We’ll have to go to the petting zoo then, I saw it on the map. Those are just dry things that move,” She teases, turning her head around and kissing Janis’ nose before moving to get some hand sanitizer.

Janis takes her now clean hand and leads them deeper into the building, towards a much, much larger tank that reaches the high ceiling, filled with various tropical fish. Cady goes up to press her face against it, pointing excitedly as a massive shark swims right past her.

Janis stays back for a second, sneaking a quick picture of her, illuminated by the lights in the tank. It gives her auburn hair an almost ethereal glow, making her look like some sort of siren. She puts her phone back into her pocket, deciding to paint the photo later.

Cady turns around to grin at her, gesturing for Janis to come look at the fish. Janis comes up, taking a place next to Cady and admiring the brightly colored fish swimming by. They really are beautiful, but she’s more interested in sneaking glances at her girlfriend’s excited smile.

Cady suddenly throws her arms around her, burrowing into her chest. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she mutters, resting her chin on her chest and smiling up at her. “I love it.”

Janis wraps an arm around her shoulders, brushing Cady’s hair from her forehead with her other hand before leaning down and peppering kisses on all the freckles she can see. She wants to kiss her on the lips, it certainly wouldn’t be their first, but she’s still anxious about doing so in public. Cady squeals at the sensation, smushing her face into her chest again.

“Janis?” she murmurs after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“Can we get food?”

Janis laughs, kissing her hair again. “Yes, we can. Let’s go find something.”

——

Once Cady is satisfied with her belly full of pizza, they make their way over to the section of the park with the African animals, which they’re both the most excited about. Janis has to grip her hand firmly to stop her from running off again.

Cady rushes through the gorillas and hyenas, prattling off every fact she knows so quickly Janis can’t really understand what she’s saying, but she nods and enjoys them nonetheless.

Eventually, they find themselves on a tall platform overlooking the giraffe enclosure, and Cady practically starts vibrating with excitement when she sees the sign listing all the feeding times. Janis looks over and sees the next one is in three minutes, wordlessly going to get in line to buy a bucket of lettuce.

Cady barely notices her absence, pressed up against the fence and admiring the tall creatures as they come up to get fed. Janis hands her a bit, laughing as one comes up directly in front of them and promptly begins to lick the railing separating them.

Cady proffers her leaf, laughing as Janis yelps “What the fuck?!” when its long, alien tongue pokes out to grab it.

A zookeeper comes up, informing them that their giraffe’s name is Georgie and politely asking them not to pet him before wandering off to the next group. They take turns feeding him and taking pictures of each other doing so, until Cady sticks her hand in the bucket to get another bit of lettuce and notices they’ve run out. She pouts sadly as they both wave goodbye to Georgie before returning the empty bucket and washing their hands at the small sink on the other side of the platform.

——

They go see the lions next, Janis’ heart giving a painful squeeze as she watches Cady stare longingly through the fence, pressed against it as close as she can be. She loves her life here now, but every once in a while her heart longs for her old friends. She stands there, watching as the gentle breeze ruffles the mane of the one closest to her, and as the new cubs chase each other around. She’ll see her own lions again, someday. She knows it.

Janis snaps another sneaky picture of her, sending it to Damian with a sad face emoji; he responds in kind with several more crying emojis. Cady doesn’t linger for too long, coming up to Janis for a quick hug before they move on.

Janis keeps an arm around Cady’s shoulders, squeezing her gently as they walk toward the elephant and rhino building. She winces at the smell as soon as they enter, but Cady doesn’t seem fussed by it. They walk down the hall to where the large windows are, looking for an opening in the wall of people blocking them.

Janis thinks she’s found an area behind a few people. She can certainly see fine. “Aww, there’s a little baby one. Look, Cads,” she says, pointing.

“Jay, I can’t see anything. There’s people in the way.” It is at this point that Janis suddenly remembers that Cady is 5’3 on a good day, and that she’s a whole seven inches taller than her girlfriend.

“Oh, sorry Peanut,” Janis says sheepishly. “Hold on a second.” She hunches over, gesturing for Cady to climb onto her back. She obliges with a giggle, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her chin on top of Janis’ ponytail as she grabs her thighs to hold her steady. Once she’s sure Cady’s secure, Janis straightens back up.

Now that her eye level is a good foot higher than it used to be, Cady can indeed see the baby elephant Janis was referring to, cooing over it as memories of Kenya come flooding back once again. They walk around a little, listening to the recording of a voice listing facts about the creatures and the area they normally live in, Janis laughing as Cady confirms or debunks everything the robotic voice says.

Cady is still clinging to Janis like a baby monkey as they leave the building, burying her nose in Janis’ apple-scented hair and pressing a few kisses to the top of her head. Janis doesn’t seem to mind, though, adjusting her grip and trying desperately not to think about the amount of bare thigh Cady’s dress is making available for her to hold onto.

“Where next, baby?” She asks, freezing as the pet name slips out of her mouth before she can stop it.

Cady pretends not to notice it for the moment, murmuring, “Erm... penguins?” into her ear softly.

“Did you just pick those because they’re all the way across the park and you want me to carry you more?”

“Maybe,” Cady hums, squishing her cheek against Janis’ warm, flushed one. As Janis starts walking she decides now is probably an okay time to ask about the name. “I’m baby?”

Janis bursts out laughing at that, much to her confusion. “Sorry, that’s an old meme I haven’t shown you yet. I’ll do that later. If you don’t like it I can call you something else. I just thought it fit,” she mutters the end quietly.

“No I love it! Aaron never nicknamed me,” Cady says before remembering mentioning her ex on her first official date with her new girlfriend was potentially not the best move. Stupid with love. “But now I have to come up with more cute things to call you!” She tightens her grip on Janis’ shoulders slightly.

———-

She’s spent the entire walk over to the Antarctica exhibit thinking of something to call Janis. “What about Jellybean? That’s fun,” she asks as Janis gently sets her on her feet again.

“Absolutely not,” Janis squeaks, turning away and pretending to be very interested in an informative plaque to hide how much she’s blushing.

“Aww, you’re all blushy. You’re just as sappy as I am,” Cady teases, poking her arm lightly.

“No I’m not!” Janis insists, gesturing to herself. “Look at me. Look at my boots, look at my hair. I’m tough. I’m a badass. Now let’s go see some fucking adorable penguins.”

Cady bursts into giggles. “Fine, mpenzi, you’re tough as nails. But you’re also going the wrong way,” She calls as Janis is briskly walking away. She freezes for a second before turning around and confidently going the correct way as if that’s what she meant to do all along.

“We are never speaking of this again.”

———-

They find a little bench just across from the exhibit, deciding just to sit and watch them quietly for a while. Janis nearly falls off the bench at one point, laughing hysterically as two of the penguins start fighting over some fish. She laughs even harder as an exhausted keeper comes out to break them up, looking as if it’s not the first time those two have gotten into it today. Cady’s not really paying attention to what’s happening, just grinning as she watches her girlfriend laugh so freely.

Once Janis has recovered, gently wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes, she takes Cady’s hand and pulls them up again. “Okay, you ready for best first date ever part two?”

“There’s more?” Cady asks. “But this was already so fun.” She pouts, wrapping herself in Janis once again.

“Hell yeah there’s more. I have a legal obligation to spoil you now,” Janis grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. “Now come on, we can stop by the gift shop on the way out.”

———

As soon as they walk in, Cady spies a pile of stuffed animals, her eye going specifically to a lion one on top. She runs over to check the price, wincing as she sees that it’s nearly thirty dollars. Janis bought her entrance ticket, and dinner, and let her feed the giraffes, and she didn’t bring any of her own money. She puts it back delicately and makes her way over to where Janis is looking at various keychains.

“Hey, Peanut. Did you find anything?” Janis had definitely noticed her rush over to the stuffed animals, and her dejected frown as she walked over to her.

Cady shakes her head, popping up on her tiptoes to lean her head on Janis’ shoulder. “No, I was just looking. I’ve never been able to find my name on one of these things,” she says, reaching out to flick at one that says Allison. They have her middle name, at least.

“I haven’t either,” Janis says, leaning her head against Cady’s. “At least never spelled correctly. Anyway, do you want to keep looking and see if you find anything? I saw something over there I wanted to grab for Damian,” she lies. The pizza was much cheaper than she had anticipated and her student ID got them

both a discount on their entry fee, so she has a fair bit of money left over. She’s been saving her art prize money, and her mom gave her some to have fun with as well. Time to buy a lion.

She grabs a little bouncy ball for her sister and a pair of sloth socks for Damian. He collects socks, so that’ll make a good enough cover story for now. She snatches the stuffed animal from the pile, rushing up to the counter to buy everything before Cady can see.

She finds her again with both hands in the bin of colorful rocks, sighing at the texture before she removes them again. She jumps lightly as Janis comes up behind her, saying, “Having fun, Kitkat?”

“The texture is satisfying,” she mutters. “Didn’t think you’d find me so fast.”

Janis chuckles, coming up to take her hand. “Are you ready to go?” Cady nods, leading them out the gates and towards Janis’ truck. Janis checks the time once they’ve settled in, finding it to be just before seven thirty. Perfect.

She decides to stop by the Wal-Mart on the way to the clearing to pick up some snacks, Cady still chattering excitedly about how much fun she’s had so far. It must’ve been the tea that put her to sleep last time, now she’s got the most energy Janis has ever seen.

Cady seems a bit confused as they pull into the parking lot, but takes Janis’ hand trustingly regardless. Janis tells her to go pick out a snack she wants, and she nods quickly and darts off. Janis makes a beeline for the chip aisle, immediately grabbing all her favorite kinds before moving on to candy.

In typical Cady form, she comes back carrying only a case of strawberries and two bottles of her favorite sweet tea. “Oh my god, Jan,” she laughs when she sees how many bags Janis is trying to carry. She rushes off once again to grab a cart, returning to Janis and putting her things in it before climbing into the basket herself. Janis raises an eyebrow at her, but ultimately can’t resist the crystal blue puppy eyes blinking pleadingly at her and starts pushing it towards the checkout area with a sarcastic grumble about ‘certain people being too cute for their own damn good’.

———

Janis pulls into the clearing in the woods, telling Cady to close her eyes so she can get everything ready as she cuts the engine.

“Are you gonna murder me now?” Cady jokes as Janis grabs the massive pile of blankets from the backseat and begins making a little nest in the truck bed.

“Yeah,” Janis grunts as she hops up. “Took you out to give you a fun final memory.” It takes her a while, and she swears vigorously as she misses her footing on the way to grab the snacks and nearly falls on her face. She sets all their food up in the middle, and as a finishing touch, puts up Cady’s new stuffie holding up her phone, which is now playing music softly. Not too shabby, but she just hopes her girl likes it.

She goes around to help Cady down, making sure her eyes are still covered as she leads her around to the back before she takes her hands away. “Tah-dah,” she says shyly, but smiles as Cady gasps excitedly.

“Janis! This is incredible! And you bought me that lion,” she squeals, pointing to it. “Thank you!” is all the warning Janis gets before her girlfriend is in her arms, kissing her firmly.

She scrambles to grab her as she suddenly pulls back, saying, “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean- I should’ve asked first,” hastily. Janis sets her down gently before leaning in and pressing their lips together again.

“I appreciate that, but you don’t have to ask anymore, baby. It might take me some time to be comfortable with it in public, but I love your kisses,” She says comfortingly. “Now hop up here and snuggle me.” Cady uses her offered hand as a boost, wriggling up and picking up the stuffed animal to hold it close. Janis follows, getting comfortable in a corner she made extra cushy before gesturing for Cady to come to her.

She obliges, leaning her back against Janis’ chest and resting her head on her shoulder so they can both see the sky. “You don’t have to ask, either,” She murmurs quietly after a few peaceful seconds. “In case you were wondering.”

“Good to know,” Janis says, pulling her tighter against her and wrapping them

both up in another blanket. They watch the sun set in silence, observing the stars getting brighter the lower it gets.

“Which one do you like better?” Janis asks after a long moment.

“Hmm?”

“The sky. Is it better here or in Kenya?”

Cady thinks for a minute. “Uhm, both,” she says softly. “There’s less smog in Africa, obviously, so you can see more. The stars themselves are more distinct and you can see more of them. But everything just stretches on for miles, I could see everything around me, and it always reminded me how alone I was. Here I have you, and Damian, and so many people that I know actually care about me. There’s less sky, but more people to share it with.”

“That’s confusing,” Janis cracks in a ditch attempt to lighten the mood. “What constellations do you know?”

Cady takes her hand gently and uses it to point out what she can see, telling her the scientific names of all the stars she knows and the stories behind all the shapes.

“How do you know all this?” Janis asks after she’s pointed out everything they can see, turning Cady around in her lap to face her.

“My brother taught me when I was little, and then I just kept studying it after that.” Cady surmises, nuzzling into her shoulder and starting to stim with the ends of her hair.

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he-um. He passed away when I was ten. He was in the military,” Cady says.

“Oh.” Janis says. “I’m sorry. My biological father died when I was four but I still don’t... really know what to say in this kind of situation.” She mumbles, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s awkward for everyone,” Cady comforts.

“Tell me about him,” Janis asks. “If you want to, no pressure.” She adds hastily, relieved as her girlfriend chuckles lightly.

“Okay, um- his name is Rhys. He was the best, he taught me all about science and stuff, and he always made up games with me when our parents were busy with their research. I used to get nightmares a lot when I was little, and he would sneak into my tent to cuddle me back to sleep before I woke anyone else up,” Cady recalls fondly. “I think he was a genius, too. He knew everything. He wanted to be a doctor, actually. We couldn’t afford to pay for all of his schooling, so he joined the army to get help with that when he was eighteen. He was almost at the end of his service when he died, he was twenty. My parents never told me what happened, all they ever told me was that there was an accident and he was never in any pain.”

Janis presses Cady impossibly closer to her, kissing her soft cherry-scented curls. “He sounds wonderful, baby. Sounds a lot like you, actually.” She says, nuzzling their noses together.

“You think? My parents say that a lot, but I never believed them,” Cady mutters softly.

——-

They continue to chat quietly as the sky gets ever darker, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Eventually, they go quiet, and Cady leans up to press their lips together gently. Janis sinks into her, tangling her fingers into curly auburn hair and nipping her bottom lip softly.

In her head, Janis knows that the universe is above them, stretching infinitely into nothing. But in her heart, she knows that there are just as many stars in Cady’s eyes, just as much beauty in her heart. Her whole universe is right here, in her arms.

--------

lol remember when I said this one would be shorter ?? oh well.

hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!

-ezzy

#cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #paint by numbers #janis x cady #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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boymeetsweevil · 5 years ago

Text

SS3 - MYG, Fluff, 1791w

You’re not even supposed to be on the pay roll anymore because you’re supposed to be phasing yourself out of work entirely. There’s a new intern that you’ve been training a few days a week to take over for you until he’s competent enough to let you fully withdraw from your position as secretary to the CEO of Min Corp.

Said intern has just called you with what sounds like tears thickening his voice to inform you that Min Yoongi, said CEO, is terrorizing the employees.

“Jungkook,” you use the same tone you might use to calm down a lost toddler in a grocery store. “Take a deep breath for me please.”

A shaky breath crackles through your phone speaker.

“Good. Now tell me what Yoongi’s doing. What do you mean he’s terrorizing people?”

“Yoongi—I mean, Mr. Min has made three separate IT workers cry because of jammed printer and he sent the head accountant into a panic attack with a request for a two week advance on the quarter reports.”

You sigh and lift a hand that was submerged in the fragrant bath you’d drawn to pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“Did you read the 3rd section of the binder I gave you? There should be stuff in there for when we need to increase speed in specific departments. There’s outside agents we can enlist—”

“I called them, and they’ve agreed to come help out and I’ve gotten the paperwork for their payments ready.”

“Okay. What about the printer?”

“I unjammed it myself. It s-seems to be working fine.”

“Good! So just tell him and I’m sure that’ll solve things.”

“I don’t—I don’t feel super comfortable talking to him right now.”

“Jungkook, I told you that Yoongi is normally very rational. If you tell him the problem’s solved, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

He’s quiet then. The sound of paper small clinks in the background grab your attention.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just...he also,” Jungkook sniffs a meek little sound, “knocked over my lego replica of the office. It was an accident though—”

“I’ll leave in 5 minutes. Don’t let him leave his office, barricade the door if you have to.”

It’s defeated tone of voice that makes you get out of the tub you were soaking in. Water gets everywhere and the calming atmosphere you had painstakingly set up so you could have a lazy morning and afternoon is long gone.

Jungkook barely has any time to protest or beg you not to mention him calling you before you hang up.

Normally Yoongi is all bark and no bite. There’s no need to bite when his reputation as a former gangbanger preceded him so well. Too well, in some cases. Yoongi came from almost nothing and turned to illegal activities as a child in an act of desperation to care for his ailing mother. He’d learned about (legal) business after one of his elderly bosses took a liking to him and showed him some of the ropes.

Even after he started getting out of the gang and getting interested in business, it took years to get past the fearful glances and rejections that so many people in the industry sent his way. It was only after a lucky investment that he was able to start building his business from scratch.

Now, he’s able to care for his family and provide means for his employees to do the same while running a successful head hunting firm. When you were fresh out of college and looking for work anywhere, he was the only one that took a chance on your meager application. He was ruthless back then, but so were you.

So in 9 years of acting as his right hand, it was inevitable that you would learn about his past. No one else at the company knew that it nearly cost him his life to start this new chapter. He has the scar on his shoulder to prove it. Sometimes when it gets close to a certain time of year the memory of what he almost lost creeps over him.

When you finally arrive you find Jungkook gnawing on his thumb as he eyes the door to Yoongi’s office unblinkingly. The walls of the office are soundproofed to protect the confidentiality of his clients when he has important meetings and phonecalls, but you can still hear the way he snarls into the phone.

“How long has he been like that,” you ask as you hang up your coat behind Jungkook’s desk. The lego office lies in a heap of probably more than a thousand pieces in a pilfered custodian’s bucket. You can’t help but frown.

“About 20 minutes on the phone. Maybe a few hours today in general.”

“Alright. I'll go in.”

“Is that safe,” he eyes you with poorly hidden awe as you move towards the door.

“Is a zookeeper safe when they enter a tiger’s cage?”

“No?”

“That’s your answer, I guess.”

“Seokjin, I don’t give a flying fuck about the new cases. I gave those to your team weeks ago. Bring me an update on the Simmons case, or I swear I’ll come down there and pull it out your ass myself.”

The sound of the door to the office closing has him rushing to end the call so he can redirect the yelling. He tosses his phone back onto the glass surface of his desk with a harsh crack and turns to face the skyline in the window, his back facing you.

“I thought I told you I don’t want any more of that shit you call tea. It’s doing fuck all to calm me down so why don’t you—”

“Mr. Min, please take a seat.”

The line of his shoulders, already grimly hunched, shoots up further. He clearly wasn’t expecting you. It’s your day off. Technically.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is still low and tense, but the volume is significantly softer.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Min.”

There’s no need for pretenses when the two of you are alone. You could curse him with the foulest language you have for being an ass to the people who keep his company functioning like the well oiled machine that it is. But you know that your message is that much louder by using your professional voice with him.

He turns then, dark brows set heavy over stormy eyes. It would be incredibly intimidating if it weren’t for the slight turn in his lower lip giving him a subtle petulant expression. Someone’s having a bad day.

Grumbling the entire time, Yoongi takes himself to the long leather sofa that rests off to the side of the office. You make your way over to the couch as well after peering at his desk. It’s covered in papers as if he dumped onto the table one of the folders that he normally organizes with great care. The collection of expensive fountain pens that he’s received as gifts from various successful deals lay strewn about as well. And there’s a hairline crack running through the surface of the ornate globe he received as a birthday gift from one of his old bosses.

When you finally come to stand behind him, the grumbling has been replaced with silent fuming. His arms are crossed and his silk tie hangs like a dead snake around his neck after being roughly undone.

With no words, you reach forward and slide the shoulders of his jacket down his arms.

“You don’t have to,” he sighs a moment later. If you listen closely you can already hear the embarrassment from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Ignoring him, you dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He jumps and lets out a hiss as you drag the pads of your fingers over the raised skin of his scar beneath the fine cotton of his button down. A low curse leaves his lips but nothing more comes out as you continue to untangle the muscles that had somehow knotted up impressively during the few hours of the day that had passed. You can only imagine how painful the actual injury is despite it having healed a little more than a decade ago.

It takes a while and your hands cramp up with the amount of force you’re using to massage the pain away. When there’s merely a phantom ache, he raises a hand to grasp one of yours. The action has you freezing up this time. He turns his head so the soft skin of his cheek brushes against your wrist. His cheeks are damp from a few pained tears he shed. His lips press dryly against the back of your palm and he turns more so he can pull your hand forward. It’s awkward but he doesn’t care. So long as he can pepper small kisses against your hands.

“Come back to work,” he says finally.

“No.”

“Marry me, then.” There’s no flair, no drama. He says it like he’s asking you to run an errand with him.

“No. And stop always asking me that.”

“I’ll stop asking when you stop saying no.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you’ve never given a reason. I deserve that at least.”

He turns to face you then with eyes that are just a tad bit shiny. All of the sharp, feline essence gone when replaced by frustration that’s still plenty fond.

“Because I don’t feel like it yet. And it’s fun to tell you no.”

From this angle, you can see the very top of the tiger tattoo he got when he was not yet a man. It peaks out of from underneath his collar. You pick up his tie and loop it back around his neck while he’s distracted.

“Have pity on me” he lays his cheek back on your wrist as you finish up a simple Windsor knot. “I’m just a simple man who wants to settle down with the love of his life.”

“How about you go apologize to everyone for your outburst,” he winces but looks properly ashamed. “And then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

“And make sure you give a special apology to Jungkook for ruining his replica.”

“To the temp, are you kidding me? The kid put it on the edge where it was begging to get broken. I’m pretty sure the tail of my jacket did it.”

“Just do it, Yoongi.”

He leans in then, nose brushing against yours. “Say yes and I’ll even hire someone to rebuild it for him.”

“Go apologize already.”

He huffs but strides to the door with purpose.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

#bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #yoongi.net #btswriters #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff

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megan-is-mia · 4 years ago

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Can i have yandere genderbend poly bruno and giorno with a male reader with smothering promts 1 2 3 6 7 8 please (I'm so jealous of your skills of writing yandere readers that I'm like pleas eteach me your skills)

(Its less skill and more “I wonder what the fuck will stick?” but I appreciate your words regardless. Sorry I couldn’t get all 6 of the lines you wanted into the fic but if you get through the entire thing there’s a bonus...) 3. “I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.” 6. “The collar is for you, not me. You’ve proved you can’t be trusted without it.” 7. “Cruel, terrible people live out there, people who want to hurt you. Is it so bad to be away from them?” (Yandere! Poly! Fem! BruGio x Male S/o) (NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD) “Hey pretty boy, did you have a good nap?” Giorno cooed as she stroked her still half-asleep boyfriend’s cheek. “You gotta wake up, Bruno’s going to be back from her mission soon and we’re going to spend some quality time together” the blonde said continuing to caress her darling (S/o)’s face until he opened his eyes. f (S/o) had tried to keep his mind blank as fingers trailed across his face in the hopes Giorno would just let him be in peace. However that didn’t seem to be the case and so with great reluctance, the young man’s eyes popped open. “Did you have a good dream?” Giorno said bending down to peck her boyfriend’s face and begin unlocking the chains that kept him in bed. When both anklecuffs and handcuffs were open, only a study collar made of leather around (S/o)’s neck made it clear something was amiss with the pair’s relationship. At the start, the young man had tried everything to get rid of the collar but now... he’d given up that fool’s errand. “I didn’t dream anything” (S/o) lied flatly, unwilling to confess to the blonde what had really been in his mind. He wanted to keep the visions of being free and with people again to himself so he wouldn’t be punished. “Baby, you know I hate it when you lie to me. I shouldn’t have to repeat myself, but I’m feeling nice so I’ll let you amend your words. So... did you have a good dream?” Giorno said squeezing (S/o)’s fingers as she spoke. “I swear I didn’t dream about anything GioGio” (S/o) said in a quiet voice and nervously tugging at the collar around his throat as his eyes darting down before looking back at the young woman with a familiar silent plea. “Love, you know the collar is for you, not me. You’ve proved you can’t be trusted without it. If you hadn’t tried to run away so many times you wouldn’t have to wear it” Giorno said with an exasperated sigh as she led (S/o) downstairs to the entrance area to await Bruno’s arrival. A few minutes later came a faint zipping noise and Bruno stepped through the wall as she always did in the evenings when she got home. Giorno immediately rushed over to kiss her capo hello, (S/o) however, was slower to respond but eventually moved close enough that the black-haired woman was able to pull him into an embrace. “Oh I missed you two, I swear if that mission had dragged another day or two I might have lost my mind” Bruno said warmly, not releasing (S/o) from her hold quite yet. She kept a grip of his waist and half dragged him to the nearby couch before sitting beside him. Giorno scurried around the couch to the other side to sit on (S/o)’s other side efficiently boxing him in. “So what did you do on your mission Bruno?” (S/o) said as silence began to seep into the room. He wanted to keep the mobsters minds’ busy on something that didn’t involve him as it unfortunately often did. Bruno did not answer, only grabbing the young man’s head and forcing him to rest it on her shoulder. In response to the dark-haired woman’s action, Giorno squirmed onto her back and rested her head in (S/o)’s lap. At this point, the young man tried to repeat his question only to be hushed by Bruno who began to hum softly. “Why so curious? You don’t usually ask questions about my or Giorno’s missions...” Bruno finally said her humming only coming to a stop temporarily before starting up once more. Her hand roamed aimlessly for a moment before finding one of (S/o)’s and interlacing their fingers together. “I... I’m bored” (S/o) confessed, not really having a better reason than that. “I have not been allowed out of this house in months! The only way I’ll get information about the outside world is what you’ll tell me about your missions!” the words left the young man’s mouth a bit more aggressively than intended. “How many times do I have to remind you, Bambino? The outside world is a horrible place. Cruel, terrible people live out there, people who want to hurt you. Tell me, is it really so bad to be away from them?” Bruno said sternly sending a shiver up (S/o)’s spine. Even Giorno stared up at the male with a disappointing gaze. “No” (S/o) forced himself to say. “But that doesn’t change the fact you leave me alone in this for hours and hours. I get lonely and bored...” he added pleadingly. Bruno’s eyes softened a little bit at his pleading tone and she let out a low sigh. “You know that it’s your own fault that we have to leave you locked up like a wild animal. But we’re here now, so let’s take your mind off of those thoughts for a while hm?” Bruno said her tone suggestive as her hand squeezed (S/o)’s lightly. The young man tensed up in fear, this was the exact outcome he’d been trying to avoid. But there was nothing he could say or do to stop it. Once the dark-haired woman had made up her mind there was no changing it. Giorno moved into action without a word, sitting on (S/o)’s lap and making out with him as she undid his shirt. Bruno’s hands cupped Giorno’s chest teasing the exposed skin from her boob window. (S/o) forced himself to play along like always, alternating between squeezing Giorno’s sides and Bruno’s thigh before the dark-haired woman forced him to turn on the couch and lay on his back. With this chance of position came the blonde scooting up onto his chest. With one deft pull, both pants and boxers were out of the way on the floor and (S/o)’s cock flopped limply against his stomach which earned a displeased sigh from Bruno. Gracefully the woman removed her suit jacket and lingerie to allow her bountiful bosom to spring free. Somehow with the same kind of grace Giorno removed her skirt and panties before scooting once more so her cunt was almost pressed against (S/o)’s face. Obediently the young man stuck out his tongue and began eating the blonde out. This made it easier to ignore the sensation of Bruno’s boobs wrapped around his cock as her mouth teased his head to fullness. It also made it easier to ignore her lubed finger probing his ass and opening him up. Giorno squeezed her thighs around (S/o)’s head and pressed her cunt even more insistently against his talented tongue until she was cumming without warning. She squirted all over the boy’s face making him cough as some went up his nose. “Sorry~” she chirped licking the young man’s face clean as she discarded of her school jacket and slide back down his chest. Bruno placed a kiss on the blonde’s shoulder as she made her approach. The dark-haired woman pulled her fingers free of (S/o)’s ass before getting rid of her pants and undergarments. As always, she was packing with a strap-on already perched on her nethers. She turned Giorno to face her as she guided the younger woman onto (S/o)’s cock before impaling the young man on her strap on. (S/o) had no choice but to act like he was enjoying this and squeezed Giorno’s boobs from behind. The feeling of riding and being ridden made his head foggy as he thrust up and ground down against the various sensations invading his senses. Bruno thrust relentlessly as she made out with Giorno hungry for satisfaction. The blonde was just as eager groping at the dark-haired woman’s chest happily. However, they did not forget their darling (S/o) forcing him to orgasm before succumbing to ecstasy themselves. Giorno weakly pulled herself off of (S/o)’s cock before twisting to curl up beside him. On the other hand, Bruno simply flopped forward making her strap-on prod at (S/o)’s sensitive insides once more. “I hope that helped to cure your boredom and loneliness a bit...” THE END

—•—•—

BONUS FIC 1. “Hurting you is the last thing I’d do, you know that.” 2. “What do you mean it hurts? If it hurts, it’s because you’re struggling!” 8. “Say you love me. Would that be so hard? I just need you to say you love me.” (Yandere! Poly! Fem! AbbaMis x Male S/o) (NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD) (S/o) had been on his first successful date in months when the sound of gunfire rang through the air and his date had gone face-first into her plate of spaghetti. The young man barely had a moment to react before the girl’s body had been shoved out of her chair and a new figure sat before him. Only an idiot or a tourist wouldn’t recognize the black-stained lips or unnerving gaze of the right-hand woman of Naple’s capo. The one, the only, Leone Abbacchio. The imposing woman stared into (S/o)’s eyes like she was reading his very soul. The young man had to wonder how he’d must have fucked up to get on the mobster’s radar. (S/o) didn’t have much of a chance to wonder though, since a second figure slipped into the chair next to him with a grunt. He recognized this individual as well, the cheeky grin and poorly concealed pistol strapped to her thigh made it clear this must be Guido Mista, the luckiest gunswoman in Italy. “Oh shit, you’re super cute up close” Guido said leaning into close to (S/o) and making him jerk back with a yelp. She let out a laugh at his discomfort before leaning back in her chair. Hey Abba, don’t you agree? He’s really fucking cute isn’t he?” the gunslinger added winking at the albino and receiving a grunt in answer. “Please don’t hurt me! I don't know anything I shouldn’t!” (S/o) blurted out. In a normal situation he wouldn’t have been so jittery, but seeing your date get shot and then having two mobsters sit next to you definitely didn’t count as normal in his book. “Oh calm down cutie hurting you is the last thing I’d do, you know that” Guido said letting out another peal of raucous laughter as she gazed at (S/o). At this moment the restaurant’s waiter decided to come by and the mobsters ordered food as if there wasn’t a corpse by their feet. “This is your fault you know” Abbacchio said, her tone forcing (S/o) to focus on her words. “We’ve been keeping most of the riff-raff away from you but that one managed to slip through. Hence why she needed to die. Now we are going to have a nice date is that understood? ” the albino finished with a look that made it clear arguing would be pointless. “Y-yes M’am!” (S/o) squeaked out and was rewarded with a tight-lipped grin from the tall woman. The young man tried to ignore the curious stares of the restaurant’s other patrons and focus on eating the food before him. Despite the lasagna on his plate smelling wonderful and tasting even better... (S/o) had lost his appetite. Regardless, he forced himself to shovel down mouthfuls of his meal just to stay occupied. Suddenly he found his chin being grabbed and his body being pulled half-way out of his chair by Abbacchio. (S/o) held his breath as the woman’s black-coated nails lightly dug into his cheeks and she scrutinized his face up close. The young man opened his mouth about to speak when the albino closed the distance between them entirely to kiss him. (S/o)’s heart began to race and he froze up letting Abbacchio do as she pleased with his mouth. When he was finally released, he fell clumsily back into his chair panting. “You had sauce on your face” Abbacchio answered flatly before (S/o) could ask. The young man could only nod like an idiot at this response. His reaction drew yet another cackle of laughter from Guido who then grabbed the male’s shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss of her own. The gunslinger was more aggressive in the kissing department than the other woman, playfully biting (S/o)’s lips before pulling away. Finally, the mobsters’ meals arrived and (S/o) had a brief respite from the women’s attention while they ate. He was itching to make a run for it but something told him he wouldn’t get to far. He’d seen what happened to people who tried to cheat Passione of what was theirs and he had no desire to die. So what was his mistake? He couldn’t think of what he’d done to pique the mob’s attention. Had he slipped up on a payment somewhere? But (S/o) was always careful to pay his rent and protection fees on time— he even had a checklist for it! Maybe he’d talked to someone who’d been making trouble for the mafia? No... that couldn’t be it either! Everyone he interacted with regularly was just as wary of the mob as him. “Oi (N/n)~ It’s time to go” Guido said tapping (S/o) on the shoulder and breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt a cold chill go down his spine as the sound of the nickname fell on his ears. The causal way the gunswoman spoke to him, the fact she knew his name without him telling her it, it all made him feel sick to his stomach. “B-buh-but the bill” (S/o) stuttered out only to have his words waved away by the young woman who wore a devious grin as she took hold of his arm and began half-dragging, half-leading him out of the restaurant. The young man almost tripped on the forgotten corpse of his blind date and felt his stomach churn as Guido hummed to herself. As they exited into the evening air, (S/o) once again felt the itch to run. He forced it down and then forced himself to speak. “If this is about money, I don’t have much. I swear that whatever you think I did or saw it wasn’t me—” (S/o) started before Abbacchio put a finger to his lips for his silence. Obediently the young man shut his trap and began shifting nervously from one foot to the other as the albino moved to unlock a nearby car. (S/o) found himself once more forced into action by Guido who pushed him towards the car and into the backseat. The gunswoman then slid into the passenger seat as Abbacchio started the car and began driving. (S/o) stares down at his hands, quietly praying to whatever deity was listening to get him out of this mess. He also directed a prayer to his blind date’s family and a mental apology towards them for causing their daughter’s early death. By the time the car came to a stop outside a dimly-lit house, the young man had accepted his fate. His head hung low as he was guided into the house, up a flight of stairs, and down a hallway. “My room is cleaner than yours” Abbacchio said, her words directed at Guido as she pulled (S/o) into the aforementioned room and onto her bed. The gunswoman shrugged her agreement as she tossed her hat aside and followed after, flopping onto the bed with a grunt. The albino immediately busied herself with making out with (S/o) and pawing at his clothes hungrily. “Whatever, I still call dibs on his ass” Guido said with a smirk pulling her sweater and bra off in one motion before pressing her bare chest against (S/o)’s back as she nibbled on his neck. The young man managed to tear his mouth away from Abbacchio’s lips only to find his head forced down into the valley between her breasts. “Quit struggling or I’ll have to hurt you” the albino hissed even as she cradled (S/o)’s head in her cleavage and stroked his hair. Meanwhile, Guido’s hands had busied themselves undoing the buttons of the young man’s shirt between squeezes of his stomach and sides. (S/o)’s mind was running a mile a minute. Maybe there was a way he could get out of this mess alive, just maybe if he acted like he wanted this to happen they’d let him go... So after a deep breath, he stuck out his tongue and began to lick. He licked up and down the valley between Abbacchio’s breasts like his life depended on it. He nibbled on her neck and forced his hands to grab at the laces of her dress to tug them loose. All the while trying to ignore Guido’s hand that had dipped into his pants to feel around. His hands were temporarily removed from Abbacchio’s chest as the woman sat up and pulled his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders as well as letting the top of her dress droop to hang at her waist. It was now that (S/o) was made away that the dress’s cinched front has been the only thing holding the albino’s breasts in place as she grabbed his hands to guide them to her bosom before laying back once more. Clumsily, (S/o) squeezed at the soft mounds in his grip before resuming his nibbling only now with added gentle groping. “God you really are so cute” Guido muttered into (S/o)’s ear as she playfully squeezed his ass before yanking down both his pants and boxers in one go. “Specially this butt of yours” she went on giving his rump another squeeze. The young man let out an unwilling moan at the sensation which brought out a laugh from the gunswoman. “Quit teasing him so much” Abbacchio chided softly her hand wandering down (S/o)’s stomach past his navel to his cock which was already at half-mast despite his reluctance. Her long, clever fingers quickly brought him to full hardness and she placed a waxy kiss on his forehead. She released him to fully remove her dress and undergarments before loosely wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding teasing against him. Guido ceased her assault on (S/o)’s body only long enough to drop her skirt and panties. She then ground herself against the young man letting him feel the gun still strapped to her thigh before pulling away to rifle through the nightstand drawer. “Let’s see... perfect! You really do think of everything Abba” the gunswoman said blowing a kiss at the albino as she scooped up the supplies she needed from the drawer and slammed it shut. She carefully unstrapped the gun from her leg and set it under the bed before slipping on a sizable strap-on in its place. She dropped to her knees and grabbed (S/o)’s thighs to pull his ass towards her face. Her tongue started out to poke playfully at his pucker which drew out a yelp from the young man. “What? Never had your ass eaten before?” Guido asked rhetorically as she repeated the action with more force to slip her tongue inside. She wriggled her tongue like a worm to start loosing (S/o)’s hole up for her strap-on. The gunswoman let one of her hands drift up to tease the boy’s entrance as well with a finger slipping in with little trouble. “Relax, it will hurt more if you keep your muscles all tense” Abbacchio said resuming her stroking of (S/o)’s cock while using the other hand to tilt his chin up so she could kiss him. The young man tried to obey her words even as his legs began to shake. Then almost as if they could read each other’s minds, both women stopped their ministrations. Guido rose to her feet, lined herself up with (S/o)’s hole, and took hold of his hips before slowly sheathing herself in the young man’s ass. Almost immediately (S/o) began to struggle in pain of having something in his ass. He began to whimper out weak pleas for her to stop, to wait, to go slower, anything! “What do you mean it hurts?” Guido said in a low voice, for the first time sounding dangerous. “If it hurts, it’s because you’re struggling! Hold still and relax!” her tone was demanding and (S/o) had no choice but to obey by going limp. The gunswoman sunk the rest of the dildo into his until her tits were once more pressed against his back. “See? Was that so bad?” she said in a return to her playful tone as she made a hicky on (S/o)’s neck as she let him get accustomed to the feeling of fullness in his stomach. Abbacchio’s legs, which had been holding loosely all this time, tightened abruptly smashing her cunt against the head of (S/o)’s cock but failing to sink onto his shaft. “Lemme give you a hand Abba” Guido cooed one of her hands drifting from (S/o)’s hips to Abbacchio’s to help guide the albino so she could impale herself on the young man’s cock. (S/o)’s teeth dug into his bottom lip as the intense dual sensations. From the back he was before skewered on the gunswoman’s strap-on, from the front he was held in a vice-grip by the albino’s cunt. Guido pulling back and thrusting against his prostate broke (S/o) out of his daze. In an effort to get away from her attack he thrust forward but that only made Abbacchio squeeze him tighter in a vicious cycle. Eventually, he let himself just give in to the sensation and worry about the consequences later. “Say you love me” Abbacchio said seeming out of nowhere as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. When (S/o) only stared at her in silence her nails dig into his back. “Would that be so hard? I just need you to say you love me” she hissed out angrily. Bewildered, the young man said the requested phase and was rewarded by kisses and the albino’s hips bouncing against his at an even faster rate. “Don’t forget about me~ Say you love me or you won’t be cumming until the sun rises” Guido purred into (S/o)’s ear as she teased his nipples. Once more he repeated the words requested of him and was given an increased pace in return. Things began to get hazy before the young man finally came, spilling his seed into the albino woman’s depths. He felt her tighten around him again as her own climax rushed over her and she went limp. After that, it was long before the gunswoman’s hips came to a halt as she came from the end of the strap-on in her cunt. All the parties panted heavily as the high slowly ebbed. Guido pulled out and discarded her strap-on onto the floor to worn out to care as she flopped on the bed next to the still entangled pair. Weakly (S/o) pulled out from Abbacchio’s cunt, wincing at the flood of cum that spilled out at his exit. He tried to move off the bed to leave but was pulled down by both women who held tight to his limbs. “Where you think you’re going cutie? Haven’t you heard of pillow talk or cuddles?” Guido said playfully pulling (S/o)’s head against her chest as Abbacchio wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. It was only now that (S/o) really began to regret going out on a date that night... THE END

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

Blue Eyes Part 21

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 21: Lies at Margate lead to Ella’s breaking point.

Alfie came upon the stash quite by accident. It had been two weeks at Margate and things were going better than he could’ve imagined. Ella was slowly returning to the woman he fell in love with. Her bubbly nature coming back to life after shriveling up in a hospital room for so long. She didn’t speak much about her lost children but Alfie figured that one day they would come to terms with the loss in a healthier way. At that moment, he wanted to focus on her health.

Ella was out on her daily morning walk with Cyril, strolling along the frigid ocean. Alfie had stayed behind because the brisk air was doing a number on his hip. Instead, he remained inside with Anthea who was more content to play indoors.

As he flicked through paperwork, he kicked a ball back and forth for Anthea’s amusement. The growing pitbull bouncing to and fro trying to catch the ball, skittering across the wood floors of the cottage.

Eventually, the ball became wedged under the sofa. Anthea whined and scratched at the cushions, much too large to fit under the narrow space.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get it,” Alfie grunted as he stood and went over to the couch. “Where’d it go then?” He knelt down and tried to spot the ball. “All the way back there? Fucking hell…” He grumbled and practically had to lay down so he could reach under the couch. He groped around the dusty space until he came across something. It didn’t feel like the rubber ball that was slobbery and had chew marks. Instead, it felt like a piece of cloth.

Curious, Alfie fished out the mystery item and brought it into the light. It was a large kerchief that was tied up. As he maneuvered the cloth, a clinking sound came from within. It didn’t look at all familiar to him so he untied it and opened it up. As he did, a vial tumbled out and fell to the ground. Luckily, it didn’t break but simply rolled to a stop.

A sickening feeling gripped Alfie as he saw the entire kerchief was full of the bottles all with a various amount of liquid inside. He searched through a few of them and found that they all bore the same hospital label with dates from when Ella was in recovery.

It didn’t take Alfie long to crack the case. His wife had been hoarding doses of morphine when she was in the hospital, most likely because once she was at Arrow House she had no access to the vials.

Suddenly enraged that he’d been played a fool, Alfie bundled up the kerchief and stormed outside. Gripping the makeshift sack tightly, he traveled down the dunes to the shoreline.

~~~~~~~~

Ella was just returning from down the beach, Cyril already wet from romping about in the cold waves. The bullmastiff galloped toward him, his tail wagging.

His wife smiled when she saw him coming. “Is your hip feeling a bit better?” She asked once they were close enough to hear each other over the crashing waves.

Alfie tossed the vials onto the sand between them. “What the fuck is that?” He demanded.

Ella’s face lost all its color. She swallowed and shook her head. “I-I didn’t…”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ella!” He jabbed a finger at her. “You tell me that you’ve been hiding this from me the entire time I was trying to take care of you.” He accused.

“I couldn’t do it, Alfie!” She cried. “I was too sick an-and I wasn’t properly taken off of it.” Tears stung her eyes. “I felt like I was dying!”

“Unbelievable.” Alfie ran a hand over his mouth in disbelief and turned away from her to pace a few steps. “Fucking unbelievable. I trusted you and this is how you thank me.”

“Well, fine. You can’t trust me. I’m a fucking Shelby, isn’t that right?” Ella held her arms out wide. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

“No. No.” He turned around. “None of that. I’m sick of that. The names and all that shit. You’re my fucking wife, that’s what you are. I promised I wouldn’t lie to you and you did the same.”

“I wasn’t taking it.” Ella crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at him.

“Good, then you won’t be bothered if I toss this nonsense in the sea.” Alfie stooped down to gather the vials up in the cloth.

His wife twitched violently and she lurched forward. “Don’t you fucking dare.” She snarled.

“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” He retorted and held the stash away from her. “You look me in the eyes and you tell me that you weren’t fucking touching any of it.”

She was silent and didn’t move an inch. Instead, she looked out over the ocean and did her best to ignore the internal itching. The itch that demanded she do whatever it took to get those little bottles back. But she refused to go through another withdrawal. Not when she felt like she was mere inches away from death. Not when she woke up in a cold sweat seeing the blue eyes of her children. No. If it killed her then so be it.

Alfie hardly had enough time to react to Ella pulling out a gun. She pointed it right to her temple, her finger resting on the trigger.

Her husband’s eyes widened. “Ella…”

“I’ve had it!” She shouted across the beach at him. “This is how it goes! I’m a Shelby and we’re cursed!”

“Ella, put the gun down.”

“No!” She sobbed, her hand shaking violently. “No-no I’ve had it. I wanted them, Alfie. I wanted them because they were mine! They were supposed to be mine. They were supposed to be born here.”

Alfie kept his distance just in case a sudden movement caused her to react. “Listen to me…just listen for a moment. Okay? Listen.” He tried to soothe softly; his eye kept on the gun. From how badly her hand was trembling it was only a matter of time before it went off.

“I-I can’t…”

“You can, you can listen for a moment. Please, love, put the gun down and come over to me.” He coaxed as if she were a spooked horse. “Ella, I’m begging you. I know you’re in pain but I ain’t going anywhere. I’m gonna be standing right here. I can’t live without you, love.”

“It hurts.” She wailed but she slowly began to lower the gun away from her head.

“I know, love, I promise it’ll get better.” He held his arms out to her and began to inch towards her. “C’mon, c’mere.”

Finally, Ella set the gun down in the sand and took a few staggering steps towards her husband. Alfie caught her before she fell and sank to the ground with her. He hadn’t noticed he was shaking too until he had her safe in his arms. His heart was pounding so badly it was hard to hear the waves nearby. But he could hear her crying.

Cyril came over and nosed his way between the two, licking at their tears.

“There you are…I’ve gotcha.” Alfie rocked her back and forth. “I won’t let go.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ella didn’t watch as Alfie discarded the vials. She was curled up in the sunroom, her entire body trembling. Alfie draped a blanket over her for comfort and shepherded the dogs into the room to keep her company while he called around.

Tommy didn’t answer on the first ring, neither did Ada. Karl answered and said his mum was out running errands. So, Alfie called Polly. In all honesty, he felt stupid for not trying her first. He considered her very wise and level-headed compared to the majority of Ella’s family.

“Have her withdrawals come back?” Ella’s aunt asked after Alfie gave her the gist of what happened that day.

“No, she admitted she took some this morning.” He answered and scratched his beard. “I thought things were looking up…didn’t fucking think I was this clueless.”

“She’s always been good at hiding things. She managed to hide you from her brothers for a good while.” Polly pointed out.

Alfie smiled weakly and shook his head. How simple things were back then. All he had to worry about was Tommy, Arthur, and John trying to kill him. He’d take that any day over Ella suffering. “I’m scared for her. She was so sick withdrawing last time.” “You don’t want to see her like that.” The woman surmised.

It made him feel guilty at the thought. He wasn’t the one suffering through the awful pain of quitting something as addictive as morphine. Shouldn’t he be lucky to be on the other side? But deep down, it made his gut turn thinking about another withdrawal. The last once had put such a strain on their relationship. It tore at him inside and out to see his wife in agony. The uncontrollable shakes, the vomiting, the unyielding sadness. She didn’t deserve any of it. But life wouldn’t give her a break it seemed.

“What do you suggest?” Alfie asked instead of answering Polly.

“Maybe you two need some time apart.” She suggested cautiously. After Alfie and Ella had arrived in Small Heath, Polly got a clear enough of a picture of their relationship. The man was obviously fiercely protective over her and yet absolutely head over heels for her. When she moved, so did he. What happened when a planet was knocked out of its orbit around a star? Was it possible to find its way back?

Alfie gritted his teeth. “I need to be here for her, I promised.”

“Being there for her doesn’t mean you’re glued to her side, Alfie,” Polly replied firmly. “What if giving her some time was your way of supporting her?”

Although the concept sounded terrifying to him, Polly’s sage manner made him consider it. Most likely if Tommy had suggested the same thing, Alfie would either laugh at him or tell him to fuck right off. “Where would she even go?” He asked after mulling over the option.

“I suppose you could ask her.”

“Yeah, I guess I can.” Alfie turned and looked down the hall to the closed door. Could he be making things difficult for her? Would she be able to find clarity on her own for a bit? He knew he would sacrifice the sun and moon for that woman. So, what was a little time apart? Heart-wrenching, that’s what it was. But Alfie knew something had to give.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Traveler therapy. It sounded absolutely ridiculous to Alfie. But the man was hesitant to be away from his wife for the length of time Tommy was talking about.

“The Lees are like family.” The Shelby man explained upon Ella and Alfie’s return from Margate to London. Alfie mentioned Polly’s suggestion of space to his wife. Ella appeared wary and hesitant. The larger part of her wanted to cling desperately to Alfie, afraid she would lose him. But there was something inside of her that grasped onto the words. A solution, perhaps. Her Alfie’s burden lifted for just a brief time. Her focus turned inward. Was that so bad?

“She already knows most of them. One of the girls just lost a baby to pneumonia so she’ll have someone who can understand what she’s going through better than any of us can.”

Alfie pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. “Right, so you talking ‘bout a month or what?”

“It’s up to her. She wants to go.”

“I ain’t…tryna control where she goes or fucking whatever, but how’m I supposed to know she’ll be safe?” He asked. The nerves of being separated from Ella were far greater than he expected. It’d been quite some time since they’d gone more than a few days without seeing one another. He’d gotten accustomed to having her as his constant in life.

“She’ll be perfectly safe,” Tommy assured him. “They know the land better than anyone.”

“Right…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, well, I want her to be happy, yeah, so if that’s what she wants.”

“It’ll be good for her. Mark my words.”

~~~~~~~~~~

So a few days later when things were settled and agreed upon, Alfie traveled with Ella to the outskirts of the city where the Lees were camped. Cassandra Lee, one of the matriarchs, came out to greet them.

“Look how much you have grown, chavi. But all skin and bones! I will make you something to eat.” The older woman kissed Ella’s cheeks and embraced her.

The scent of damp pine and roaring fires sparked something that had long been suppressed in Ella. The wild gypsy girl who loved to be outside as much as she could. The girl who begged to sleep out under the stars and go hunting with her brothers. It was a miracle it had been kept under wraps for so long. When for so long she’d insist she’d always be the princess knight of the forest.

“Come, Isabel has been expecting you.” Cassandra took Ella’s bag.

“Right, well, I’ll be getting a move on then.” Alfie cleared his throat. He had no idea what Cassandra said but took it as his time to leave. “Tommy said you maybe could call sometimes…or write. But I uh…don’t want you to think you hafta. This is ‘bout you, yeah?” He forced a weak smile. “Just know I love you and I hope you ain’t gonna find some gypsy boy who’s a bit more spry than your ol’ husband.”

Ella’s blue eyes brimmed with tears. “You silly man.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve found the love of my life and I intend to return to him.”

Alfie sighed and hugged her back. “Come back to me, El.” He kissed her temple. “You take your time and you come back to me how you like.”

She smiled and pulled him in for a long kiss. “Absence makes the heart fonder.” She whispered softly against his lips.

“Yeah, love. It sure does.” He already missed her.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

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#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #tommy shelby #polly gray #angst #fluff #tom hardy character #tom hardy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character

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the-l-spacer · 4 years ago

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(Ch 1) (Ch 2)

Summary: Lloyd wakes up one morning to discover that, on a whim, the Metaverse had decided to release him and Raven from the Lovers archetype they had been locked in for as long as either could remember.

In the process, however, reality became… just a little screwed up.

Now, Raven is gone, and in his place is David Adams. David Adams, who had never left Ashland, working middle-management at Justacorp. David Adams, who had never heard the anvils, never jumped off Warner's Peak.

But Lloyd remembers everything, and he makes it his personal quest to win back the love of his life.

...No matter how many 'strictly professional' coffee dates it took.

I started a (hopefully) multi-chapter, Raven-kind-of-has-amnesia fic! Title and everything's still very much a work in progress, and this chapter is more an introduction than anything, but I hope y’all enjoy reading anyways!!

The last thing Raven says to Lloyd before he (quite literally) vanishes the next morning is a semi-conscious, “Good night, my love,” mumbled into the latter’s chest as they both fall asleep.

Not that he knows of his boyfriend’s disappearance just yet, of course. For now, Lloyd Allen is asleep. Well, half-asleep, roused from a dream he can no longer remember by a rather odd sensation in his chest, a sensation that he promptly attempts to shake off, willing himself to sink back into slumber.

He succeeds with the former, though the Metaverse always finds other ways to keep him from the latter.

This time, it’s the mid-morning sun that does it, filtering in through a gap in the bedroom’s curtains, casting a single, warm beam of light across the bed. When the light reaches his face, Lloyd shuts his eyes tighter, burrowing deep under the covers.

“Mmmmfgh,” he groans. “Ravey, draw the curtains.”

When he doesn’t feel the responding shift in the mattress, nor hear the sounds of curtains being pulled, shielding his precious eyes against the sun, his half-conscious mind is consumed by halfhearted annoyance. He really didn’t know what else he expected, considering Raven was always the heavier sleeper.

Eyes still closed, he stretches out his arm, meaning to rouse his (presumably) unconscious partner. Instead of feeling Raven’s telltale warmth, however, his hand connects with nothing but an empty expanse of bed.

Fully awake now (and against his will, too), Lloyd sits up and stretches, preparing to give Raven — probably up and outside without having the decency to give his boyfriend his precious five minutes extra sleep — a good telling-to. He swings his legs to the edge of the bed, and at long last, gets up with a final, drawn-out groan.

He first realises that something is decidedly off when that strange feeling in his chest returns full-force as he’s brushing his teeth.

“This again?” He aims the question, garbled through foam, at his sleepy-eyed self in the mirror.

Spit, rinse, close the faucet, done.

He regards his reflection once again. “No response, hmm?”

More silence.

“Well, I’ll just have to work this out for myself. No thanks to you, and no thanks to Ravey, apparently. I have no idea how he’s up before I am.”

He goes through a mental list of everything that could have possibly gone wrong. Heart attack? No, there would be other accompanying signs. Some other heart condition? Impossible, at least not if the folks who built his body on the Singularity had anything to say about it.

Anxiety? It is a possibility, but what does he have to be anxious about? Compared to where he was a scant year ago, his current position of ‘Carnival Co-Runner, Trainer of One Not-So-New-Now Post-Human, and not to forget, Possessor of an Actual Living, Breathing, Positively Spry Human Body’ is downright enviable.

Perhaps it’s simply dehydration, he decides. He and Ravey did have quite a bit to drink the night before, nothing a quick trip to their small, cosy kitchen couldn’t solve. Plus, he hasn’t quite ruled out the anxiety option. Maybe, in the haze of alcohol and festivities (yesterday being their time-is-fluid-th pre-anniversary, and all), his boyfriend had talked about pulling yet another zero-gravity, hair-whitening stunt. He swears to question him once he finds him, probably in the kitchen nursing his morning hangover over a cup of strong coffee.

But when he doesn’t. When all telltale signs of life in the kitchen — the smell of cooking, of roasting coffee beans, of a chair askew or messy countertops — are simply nonexistent, that’s when Lloyd knows that something is very, very wrong.

Because the kitchen isn’t just empty, it’s as if no one but him had occupied it ever since its construction. There is one, lone kitchen chair tucked neatly at the table, a single mug, one set of silverware, and when Lloyd dashes back to the bathroom to confirm that he isn’t just hallucinating, one toothbrush, his own.

It isn’t just these rooms either. The living room coffee table, which Lloyd is certain would be filled with bottles and wine glasses in the wake of the previous night, is completely empty, and gone from various surfaces are the framed photos of him and Ravey at the carnival, at the Second Playhouse’s opening night. Even their wardrobe isn’t spared, devoid of the violent splash of purple brought by his other half’s various coats, vests, dresses, shirts and heels.

The sensation of wrongness doubles in intensity, made worse by the rapid thump-thump-thumping of his heart. Lloyd’s shaking knees give way, depositing him onto Raven’s side of the bed, cold and bare.

It is then he finally realises exactly what he’s feeling. The sensation is his heart is emptiness, something alien to him ever since he had gotten his body back and returned home to nothing but light and love (and a near-death experience, though that was an accident and hardly counted), even the memory of his hilariously disastrous homecoming sending another icy knife through his chest.

Raven is gone. With it, a piece of himself has been ripped away, and all Lloyd feels is empty.

The rest of his morning is spent in a daze, running around the carnival, asking every worker, Floozy, honorary Floozy and Hell Hag he passes if they had seen his boyfriend.

“Nope, sorry Lloyd.”

“Haven’t seen him. Isn’t he usually with you?”

“Sorry sugar, No sign of Raven Baby ‘round here just yet.”

A flurry of activity — people setting up booths, clearing the last of the previous day’s detritus, cranking the ferris wheel in preparation for the guests who would arrive from wherever the Carnival decides to park itself for the day — swirls around him, but Lloyd registers none of it. He runs and searches every corner of the place, until his hunt takes him to the last stop, Han Mi’s trailer.

Han hears the feeble knock on her door, and decides not to say anything when she opens it to a panting, wild-eyed Lloyd, who promptly proceeds to wobble past her, collapsing onto her couch, head in his hands.

“Okay, so you didn’t remember to take your shoes off before coming in, I assume you’ve got bad news.”

Through the gap in his fingers, Lloyd mutters a soft, “Shit. Sorry, Han,” before kicking his shoes off and toward the half-open door.

“Don’t worry about it,” Han sighs, and slides a chair over, taking a seat opposite the man. Not beside. They aren’t quite there yet.

A brief moment of silence passes, before Lloyd speaks up. “This is probably an exercise in futility, but. I don’t suppose you’ve seen Raven around this morning, have you?”

Letting out a sympathetic whistle, Han says, “No dice, sorry. I woke up, like, fifteen minutes ago, and I think I’d know if Raven was in my trailer. He isn’t with you or the Floozies?”

Lloyd deflates, letting his head fall backward to rest against the wall behind him. Addressing the ceiling, he says, “He very much isn’t. I checked everywhere, and this was my last stop.”

“Maybe he’s running a quick errand in another narrative,” Han offers.

“No. It’s not just that Raven’s gone from the carnival, he’s.” Lloyd scrubs a hand across his eyes, and rests his gaze on her. “He’s vanished completely. All his clothes, his personal items, his photos. It’s like he had never even existed.”

“Wait. What?” Han Mi’s eyes go wide. “Does everyone else know about this?”

“They only know that I can’t find him. You’re the first person I’ve told about… the rest. And there’s more.”

“Wait. Before you tell me, have you eaten yet? Drank anything? You look like a wreck… no offence.”

“None taken, and no, I haven’t. There hasn’t been time to, with,” Lloyd vaguely gestures, “everything that’s been happening.”

“Well, if he’s really up and disappeared, a little time taken to catch your breath couldn’t hurt, could it?” Sure, she was still mad at the shit Lloyd pulled as the writer for the Cabaret, but she didn’t hate him. And she knew painfully what it was like to lose someone she loved.

Lloyd begins to protest, but Han silences him with a glare. She’s persuasive like that.

“Are we doing carrot cake?” He manages feebly.

Han nods. “We’re doing carrot cake.”

#shaperaverse #new albion #Paul shapera #im working on the next chapter aaaaaaa #writings

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prettylittlehargrove · 5 years ago

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Party Crashers

Request - Here

Summary - Billy and Mayor Clines daughter are in a super secret relationship, but things become a little restless and the truth gets revealed by accident... but not in the best way...

Warnings - Tommy being a bit of a creep lmao, Alcohol consumption, Mentions of underaged drinking, a small mention of drugs

Word Count - 2048 , I finally counted them yay!! x

Authors Notes - This was a hefty one and i’m so sorry it was so late, ive been super preoccupied and I also wanted to make this to the best of my abilities and I hope you enjoy it! x

Everyone in Hawkins knew you. Everyone.

A lot of people would think of this as some popularity dream come true, but in all honesty it was a nightmare. Any hope at a relationship was diminished due to a lack of privacy, even going to the store at the weekend people made a fuss.

“The mayors daughter bought meat? Does she hate animals?” Or “Y/N L/N caught smoking!” And your personal favourite “The Mayors Soon To Be A Grandad”. That was after a certain Harrington got caught making out with you behind his car.

That was another problem with relationships, you were constantly being set up with rich kids who owned islands and beaches. Steve was the most casual relationship you’d had after his parents started to cozy up to your father. Unfortunately that didn’t end on the best of terms, both of you growing apart romantically and only really wanting to keep in sexual contact till you officially broke it off.

But then he came. Sun kissed skin and golden curls, he was the definition of a bad boy. Someone your parents would hate the thought of you dating. Billy Hargrove.

He was the everything you’d been told to walk away from. But instead you walked towards him, and soon enough you’d formed yourself a secret relationship.

Making out in his camaro at midnight, down by an old wreck on the outskirts of town. Fucking in your bed at the dead of night whilst he held your hands. Cuddling up on his sofa whilst you got out of your mind high.

He was a rush of adrenaline in your boring and plain life.

Every event you went to, your mind would wonder to the way his hands felt on your body, or how soft his lips were.

Everything was simply divine.

Tommy pulled a flyer from his bag and waved it around in Billy’s face. “There’s a fancy ass party up at the lakeside mansion, and I’d say we crash it tonight, theres gonna be beer and shit, they probably do drugs too man, all rich people do drugs right?” He blabbed, a sure fantasy made up in his mind about some crazy party going on.

“Sure whatever, but you’re in the shit if there’s no beer k?” He chuckled, flicking his cigarette on the floor. His eyes gazed around the parking lot, trying to scope you out. Usually, he didn’t have that hard a time, your elegant stature and bounce in your step drew obvious attention towards you. Finally he caught sight of the familiar heels that clicked against the concrete.

“Y/L Cline man... fuck if I wasn’t with Carol I’d fucking-“ Billy elbowed him harshly and dragged his eyes to look at the rest of you.

“I gotta go” he mumbled, heading to your usual make out spot, the back of the school, behind the bike shed.

You did the same, waving goodbye to your friends to go ‘do some errand’.

Quietly, you looked around to make sure the coast was clear before heading behind the shed to meet with Billy.

“Heya Princess” he winked, his arms were open as he engulfed you into a strong hug. Squeezing you a little before pulling away. You leaned up on your tip toes and gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Can we pretty please hang out tonight? It’s my birthday tmr and I wanna make sure I get to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to go to some shoddy event...” Billy sighed, remembering back to Tommy.

“I wanna so bad princess, but Tommy asked me to do something with him... and I’ve kinda stood him up like 5-6 times already, I’m an asshole but not a jerk” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek one last time.

“Well be safe and don’t get too drunk or high, because I’m not prepared to try and heave a 5,10 brute through my window again... mr muscles..” giving his bicep a quick squeeze. “Oh and before I forget, here’s your lunch... Maxine told me to make something with jam in it” Billy’s face lit up, food being something that always got him in a good mood.

“Thank you angel, and you can call her Max if you want... I only call her Maxine because it pisses her off etc..” His voice lowered a little in embarrassment and slight shame.

“Don’t worry, I tease my younger cousins all the time” you giggled, handing him his sandwich and giving him a tight hug. “See you when I see you, and I’m expecting a birthday kiss tomorrow!” You giggled and headed away from the spot.

9pm headed around the corner as Billy waited outside Tommy’s house.

“Thought your parents were rich as shit, why aren’t you going?” He muttered, lighting a cigarette.

“Not as rich as these fuckers... probably related to royalty or something.. gonna get so wasted tonight” Tommy chuckled. “So we sneak in through the back and head across the hall towards the wine cellar, and then figure it out from there” The plan was stupid enough, let alone Tommy’s fantasy that he was gonna get beyond wasted.

Your mother fussed around the house, dressed in a gown with her hair tied up and prepped. “Y/N! Why aren’t you ready? The party is in an hour and you’re in your dinner wear?” She scolded, heading down the hall, muttering something or other about how irresponsible you were.

In all fairness you’d completely forgot about this party, it was a small celebration by your fathers lake house. A few kids from your old middle school would be there, probably dressed in diamonds and crystals. Private school wasn’t your favourite place in the world...

Quickly, you shoved on a gown from your wardrobe and did it up. Your mother rushed into the room, pulling your arm to take you to her bedroom where she curled your hair and applied some makeup to your face. “Can’t believe you’re wearing this old thing darling... there’s a pink dress in there that I bought especially for this event” she huffed. So you scuttled off down the hall and carefully stripped yourself of the green gown, being aware that you had a full face of makeup and hair was sprayed perfectly into place. The pink dress was pretty and hung perfectly on your frame... a bit flouncy but still beautiful.

Finally you were ready, getting into your fathers car and heading straight for your birthday party thingy.

Billy heaved Tommy up the wall and over into the garden.

Tux on and everything. If he was to say so himself, Billy thought he looked quite handsome, might keep it on and surprise you later.

They both landed on some bush and wiped themselves down, climbing from the foliage.

“There it is, the lake house. These really are some rich fuckers” Tommy smirked, admiring the huge mansion, lit up with classical music coming from it.

“Right, but I don’t see any bear?” A low growl causing Tommy to twiddle his thumbs.

“Eh well maybe there might not be beer, but! There might be... ok truth is these guys have a daughter and I’ve heard that she’s hella hot so I kinda wanna see for myself ya know” Billy rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You have a girlfriend”

“You don’t”

“Yeah I - I don’t” Billy stiffened up, remembering the pinkie promise you’d forced him to make.

“Right so let’s go get you laid, and then you can tell me everything” He smirked, eyebrows wiggling as he pushed Billy towards the house.

“Look man I’m tired”

“Bullshit” he chuckled, pushing him through the doors. The house was indeed grand, marble check floors with beautiful fluffy rugs and a glamorous chandelier hanging in the middle.

“Who the hell owns this place?” Tommy shrugged and dusted off his tux.

“No way... I think there is beer” The mischievous grin played on Tommy’s face as he spied a rather large old man swigging back some liquid.

You sat glumly with Sabrina, she chatted on about how ravish her private school life was and how perfect everything was going, something like that. Your mind wondering to Billy, how he’s probably high as hell right now without you. Everything was boring and dull without him.

“Dude! Let’s check out upstairs” Tommy grabbed Billy’s arm and hauled him up the stairs a long corridor of various doors facing them. A voice started to make its way up the stairs to, quickly Tommy shoved himself and Billy into the first door. They both stumbled and fell into the huge room.

“Holy shit dude... this is the chicks room” Tommy slurred, that clearly wasn’t beer that he was chugging back.

Slowly Billy took in the surroundings. His eyes focusing on a picture on the dresser. Was that him? Then it dawned on him.

Who was rich, had a lake house and was a chick? His girlfriend.

Fuck.

Tommy started to shift through the closet, grabbing a pair of panties and holding them up.

“Woah... she’s foxy” he was hammered.

“Give me those” Billy snatched the panties out of Tommy’s hand.

The voice that had been following them got louder. Quickly Billy grabbed Tommy and pulled him into the other side of the bed, forcing him to duck.

“So this is my daughters room... goodness, it’s quite a mess, I apologise she doesn’t-“ A loud thud cut off your mother’s words. She let out a screech as two teenage boys stumbled from behind the bed. One drunk and laughing, the other looking like a deer in the headlights.

And that very moment led to Billy sat in front of the very Mayor himself, you sat right next to him and Tommy sitting against the wall.

“He’s my boyfriend and I tried to sneak him in” you mumbled, fuddling with your fingers, trying your best to not get Billy into trouble.

“So you snuck him through the window? Look I don’t want to hear it anymore, you can’t see him again, and you boy, if you come near my daughter again I’ll have you out of this town fast” Your father was beyond mad. He looked about ready to kill.

“But dad-“

“She didn’t sneak me in, it’s not her fault, I just wanted to surprise her and I chose the wrong night” billy piped up, looking at the floor.

“Surprise her? Why?”

“Because it’s her birthday tomorrow and we probably wouldn’t have seen eachother on the day because you usually plan stuff out for her... so I came early”

“Without a gift?”

“Dad-“

“I don’t have much money sir but I do have a gift for her”

“What is it?”

“DAD?!” You squeaked, “look I’m tired of this, it doesn’t matter anyway, I love Billy but clearly you only ever care if he’s got money or if he’s some private school kid but I don’t care because he’s amazing and none of that matters” You sternly presented your point. Grabbing Billy’s hand and squeezing it.

“Fine, be with him but don’t expect to come running to me for comfort when he leaves you high and dry, and also if you break my daughters heart-“

“Dad... he gets it” you muttered, looking in Billy’s eyes. A small smile on both of your faces. Quietly your mother stood smiling to herself, rembering when her own father had yelled at her for dating some bad boy, turns out that bad boy became the mayor so jokes on him she chuckled to herself. History sure does repeat itself.

Tommy’s snores came from the back of the room.

“Dipshit wake up” Billy shoved his leg.

“Fuck off” Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed, Carol was gonna kill him.

“Langauge” you scolded both of them, taking Billy into the party again.

“I think we should head to your room” Billy whispered. You gave him a playful smack on the arm.

“We just got told off we can’t do that now-“ Billy held his hand out, a certain pair of lace panties in his palm.

“Why do you have those?!”

“Tommy’s a fucking perv” he grunted, as you both shuffled back into your room.

It was gonna be nice not to have to hide Billy anymore.

#Billy Hargrove #billy x reader #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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writerbyaccident · 5 years ago

Text

Flower Language (Yandere DabixReader)

Request: possessive/obsessive dabi falling in love with a kind and sweet flower shop employee that tried to cheer him up as he was walking by one day because he looked Pissed (probably tomuras fault). that little innocent conversation turns into hardcore stalking that comes to a very angry boiling point when he finds out she has a boyfriend.

So @sweetened-apples recently got an ask very similar to this, I really don’t like the thought of copying anyone, but I’ve had this in my inbox for a little while now and they didn’t write a full piece for it, so @sweetened-apples, if you see this, I hope that’s okay! You’ve been a big inspiration for my blog so I’d hate to step on your toes!

Stalking down the street, Dabi kicked any stray pebble unfortunate to cross his path. The other people on the street gave him a wide berth as he passed, able to sense his irritated mood and deciding to proceed with caution. With his tense shoulders, harsh steps, and prominent scowl, it was clear that Dabi was not in the mood to tolerate any stares. It probably helped that, even though this wasn’t a particularly crime-ridden part of town, it was still the city. The people there were far too busy and self-involved to really worry about some surly young man with a chip on his shoulder. That was just how he liked it though. No matter his disdain for the population at large, Dabi didn’t like to take his anger out on totally random people. He had seen where that led, and he wasn’t eager to continue that particular family tradition. Besides, the league had enough of that just from Shigaraki. He couldn’t promise anything though if someone actually dared to bother him.

So as Dabi trudged past the various shops and restaurants that this particular street held, he fully expected to be left alone. But it turned out that you had other ideas. Stopping to pick up a slightly tattered dollar bill, he hardly noticed you as you finished placing some hanging plants on the awning of the florist’s shop Dabi was currently standing in front of. You had seen him though, it was hard to miss the glowering atmosphere he was carrying with him. Even when he paused near you, the vibe he gave off was definitely one of being pissed off. Arguing with yourself, you internally debated whether you should say something or just let him pass by. It would be simpler, your more rational side argued, and you hardly wanted to start off your day by getting yelled at by some angry pedestrian. But the softer, louder side of you reminded you that sometimes a stranger’s simple intervention could save a person’s day. After all, it had saved too many of your days to count. So, gathering your courage, you approached Dabi just as he was standing up from picking up his lucky find and tapped his shoulder.

Like a trap that had suddenly sprung, Dabi whirled around to see who was bothering him. Rage reaching a boiling point, he was about to snap at you, already opening his mouth to do so. But when he saw you smiling shyly at him, he snapped his mouth shut. He couldn’t quite explain it, but something in him told him that he shouldn’t just scare you off. So instead, he simply stared at you, tracing over your warm eyes and sweet smile, distantly wondering if your lips felt as soft as they looked. You didn’t look at him with disgust or—god forbid—pity. No, you looked at him like he was a person, and in his eyes, that made you something even better. After a moment, once you were sure that he wasn’t about to start yelling at you for annoying him, you opened your mouth to speak.

“Uh—hi,” you started, unsure how to begin now that you had his attention. “I, um, don’t want to bother you or anything, but are you alright?” At your words, Dabi felt himself unable to respond. He had never been struck speechless before, but then again, he had never heard a voice as sweet as yours before. He knew then that he could listen to it for hours. He wanted to hear you say everything with that voice of yours, from words of endearment to expressions of fear, but his name most of all. Realizing that he should respond before you decided he wasn’t worth your time, he pushed himself to answer.

“I’m better now,” he said with a lazy grin, the tension having long left his body. Briefly casting your eyes to the ground at his answer, you felt heat begin to rush to your face. Dabi enjoyed the sight, relishing the opportunity to see you react to him so timidly. It was a good look for you, he decided, at least when reacting to him. He wondered what other kinds of expressions he could get you to make.

“Well,” you said, lifting your eyes back up to meet his bright sapphire ones and picking out a single blue Gentiana Verna, “still, take this. I bet you need it more than the shop does.” If he wasn’t already, Dabi became utterly hooked at that moment. How could he not be? You were so kind, so friendly, that the sight of you was practically mouth-watering, as cliché as that sounded to him. But considering the people he hung around, and the uncaring, self-centered people that populated the rest of the world, you were truly a rarity. And hey, you had approached him, so as far as Dabi was concerned that made you fair game. That was, for him at least.

From that day forward, the flower shop became a frequent place for Dabi to stop by. Really, it was almost too easy to find out your schedule, it was like you wanted him to visit you. Apparently finding nothing odd about his increasing stops at your place of work, you chatted with Dabi each time he came in. No matter what mood he was in when he entered, he always left with a slight smirk on his face. But as much as he loved interrupting your shifts, he got a very special kind of satisfaction watching you outside of work. Whether it was running errands, reading in the park, or sipping tea in a café, everything you did was utterly enthralling to him. Thankfully you never spotted him while he watched you, he knew you probably wouldn’t take it the right way. Really though, what did you expect from him? You were his, and that meant every moment of yours was his too.

Knowing that just meant he was all the more disappointed in you though, when he discovered your betrayal. Walking into the shop and grabbing a flower at random, he sauntered over the cash register where he knew you would be waiting. When he saw another guy already there chatting with you, he scowled, glaring at the back of the guy’s head. In all honesty, he hated to see you talking to other people, especially other men. You were his, and he didn’t like other people touching what was his. And he knew that this was really just a part of your job, being nice to the customers who ventured in, but he knew that from a pretty girl like you, other men wouldn’t take it that way. Frankly, he wished this guy would just take a fucking hint. It wasn’t like how you had been with him after all, you had gone above and beyond for him.

“Oh, hi, Dabi!” you suddenly called out. “I didn’t see you there!” Smirking to himself, Dabi stepped forward so that he was standing right next to the other guy.

“Hey,” he answered, glad for the opportunity to show this shithead who exactly you belonged to.

“Harou, this is my favorite customer, the one I was telling you about!” Confused by your statement, Dabi finally turned to look at the man beside him. Dabi had a few inches on the guy, and decided to use them to his advantage as he glared Harou down, but the other man just smiled with the peace of someone who knew he had already won.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Harou asked.

“Uh, no offense,” Dabi said, implying offense with every word he spoke, “but who are you?”

“Oh, right,” you replied with a chuckle, “Dabi, this is my boyfriend, Harou. He was away visiting some family, but he just got back home and decided to visit me at work.”

“How nice of him,” Dabi growled, refusing to break eye contact with his newfound rival. “Although, you know, I never took you for that type.”

“What type?” you asked cautiously, wondering where he could possibly be going with this.

“The type to settle for a sniveling little shit like him.” Gasping at his words, Dabi finally got to see what you looked like when you were angry. It wasn’t exactly the context he would have picked, but he had to admit that you did look particularly cute.

“That was way out of line,” you said stiffly. “I think you should leave.”

“Oh? And what if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you leave,” your boyfriend spat. But Dabi just laughed.

“Oh, I’m fucking terrified,” he threw back sarcastically. “I’ll be even more scared if you stop looking like you’re about to piss yourself.”

“Dabi, if you don’t leave,” you said, “I’ll call the cops.”

“Okay, I’ll leave,” he chuckled. “But only if you come with me.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you!” Harou shouted, clenching his fists. Clucking his tongue, Dabi simply lifted one of his hands and let his signature blue flames dance over his fingertips.

“You really so sure about that?” But even as he threatened your boyfriend, he noticed that more and more people were peering into the shop, curious as to what was going on. Knowing that it wouldn’t be long before a hero joined the scene, Dabi sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes, lowering his hand.

“I would love to keep this going,” he sneered at the two of you, “but it looks like we’re starting to attract a crowd. Don’t worry though, I’ll see you soon babe.” And before you could respond, Dabi turned on his heel and stalked away. You thought he was just bluffing, but little did you know that he planned to keep his promise. Even as he walked away, he was already figuring out just when he would come back for you. And teach that shithead a lesson while he was at it.

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snarky-badger · 6 years ago

Note

Could I have maybe a love Triangle between Eddies best friend (who has super strength) Anne and Venom? Maybe S/O sees the way Venom is so careful with Anne? And is a little jealous? Cause she wants Venom to look at her like that? Maybe Eddie/Venom read her text messages to her friend about how much she actually likes him?

[text messages]

You’d met Eddie at work. He was a new up and coming journalist, just transitioning from being in front of the camera to the printed word. On his first day, he’d looked so lost and on edge, shoulders hunched a little as he’d stared at his new desk and cubicle, that you’d quickly gone up and introduced yourself, if only to reassure him that no, the people there didn’t bite.

He’d been a little wary at first, but relaxed quickly, especially as you’d given him the short tour that had included a quick demo on how to kick the photocopier in just the right way to get it working.

A friendship between the two of you had grown, rather quickly. You traded information, sometimes collaborating on pieces, or helping each other out on tough assignments.

One of those assignments had almost gotten you shot when you’d accidentally stumbled into a bar run by the mob and asked the bartender a wrong question. Wasn’t your fault, you’d just been asking for information. How the hell could you have known the Mob Enforcer was sitting at the end of the bar?

It was then that you’d been introduced to Eddie’s ‘other half’. He’d shoved you behind him with enough force that you’d fallen, landing on your ass on the floor. Had mutely stared as blackness rose from his skin, enveloping him, his form doubling in size. Long tongue lolled out from between wicked rows of fangs, pale eyes narrowing at the one that was pumping ineffective bullets into him.

Venom. Holy shit.

You’d seen photos of course. Read the articles. Seen the news. Venom. The supposed ‘Demon of San Francisco’.

You’d always taken that title with a grain of salt. You’d never read about him harming random people, only murderers, muggers, drug pushers.

But then again, you knew how society equated ‘different’ as ‘bad’.

So when a the bartender ducked under the bar and came back up with a shotgun, you hopped to your feet and darted a hand out to grasp the barrel of it, smirking as you applied force, the metal twisting and folding in your grasp as if you were crumpling a ball of paper.

Eddie hadn’t been the only one hiding a secret.

The bartender had done a double take, and you’d calmly shoved him in the chest, the push sending him flying. He hit the wall of bottles with a crash, cheap booze and bits of glass raining down on him as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

The lack of gunfire had you turning, suddenly nervous again when you saw that Venom had ripped the shooter apart and was now staring at you in what you thought was shock.

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” you’d muttered with a shrug, pausing to gulp down an abandoned shot of bourbon before turning and heading out the door.

It had been Eddie that had caught up to you afterwards as you’d been walking back to work, looking frazzled and shocked.

“What was that?!”

You’d arched an eyebrow at him cooly. “Which part? The part where I accidentally got us shot at or the part where I didn’t tell you I’m a mutant and I’m capable of throwing an SUV across a football field?”

He’d stared at you for a long moment before chuckling and falling into step next to you, shaking his head as he’d bunted his shoulder to yours.

The two of you had become close friends after that. You’d even gotten a proper introduction to Venom, discovering that the symbiote had a mind of it’s own and regularly got Eddie into trouble. It also explained why all the chocolate candy you kept hidden in your desk at work kept vanishing. Sneaky goo alien kept stealing them when you weren’t looking, the bastard.

Three months later found the two of you standing outside a stately house, Eddie grinning as he knocked on the door. You shuffled nervously. He’d insisted on you meeting ‘Anne’ his ex turned friend, who, as a lawyer, might have insight into a new article he was working on.

You’d tagged along, hesitantly. Eddie, you’d discovered, was oblivious as fuck. You’d developed feelings for him after weeks of sharing meals while pouring over research for various articles and editorials, but he either was clueless or just not interested.

So you’d shoved those feelings deep down into the pit of your stomach, telling yourself that even if he wasn’t romantically interested in you, at least you had him, and Venom, as friends. It was better than nothing, you told yourself. Better than not having them in your life at all.

But when the door opened, and Eddie had beamed at the pretty blond in the doorway, you’d felt like someone had kicked you in the stomach. It took everything you had to smile and reach out to shake Anne’s hand when Eddie introduced you, so very careful not to squeeze too hard.

Anne had ushered the two of you inside, and you’d gotten a second punch to the guts when Venom had materialized himself a little, his head appearing on a stalk stemming from Eddie’s back, the symbiote purring a greeting to the woman, who smiled back in return. The alien never really showed himself when you were around.

Jealously, hot and rancid, rose in you, and you clenched your hands into fists for a moment as you beat the feeling back, taking a deep breath to try to calm yourself. Years of controlling your strength had taught you how to find your center and push back anger and grief - both were dangerous. Both unbalanced you and made it harder to keep a lid on your abilities.

So you pasted a smile onto your face, accepted coffee, made small talk, and let Eddie gush and beam and joke with this woman that you wished was you. Ignored the symbiote when it sent a curious look your way, pale eyes narrowed, and you offered Venom a weak smile and a shrug as you sipped at your drink.

Afterwards, when Anne bid you and Eddie farewell, you lied to him and said you needed to run some errands, needing to get away, to get some distance so you could breathe without having the urge to scream. He’d smiled, giving you a too short hug, and you’d watched him walk away, feeling like something had ripped your heart out.

Chest feeling tight, you pulled out your phone as you stumbled home, quickly texting a friend that you trusted. You trusted her with everything, even the fact that you were a mutant. You’d long ago started to complain to her that Eddie was dense and not picking up on your signals, so you knew that your text of [Fuck my life] would be properly understood.

A moment passed before your phone chimed. [Still? Girl, just invite him over and get naked in front of him.]

A snort left you. [I’m not that brave.]

[You could snap him like a toothpick if he says anything except ‘wow’.]

You quirked a brow. Didn’t know if you were strong enough to fight Venom. And you didn’t want to find out. Not with his penchant for biting people’s head’s off. [Blood’s a bitch to get out of the carpet.]

[Seriously. Just tell him. If he’s too dense to pick up smoke signals, try a bonfire.]

[He likes someone else,] you texted, morosely, remembering the happy look on Eddie’s face when he’d seen Anne. Exes or not, you’d never seen him look that pleased to see anyone before. [She’s blond and smart and pretty and I’m just some freak and I feel like gum under a boot.]

[Sweetie, no! Look, talk to him. The worst that happens is that he says he’s not interested. At least you’ll know! Right?]

[No. The worst that’ll happen is that I’ll lose my best friend. It’ll be like my sister finding out I’m a mutant all over again. He’ll smile, nod, and then never interact with me ever again. I’ll see him at work and it’ll be awkward and horrible and….]

[And it’ll feel like having your heart ripped out.]

[Yeah.]

[Fuck.]

[Yeah.]

[Well, shit. Get drunk?]

You paused and turned your head, looking at the liquor store across the street. [Good idea.]

You shoved your apartment door open minutes later, using too much force and nearly ripping it off it’s hinges. Sighing, you shoved it closed, jamming it into the frame, then paused long enough to lock and slide the chain into place before going to set the bag you were carrying onto the kitchen counter. Pulled a glass out of the cupboard, and a bottle of Kracken Rum out of the bag. Then, kicking your boots off along the way, went to throw yourself down onto the couch.

“Move to a new city,” you muttered as you tossed your phone onto the coffee table before pouring yourself a shot, throwing it back with a cough. “Get a good job. Make new friends. Fuck you school counselor, fucking rat bastard.” Another shot of rum vanished, burning it’s way down your esophagus to settle, warm, in your stomach. “Didn’t say anything about emotional torture, did you? Nooo. Just paint a pretty picture and get the mutant freak out of the small town!”

Your right hand clenched too tight on the glass, and it shattered in your grip, the alcohol in it spilling to the floor amidst shards of glass.

Sighing, you guzzled rum straight from the bottle, then got to your feet and stomped over to the kitchen, retrieving a towel. Muttering, you went and cleaned up the mess you’d made, pausing when your phone chimed again.

You huffed a growl as you picked it up in your good hand, groaning, loudly, when you saw who was texting you.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, because, really, how much worse did your day have to get? Typed a response, even as you muttered more curses under your breath. [What’s up, Eddie?]

[Hey. Thought of something for the article. Mind if I come over and brainstorm with you?]

You looked at the state of your front door, the glass, the small puddles of rum on the floor, and grit your teeth to stop a scream. [Kinda not a good time.]

[You okay?]

“Fucking perfect,” you growled. [Fine. Just… a little drunk. Not really in a ‘brainstorming’ mode anymore.]

[Oh. Okay. See you at work?]

[Yup.] “Smilie,” you muttered darkly. “Add a smilie so he thinks you’re okay.” Dutifully added a ‘good night’ along with a little ‘:)’, then threw your phone onto the coffee table and grabbed your bottle of rum again, guzzling. “Fuck my life.”

Your turmoiled emotions managed to keep you conscious up until you got three quarters through the bottle. Then your body gave up the fight, and you passed out on the couch.

Morning greeted you with a headache, the feeling that you might have been chewing on the couch in your sleep. Groaning, you rolled onto your back, rubbing at your face, then screamed, trying to throw yourself off the couch and only succeeding in thudding to the floor when you saw Venom leaning over the back of the furniture, eyeing you worriedly.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you howled from the floor, clutching at your head afterwards when your voice rebounded inside your skull. “Don’t you use doors?!”

Venom had reared back a bit at the ferocity of your scream, but now, he actually looked amused. “WE KNOCKED, BUT YOU DIDN’T ANSWER.”

“Nnnugghh.” Groaning, you peeled yourself off the floor, staggering to your feet and heading for the kitchen. You needed coffee. A lot of it. Now.

Nearly put your arm through the counter when you stumbled, and you grumbled as you jabbed at the coffee maker’s controls, filling it with water before turning it on, the sound of burbling filling the small room.

Venom was looming in the small kitchen entryway, eyeing you worriedly. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“I’m hungover, so that would be a definite ‘no’,” you grumbled as you sidestepped around him and headed for the bathroom. “Just… just gimme a minute. Raid the fridge, siddown, whatever, just…. fuck off for half a second.”

You made it to the bathroom, and got the door closed. Stared at yourself in the mirror and blinked at the fucking mess that stared back at you. Your hair looked like a tumbleweed and you had lines from the pattern on the couch squished into your cheek.

Attractive.

Trying not to puke, you pee’d, washed your face, brushed your hair so it didn’t look like ‘Hair of Death’, then brushed your teeth to eliminate what was surely one hell of a bad case of morning breath.

That accomplished, you staggered across the hallway into your bedroom, and changed out of your outfit and into some clean underthings, fresh jeans and a clean tee.

Well, you didn’t feel human yet, but you at least looked the part.

Deciding that you couldn’t hide all day - no matter how much you wanted to just curl up in a whole and die - you shuffled out of your bedroom and headed back to the kitchen. The smell of coffee settled your stomach, and you sighed, tired, aching, as you retrieved a mug and poured yourself some liquid caffeine, then sipped at the too-hot drink.

Eddie had made an appearance, and you found him sitting on the couch, frowning down at something in his hands.

Your stomach bottomed out when you saw he was looking at your phone.

For the second time in less than a day, your hand clenched tight and shattered the thing you were holding. Scalding hot coffee washed over your skin and dripped onto the floor, Eddie sending a shocked look your way when you merely stood there and let it happen, trembling slightly.

He had the sense to look embarrassed. “I–”

“Get out.”

Eddie blinked at the angry rasp that left you. “But–”

“Get. The fuck. Out!” The last word came out in a shriek of rage, and you felt pieces of the broken mug crunch under your foot as you stormed forward, grabbing him by his hoodie and hauling him off the couch.

You were halfway across the apartment, fully intending to bodily throw him out the front door, when blackness moved under your hand. Eddie vanished under the symbiote as Venom took over. His form grew another foot, shoulders widening, muscles growing, and you grunted at the new weight, shifting your footing, shoulders tensing as you hefted a little more and shoved.

Venom flew backwards and slammed into the wall hard enough that he left a dent in the plaster, those pale eyes widening as you clenched your fists and got ready for a fight. Because you needed a fight. Something, anything, to get the feeling of betrayal out of your system.

Amazingly, a low, rumbling, chuckle left him. “THAT WAS HOT.”

The urge to fight fizzled out with a wash of disbelief. “What?”

Those fangs bared themselves in a wide grin. “YOU HEARD US.”

Okay. Now you wanted to scream. Gritting your teeth, you sunk your hands into your hair and turned to stomp into the living-room a bit before spinning back to glare at Venom, who blinked. “Just… What the fuck?! You can’t just come in here and read someone’s goddamn texts, that’s like, fucking invasion of privacy!”

“MORSEL…”

“Hush!” You pointed a finger at him. “Shush! Shut. Up.”

“NO.” He stalked forward, and you held your ground, glaring up at him as he moved into your personal space. “EDDIE WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU. ANNIE CALLED HIM, TOLD HIM HE WAS AN IDIOT. SAID YOU LIKED HIM AND THAT HE WAS BLIND.”

God. How transparent had you been that a complete stranger could tell that you were fucking pining like some old timey damsel. Fuck.

When you didn’t say anything, Venom leaned down, face inches from yours. “HE WORRIES. THINKS HE HAS TO PUSH PEOPLE AWAY BECAUSE OF US. IS AFRAID THAT WE’D HURT YOU.” He tiled his head, pale eyes narrowing a little as he smirked. “BUT YOU’RE NICE AND STRONG, AREN’T YOU?”

You grit your teeth hard enough that your jaw twinged. Had to force yourself to calm down before you cracked a tooth. “What’s your point?”

“OUR POINT, MORSEL, IS THIS.”

You gasped as he yanked you forward, one taloned hand gripping your shoulder as he crashed his mouth onto yours. His tongue slipped between your lips, invading and exploring your mouth, the low rumble that left him vibrating into you and making you shudder in reaction.

He literally kissed the breath out of you, and you were panting, dazed, when Venom finally pulled away. You sucked in a shuddering breath, and when you opened your eyes, it was Eddie’s face that you focused on, his steel blue eyes instantly locking onto yours.

“We’re sorry,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms, palms warming your skin as he curled his fingers around yours. “I’m sorry for… Fuck. Everything? Yeah. Everything. We… I thought– I don’t know what I thought. That you’d be afraid? Or… or something.”

You let your breath out in a sigh, all the remaining anger draining from you and leaving your hangover to take it’s place. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Sorry. Your phone chimed and… Yeah. Shouldn’t have done that. Your friend though, wants to know if you, ahem, ‘grew a pair and boned him yet’.”

The wicked glint in his eyes, and the feeling of the blush warming your face, made you want to vanish into the floor. “Goddamn it.”

Eddie chuckled. “We were wondering if we had competition.”

You stared at him for a moment, then groaned and closed your eyes. “I need coffee. Do you want coffee?”

He had the good graces not to outright laugh at how flustered you were. “Sure.”

“Okay. Good. Coffee.” Eddie followed you to the kitchen, and you did your best to squash the urge to drink the rest of the rum. Instead, you took out two mugs and filled each with coffee. “You want sugar or milk? I make this strong, so…”

“We’ll risk it,” he smiled, and you shrugged as you handed him his cup, leaning back against the counter as you drank from yours. Had to stifle a laugh when he took a sip and made a face, eyes watering.

A snicker left you. “I did warn you.”

“Jesus, this could melt tank armor!” Eddie moved to the fridge and pulled out the milk, adding a copious amount to his mug. “How can you drink this?”

“I like strong coffee. Wakes you up in the morning.”

“This would revive the dead! Where’s the sugar?”

You watched, amused, as he moved to the small bowl of sugar on the counter and started to spoon some into his drink. At the fifth spoonful, you rolled your eyes and snatched up a dish cloth, leaving him as you went to clean up the remains of your first cup of coffee.

The liquid had made a stain on the hardwood, and you carefully gathered up the bits of broken mug before wiping up the cold coffee off the floor. Set it on the coffee table when you were done, sighing as you sank down onto the couch and waited for Eddie.

He shuffled out of the kitchen moments later, sipping at his coffee again, and you wondered how much sugar he’d put into it. It looked a little syrupy.

Eddie sighed as he dropped down onto the couch next to you. “So… Did we crash and burn or…?”

You gave that some thought. “You crashed. Spectacularly. But, were revived on scene.”

A chuckle left him. “Does that mean you’ll let us take you out for breakfast and real coffee?”

“This is real coffee.”

“It really isn’t.”

”Hmpft.”

Eddie snipped at his drink a bit before grinning. “It was kinda hot, you picking us up like that,” he commented offhandedly, helpfully reaching out to slap you on the back when you choked, coffee filling your sinuses.

“You’re weird,” you rasped once you could breathe again.

“I’m bonded to an alien symbiote.‘Weird’ isn’t even on the map anymore,” Eddie smirked, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him. He took another sip of coffee, made a face, then gave up and set his mug on the coffee table. “Offer of breakfast still stands. We can, uh, figure some stuff out over pancakes or something. If… if you’re interested? I mean, we’re… Venom’s been pushing me to talk to you for weeks, but I was afraid…” He cut himself off with a huff and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Annie called me a moron and told me to just jump in. That you were waiting for me to make the first move. So… we’re here. Moving.”

You eyed him, and the black tendril that extended from his shoulder to caress your cheek. You reached up to touch it, smiling a little when it curled around your fingers and squeezed, cool and sinuous. “Breakfast, huh?”

He nodded, smiling warmly. “Our treat.”

“…you look at my phone again without permission and I’ll feed it to you.”

Venom’s face materialized on a stalk and grinned at you. “KINKY.”

#snarky is writing #filled prompt #eddie brock x reader #reader x eddie brock #reader x venom #venom x reader #venom #eddie bro

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mumpkins · 5 years ago

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Private OC Rating

Done by @cho-rates, I just decided to have the balls to make it public and answer questions! (as well as fix some things)

cho’s comments and questions will be in BOLD.

My answers and fixed places will be in ITALIC!

Name: Shotaro Kaneda

Hero/Villain Name (if applicable): N/A

Age: 24 ( An aged up verse, he’s a couple years older than 1-A. Though sometimes I will portray his teen years as well, I have more information on his adult verse. I do want to flesh out teen years at some point though lol )

Birthday: September 5 (a virgo eww)

Gender: Male

Orientation: Bi-sexual

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 133 lbs

Hair: ear-length, fixed but slightly unruly, black

Appearance: Athletic agile build, Asian descent, brown eyes, red tinted hands and feet, small red horns on his forehead, long spiked / devilish red tail

Body: Athletic agile build

Quirk: Steam – Kaneda can build up and blow a hot steam that can potentially burn (or even melt depending on the force) his opponents. (Ahaha, the quirk fits the body appearance. I bet this one is going to be a hot head or really sweet)

Weakness: Building up and releasing too much steam at once can cause overexertion to the point where he can and will collapse and not be able to move for a while. Also his fucking ego. (LMFAO, I guess we’re dealing with the former and not the latter!)

Personality: Kaneda becomes the main symbol of defiance, expressing anarchy behavior towards authority and absolutely does not accept blatant disrespect. Kaneda values loyalty and becomes vengeful when trust is broken. He is impulsive, hot-headed, egotistical, and maintains a tough exterior; however, he is brave, independent, and highly empathetic. As a leader, Kaneda will look out for the safety and well-being of his allies, and will throw himself in front of a bullet for them if need be. (This!! I like that you didn’t make him a straight jerk and that you gave him good traits as well!)

Do they work well with others?: You are either with him or against him. By default he will work well if not negotiate unless you have a badge stating your authority.

Family: Parents deceased; family is his gang of brothers, all misfits and loyal to the bone

Friends (other oc’s or in BNHA universe): OC’s; his bike gang

Enemies(other oc’s or in BNHA universe): literally by default does not trust the cops or heroes (LOL)

Romantic Interests: by happenstance, Izuku Midoriya (LOL pt.2)

What do they think about heroes?: Oh shit oh fuck uhhhh

A couple of things about heroes. He sees the rise of fame being motivation for pro-heroes lately. They seem real fake to him, and it runs along the lines of Stain’s idea of “false heroes”. But he also sees them as a bunch of buzz kills when he’s trying to ride out and do his own thing that happens to be illegal. (LOL this guy is so problematic in a very headass type of way and it’s really entertaining. He’s a really fun character to read about.)

What do they think about villains?: They’re somewhat easier to work with, but he does not associate himself with hardcore villains either. As much as he himself could easily be considered one, he considers himself more in a grey area. He won’t kill a hero – actually he hesitates to kill anyone – but he won’t turn on a villain either if only because any of them could either arrest him or kill him. (Ah, he’s smarter than he lets on. I wonder how much of this is empathy and how much of this is him saving his own ass,,)

In terms of villains, he’s very much along the lines of “snitches get stitches”. At this point it doesn’t matter what his views are with a villain or a rival gang, he’s not gonna call the cops or any heroes as that is a lower blow than trying to either run or solve the issue on his own. He would rather risk his dignity than call the authorities.

Is their first reaction to danger: flight or fright?

Depends on the danger. If he knows it’s an even match, he’ll throw fists. If he knows he has no chance, he’ll turn tail (heh) and run. (i’m actually laughing omg stop)

If they had to be stuck on an island with one BNHA character, who would it be and why?

don’t don’t ever give him the option (brO TELL ME)

Favorite holiday and why?

Halloween. As a child he always loved to dress up as his favorite hero. As an adult, he’s more attuned to the day before Halloween as “Mischief Day” and takes “tricks” to the extremes.

Do they have a certain way of dressing/ style?

His wardrobe is casual and lazy punk clothes. He does occasionally sport a bright red jacket with his gang’s logo on the back.

Pet peeves: Assuming his character for his looks (I mean you right but he hates it) (LMFAO I’m trying to give a serious review here and you hitting me with all this lolol)

Favorite food: shrimp tempura and rice

Favorite drink: Pepsi (ayyeee, pepsi > coke)

What is their favorite season/weather?: Summer

What is their sleep schedule like?: Whenever (mood)

Introvert, Extrovert or Ambivert?: Extrovert

Quickest way to upset them?: Pull his tail (I….I’m so tempted)

What type of student were they/are they?: Given that he only went to school so he didn’t have to do community service… he did the bare minimum, still got held back once (got mightily pissed off about it), and left as soon as he turned 18. Will also add that the school he went to was one step closer to juvie.

Superlative that fits them best (class clown, teachers pet, etc): Most Likely Will Be His Own Boss

A song you associate with them: Survival of the Fittest - Robert DeLong

What’s their diet like?: He will inhale anything in front of him, but he has a real fast metabolism

What’s the last thing they ate?: McDonald’s burger combo

Hobbies: riding his motorcycle and sometimes play video games

Guilty Pleasures: I mean. If you got the dokis for a hero and you’re a real anarchist……..

When and what was the last thing that made them cry?: laid in bed one night. like you do. thought about where his life was. wondered where it was going. you know just one of those fun nights. (this got too real too fast and i feel mildly attacked)

General Extras: In general, he is a real neutral guy that doesn’t play sides unless you’re on his specifically. He doesn’t take being talked down to and will even argue his side to keep himself above it all. Even raise fists. But he is impulsive as shit and does not always think his decision through. Definitely not book smart, but strongly street smart and highly confident in his actions. (I get that vibe from everything you’ve said, you summarized it really well and took the words out of my mouth!)

Do you plan on filling out a roleplay form(No pressure if you don’t want to do it, this is more for me so I can keep your forms together if you send in both): nah I’m just curious about this one

Creator Name (that’s you!): Mumzy

Blog name where I can contact you: mumpkins

Did you have fun doing this?! (pls just say yes so my feelings don’t get hurt): I REALLY DID and eventually there came a point where I was literally like “well shit he’s kind of a dumb bastard what else is there”

PLEASE JUST SEND THE ANSWERS DIRECTLY TO ME I DON’T NEED THIS POSTED 8’D

I’ll post it private and send you the link!

*deep inhales* BOI. Shotaro is such an unintentional meme?? Like big crackhead vibes from him like…he’s really just a lil misfit goin around and doing as he pleases,, so much angst in this one like??? (i hope you dont take any offence to this,, i just really like his character lol) he seems pretty factious to me LOL. I like his quirk, simple and easy and his weakness is plausible, no OP oc’s here! His personality really shined through and you portrayed him well. That little paragraph you wrote summarizing him was a really solid description and would be perfect for a character sheet. The only inconsistencies were, at the top you put his age as 17 but in the “what type of student were they” you mentioned him turning 18 but otherwise he is a really solid character! I’m 20 something so I can’t crush on anyone younger than 20 but he’s really… *deep breath* …moving on. I love his personality and the fact that he’s this punk but in reality he’s an impartial dude who is chill unless something offends him or opposes him but he is also very loyal and empathetic, two qualities that I love!

Idk if you wanted questions since this is a private rating but i’ll put some either way and u can choose to fill em out or nah,, i mainly do it to help develop character and its just fun to talk abt oc’s sooo,,

What job do you see him having in the future? He’s not really here no there so i’m interested!

After he drops out of high school, he flat out does not know what to do. As he is familiar with criminal work, he stays to what he knows with his bike gang... and incidentally gets picked up by mob members. He begins as an errand boy for one organized group, but never is he ever initiated as a member. After having been exposed by a variety of assignments from various villains, by the age of 20 he’s doing all kinds of illegal work. He becomes a man for hire in the undergrounds, helping with drug trafficking, enforcement, body guarding, petty thieving, etc. You name it, he’s probably done it.

But that’s only in the dark. To keep himself balanced, he’s also a bar back for a local bar in the sketchy side of town. An honest job when he meets people and can tell them what he does for work without putting off any red flags.

A couple of reasons why he does shady work is not due to enjoyment. Actually, he wishes he never got involved as everyday feels like he’s at risk of getting killed for angering the wrong person. He doesn’t plan ahead of his life only because he could step outside one morning and breathe his last breath. For one thing, his best friend who grew up with him and is part of his gang is in rehab at this point and Kaneda is the only person who he can turn to for help -- by this, Kaneda opts to pay those hospital bills with the quick and astounding amount of money he receives from criminal work. Another reason is plain and simple: once he has done work for one organized criminal group, once his name is spread around the underground as a reliable hire, there’s no way of suddenly dropping that life without risking it all.

Is there anything in particular he does to relax?? Tv, music, hobbies, etc,

The best way he can relax is riding his motorcycle in the late hours of the night. He loves the city, and will speed through until he finds open road where he will just continue to ride until he feels calm again.

If he’s especially frustrated and the steam has built up in his lungs, he will hold it in until he finds a safe spot (preferably home) to release it all and collapse for a while. Yes, his apartment would be a sauna if he doesn’t open his windows.

Sex also helps.

Is he a pessimist or optimist? He’s very unbiased it seems so I wonder what his personal mindset is,,

More of an optimist, but in a way where he prefers to mask sorrow and tension with humor and a lighter perspective. He can’t afford to not be confident, and he tries his damndest to pass that on given the circumstances. “This will work” he would say to an idea he briefly thought of, mostly trusting his gut and hoping that if he passes on the mindset and convinces others of his confidence, then yes in some way things will work out.

But I also say that he’s not very optimistic of his own future (sorry to bring this back). He lives for the moment, but given the life he lives, he does not trust it will be a long one.

So it’s hard to explain, but he’d more say, “nothing matters in the end; do whatever the hell you want now”.

#save #cho rates #bnha oc

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write-havoc · 6 years ago

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Of Sons and Daughters Ch. 1

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Dearest Dutch,

I pray this letter meets you well, though by the time you receive this, I will likely be gone. The doctor tells me I have but weeks to live.

I have spent near as much time cursing the day I met you as I have thanking the lucky stars you crossed my path. For if it weren’t for you, I never would have been blessed with my sweet girl Emmeline. But if it weren’t for the way you live your life, I could have raised her more proper and sent her to school. If it weren’t for the enemies you’ve made, I wouldn’t have been afraid to let her out of my sight and maybe she would have a husband of her own. A life of her own.

She resembled you so much in her youth, I was afraid a member of one of your competing gangs or even the police would notice and take her away from me. It caused me to keep her home more than I should have. Coddle her more than I should have. I’m afraid that has left her too naive for this world and I fear what may happen to her because of my actions. She ain’t simple by no means. No, she was blessed with your brain, but I fear I’ve kept her acting too young for her years. She should be having children of her own, but I’m afraid she’s more like one herself.

That is why I’m writing you. Just like we agreed, I never told her about you, but I think you may be the only one that can help her now. As much as I hate to put her close to you and your dealings, I’m so frightened that she will end up on the streets or in the hands of even worse men than you. Being used and taken advantage of. She is not taking my illness well as it is, so I fear what she may be like when I’m gone. I fear, through her grief, she will make a mistake and let the wrong people into her life, thinking they will help her, but they would surely only hurt her.

All I ask is that you check in on her and make sure she’s safe. Make sure she’s eating enough and taking care of herself. Make sure the people around her are good. I will leave it up to your discretion to tell her of her true parentage. Though I will remind you that Joseph Turner was the best father for Emmeline I could ever ask for, even though he knew she weren’t his. Emma has nothing but love for that man and his death is still a sore spot for her, though it’s years in the past.

Despite all the bad things I know you’ve done, I think you have a good streak in you, Dutch Van Der Linde. I know it were you that left boxes on our doorstep with bits of money all those times. And all those postcards with addresses to send mail to just in case I needed you, though I never used them but once when Joseph died and now, of course. I know you always cared about Emma in your own way. You cared enough to keep her away from your life.

She ain’t got nobody now, though. And that scares me more than her being with you.

Yours truly,

Alice Turner

“Shit,” Dutch mutters under his breath as he folds the paper up and delicately places it back in its envelope.

“Bad news, Dutch?” Arthur Morgan happened to walk by Dutch’s tent at that moment and noticed the leader’s sullen face.

Dutch looks up to his surrogate son, now standing in front of him, and scratches at the black stubble on his cheeks. “Of a sort,” he answers. “Why don’t you take a ride with me. We have something to discuss.”

Arthur nods and heads off to where his horse is hitched with all the others of the camp.

The Van Der Linde Gang wasn’t exactly well known in the area, but they weren’t entirely anonymous, either. They had set up camp outside a town called Blackwater in a clearing completely out of the way. This gave them the privacy they always enjoyed, while maintaining close enough proximity to the town to run their business, that being anything a little south of what’s lawful. A stagecoach robbery here, petty pickpocketing there, some holdups in between, whatever filled their coffers.

Both Arthur and Dutch mount their horses and set off with Dutch in the lead on his white Arabian named The Count.

“Where we headed?” Arthur calls out, spurring his own rose grey Andalusian called Sparrow to come up beside Dutch.

“Some place quiet,” he answers tersely.

After a few hours, they come upon a cliff overlooking the sparse heartlands. Both men dismount and Dutch walks over to the lone large oak tree sitting among lush grass and various wild flowers, leaning on it as he surveys the land below him.

Arthur walks toward the older man with some trepidation. “What’s goin’ on, Dutch?”

Dutch doesn’t turn back, but pulls a cigar from his pocket and lights it, taking a long drag. He lets the smoke swirl around him before finally answering. “I need you to do something for me, son.”

“Of course,” Arthur replies without thought, always loyal to the man that he had come to see as a father.

Dutch turns to face him. “What I’m about to tell you, no one else on this earth knows. Not even Hosea.”

Arthur nods, his anxiety building at what Dutch could possibly tell him. “You know I won’t tell no one.”

“That’s why I’m entrusting you with this.” He takes another drag on his cigar before continuing. “Twenty years ago- Well, twenty two,” he corrects, “we ran through this area for a time, me and Hosea. It was a couple years before you came to us.”

Arthur scratches at his chin and nods, waiting for him to continue.

“Off that way,” Dutch gestures off to the east, “There’s a place called Emerald Ranch. I happened across a farm girl named Alice. Beautiful woman with fiery red hair. She was nice enough to invite me into her bed on multiple occasions.”

Arthur scrunches up his face. “I don’t wanna hear this, Dutch.”

He continues without acknowledging Arthur’s distaste for the subject matter. “She fell pregnant.”

Arthur’s expression turns more serious at that.

“She had a little girl,” Dutch continues. “Emmeline.” He lets the news sink in as he takes a drag off his cigar.

Arthur is stunned for a moment before he shakes his head, as if that could make everything make sense. “You got a daughter?!”

Dutch nods and lets out a sigh. He needs to tell Arthur the whole story. “Alice... She was a nice girl, but she weren’t stupid. She knew what I was. Saw right through the bullshit I was spitting at her. But she still decided to lay with me anyway.” He lets out a chuckle at the memory. “She had a wild streak, that one. I saw her a few times over some months. The last one being the time she told me she was with child.” He pushes himself off of the tree and faces Arthur fully. “She had found a man. A good man named Joseph Turner. He was a farm hand that worked for her father. He knew she was in a delicate way, but it didn’t matter. He was to marry Alice and raise the baby as his own in a little farmhouse they found outside of Valentine. The three of us agreed not to tell the child about me. We agreed I wouldn’t come around.”

Arthur furrows his brows at all this information, but he keeps quiet, letting the man finish what he had to say.

“I made sure to leave Alice ways to get ahold of me in case something happened. About ten years ago, she wrote a letter saying Jospeh got thrown by a horse and succumbed to his injuries. After that, I would try to make it out this way every few months to leave them money in the night. Never said it were from me.”

Arthur nods. He had noticed the times Dutch would leave without saying exactly what he was doing, but never said anything.

Dutch throws his spent cigar to the ground and stomps it out. “Alice sent a letter saying she was on her deathbed. I’m sure she’s gone now as the letter was months old by the time I got it.” He shakes his head as he looks down. “She was a good woman.”

Arthur waits for Dutch to say more, but he seems lost in thought. “Are you headed out to Valentine to pay your respects?” he asks, not sure why Dutch is telling him all this.

The older man looks up to Arthur. “I need you to head out that way to look after the girl.”

“The girl? You mean your daughter ?”

“Yes.”

“Why me?”

“Because I trust you.”

“No. I mean, why not you ?”

Dutch shakes his head. “I’m needed at the camp.”

“I’m not?”

Dutch lays his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Of course you are, son. But, we’re in a good place right now. Everyone’s fed and clothed for the time being. I can tell everyone you’re off on an errand for me. But if I go missing for a while, people will talk.” He shakes his head. “The girl’s better off not knowing about me, anyway. It’ll only be temporary. A few weeks, maybe a month then you can come back home.”

“I ain’t no nursemaid, Dutch.”

“I don’t mean that kinda lookin’ after. She’s a young woman, but...” He lets out a sigh. “She’s all alone now. And her mama sheltered her, apparently. According to her letter, the girl’s an innocent. I just want to make sure she’s on her feet.”

Arthur turns away and takes his hat off to run his fingers through his hair, trying to make sense of everything. “Why doesn’t Hosea know about all this?”

“I was young and stupid,” he says with a voice tinged with shame. “Me and him were just starting out together and I knew he’d look down on me for leaving Alice and the child behind. You know he still would now if he knew.”

“Can’t the women go out and take care of the girl?”

Dutch walks over to Arthur and places both hands on his shoulders. “I’m asking you , son. I know you can look after her. And I know you can keep this quiet . It’s safer for the girl that way. The less people know, the better.”

Arthur gives a little shrug of concession. “Alright, Dutch. I’ll go visit the girl.”

“Thank you, son.” Dutch pats the younger man on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Dutch draws Arthur a map to the house and gives him money enough for food and supplies.

“I’ll send Charles out if I need to reach you,” Dutch calls out as Arthur mounts Sparrow.

“And I’ll head back once the girl is doing good on her own.”

Dutch nods and moves back to lean against the tree as Arthur heads toward the path. It’s not a long ride to the farmhouse, so Arthur takes it slow, delaying his arrival time.

He’s never been that good with women. Sure, he’s been a gentleman and he’s certainly laid with more than a few, but when it comes to emotional women, he’s at a loss. Now he’s tasked with taking care of a woman fifteen years his junior that has just lost her mother.

What if she’s hysterical? Or what if she kicks him out? He is a complete stranger, after all. Then again, what if this Alice woman wrote the letter in haste and got over her illness. He might ride up to the house and see two happy women going about their days.

God, he hopes that’s the case.

He finds the small farmhouse just fine, though there doesn’t seem to be anyone there.

“Hello?” he calls as he pushes the door open slightly. The house is lived in, but otherwise empty. He comes back out and walks around the building, seeing an open stable attached to the right side of the house. One beautiful female blood bay thoroughbred is hitched there.

He slowly holds his hand out to see if she’s skittish. To his surprise, she puts her nose right to his hand and sniffs it. “You’re a friendly one, eh, girl.” He chuckles and rubs the horse on its nose.

“Who are you?” a sweet voice asks from Arthur’s right.

He turns away from the horse to see who he assumes is Emmeline. She doesn’t much look like Dutch, except for the jet black hair. She’s slight, about a foot shorther than Arthur and thin. Her skin is fair, but her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are puffy, signaling that she had been crying. Her dress is rather plain, but a faded light blue color that’s not unpleasant to the eye.

As a matter of fact, Arthur finds every part of the woman standing before him pleasing to the eye.

“You alright, Miss?” He comes forward closer to her.

“I was just putting some flowers on my mother’s grave. She passed two weeks ago.” She looks down to try to hide how she swipes away a tear from her cheek.

Arthur sees it, though. “My condolences, Miss. My name is Arthur Morgan. Your mother sent a letter a while back to my boss Tacitus Kilgore and he sent me out here to check on you,” he fibs.

“Uncle Tacitus,” she chuckles slightly. “Never heard of such a man ‘til I saw his name on that envelope Mama had me send.”

“He’s real worried ‘bout ya.”

“That’s nice, I suppose.”

Arthur shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Do ya need anything, Miss Emmeline?”

She shakes her head.

“I’m to stay with you for some time to make sure you’re alright.”

“Oh. Uncle Tacitus wants that?”

Arthur nods. “Yes, Miss Emmeline. Just until you get back on your feet.”

Emmeline had never lived with anyone but her parents, but she had also never lived alone before her mother had died. She found that she doesn’t rather like the quiet of the house with just her in it.

“You can stay in mama’s room,” she replies. “I’ve washed all the linens, but they need put back on the bed.” She walks past Arthur to get to the front door.

Arthur is surprised she accepted all of that so easily. He’s a strange man and she’s allowing him into her home without question. “You get many visitors out here?” he asks and falls in step behind her, thinking that anyone could just talk her out of house and home. Among other things.

“No, sir. Can’t remember the last time anyone rode out this way.”

“You don’t have to call me sir.” He quickly walks around her to open the door for her.

She gives him a smile and walks past him into the house. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan.”

He tips his hat and follow her in. They walk into the kitchen area with a hearth on the back wall, counters to the left and a table with two chairs in the middle. Off to the right are two doors leading to the bedrooms.

“This will be yours.” She gestures to the left and they go in. She goes to a large cabinet and pulls out sheets and a blanket for the bed.

As she makes the bed, Arthur watches her. “You got crops here?”

“Out back,” she answers. “Not a lot. Mostly just enough for my mother and me. But she would go into town and sell the extra for money.”

“You need help with that? The crops.”

She stands up straight after smoothing the blanket out. “Not yet. But if you don’t mind, since you’re here to help, and all, would you run into town for some of those oat cakes? Miss Susie just loves them and I’ve been plum out for a week.”

“Susie that horse out there?”

“ Miss Susie,” she corrects, though not in an overly serious manner. “She is a lady , Mr. Morgan. And, yes, that is her in her stable.”

He chuckles at her. “Well, she’s a beauty. And I can get those oat cakes, but can I ask, why haven’t you gone into town to get them yourself?”

“Mama never let me go into town,” she answers quietly.

“Pardon me, but your mama ain’t here no more.”

She looks up at him for a moment. “That may be true, but it don’t make all those bad men she told me about any less dangerous.” She turns and starts to walk back into the kitchen.

“What bad men?” Arthur asks as he follows behind her.

“The bad men that live in towns. There’s criminals there, Mr. Morgan. A lot of them. They’d sooner slit your throat than say hello. I always worried so about my mama goin’ into town, but she said she knew how to handle them. And she always came back just fine.” She starts to look around in her cupboards, pulling out a few cans as she goes.

“I ain’t gonna lie, there are bad men here and there, but most of the time, people are alright.”

She turns around and gives him a look that seems like that’s the first time she had ever heard that. And true enough, it was. Her mother had always told her that the world was a much more dangerous place than it was to keep her from wanting to leave home.

“Maybe in some places you been, but not Valentine. Mama said it’s real bad there.”

“Ain’t that bad, if I’m bein’ honest,” he replies, not thinking of how the realization may affect the poor girl.

“Maybe not for a big strong man as yourself. People know to stay away from you,” she rationalizes. Surely her mother wouldn’t have lied.

Arthur finally sees what’s going on with her and drops the issue. “Course, Miss.” He nods one time.

She looks back to her cans. “Looks like I ain’t got much to make for supper. Mama always went to the butcher’s for the meat, and picked up some canned things from the store if our own stores were low. Which they are now. This is all I have left.” She gestures to the few cans on the counter. She had eaten through everything they had canned up, since the crops are not ready for harvest yet.

“I’ll go into Valentine and get some things.” He turns to walk to the door.

“Wait!” she calls out and opens a drawer in an end table by the door. She rummages around for the few coins she has in there. “I’ll give you money.”

He holds his hand up. “Ain’t no problem, Miss. I got money from Uncle Tacitus.”

She straightens up. “He sure is a generous man.”

Arthur doesn’t comment on that and tips his hat. He places his hand on the doorknob to open it.

“Wait!” she calls out again.

“Yes?” he turns back to her to see her approaching.

She gets up on her tippy toes and kisses his cheek.

The contact has a warmth spreading from where her soft lips touched all the way into his chest.

“What was that for?” he asks, a little taken aback by the action.

“Just bidding you farewell,” she answers easily. “I always kissed my mama on the cheek before she left.”

He nods once and heads out the door with his head swimming. The girl is certainly strange, but he’s thinking that maybe he can make this work.

#Arthur Morgan / Original Female Character #Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character #Arthur Morgan / OC #Arthur Morgan x OC #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption #Arthur Morgan #Of Sons and Daughters #writehavoc Of Sons and Daughters

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narnian-neverlander · 7 years ago

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Hot Stuff [AceXF!Reader] [Modern!AU One-Shot]

So apparently I've caught a flu and I've been feeling like shit for days and basically running on 4 hours of sleep and I have to get back to my apprenticeship on Monday and honestly I'm just so sick of being sick. Long story short, I needed some cute fluffy fire boy to cheer me up, so if anyone else isn't feeling well, I hope this helps ^^

Hot Stuff

Fic Summary: Being sick always sucks. But when you have a walking heater as a boyfriend to take care of you, it might not even be that bad.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None, maybe like two swear words if you wanna be nitpicky about it

She couldn't remember the last time she'd wanted to just curl up in bed this badly. Or maybe she just needed to kill someone to make her feel better, at this point, it was hard to tell.

She'd barely managed to drag herself out of bed this morning and she was pretty sure it was because she'd felt the fingertips of a beginning flu or cold starting to grasp at her. Granted, her boyfriend reenacting Sleeping Beauty with her as the mattress and himself as the impossible to wake damsel in distress probably hadn't helped, either. Think of the devil; her phone buzzed, indicating a message from said princess. She quickly took a look at her screen and didn't know if she should surpress an eyeroll at the realization that the idiot had changed his own name in her phone again, or a groan at what the message actually said.

Hot Stuff ;): Hey darling, the cover-up tattoo for this guy is gonna take longer than expected, so I can't make it to the store, you think you could pick up the order for tonight?

Shit.

She'd completely forgotten about his brothers coming over. She let her head hit the desk with a sigh. She loved those two like her own family, but she could picture better ways to spend her evening today - and definitely less exhausting ones, too. Nonetheless, she quickly typed a reply, telling him not to worry and that she'd take care of it.

A few hours later and she wished she hadn't. Her boss had dumped another workload on her, which had resulted in her leaving her workplace last and barely making it to the butchery in time, because of course those three dorks needed a special meat from a special store that had the most ridiculous business hours she'd ever seen. To top it all off, her decision to walk this morning to try and clear her head of the sickness induced foginess came back to bite her when it started to pour. And of course her ever helpful boyfriend hadn't bothered to look at his phone and maybe pick her up.

She'd never been so glad to just be able to close her apartment door behind her and be done with the day, despite how upset she still was. She ran a hand through her drenched (h/c) locks and glanced at the watch on the wall. Good. At least she had another two hours or so until the ASL Trio would tear through her place and especially her fridge again. Enough time to freshen up, throw in some cold medicine and chew Ace out for literally leaving her out in the rain, unintentional or not. Or at least, that's what she thought.

"Luffy, spit that out, it's not done yet!"

"Bwut it's twasty alrwaedy!!"

"Luffy, for fuck's sake!"

Oh you've gotta be kidding.

She carefully peaked her head around the corner and wanted to scream at the sight of Ace and Sabo trying to pry some unidentifiable piece of food out of their brother's teeth. At any other point she probably would've laughed or even helped them, but right now it only added to her steadily increasing headache. And to the list of reasons to yell at the tattooed boy before her.

She stepped into view and chucked her bags to the ground with a loud thud, the contents noisily spilling across the floor, causing three pairs of eyes to turn towards her.

"(y/n)? Woah, what happened?" Ace asked, letting go of Luffy, who fell off and behind the counter as a result, and walked towards her. She immediately pointed an accusing finger at him, stopping him in his tracks.

"You happen to look at your phone recently, darling?" she hissed, stressing the last word.

He gave her a confused look before pulling the device out of the backpocket of his jeans. His eyes widened when he saw the multitude of missed calls and messages.

"Oh shit, babe,I'm sorry. Luffy and Sabo came over earlier and I--"

"Yeah, so I've noticed. And apparently you truly forgot how a phone works, otherwise you might've thought about giving me call to tell me." she snapped.

He furrowed his brows at her outburst. This wasn't like her at all.

"What's the big deal? Not like this is the first time they came by unannounced."

"Oh yes this is a big deal!" she yelled, stomping her foot in frustration like a child, a move she quickly regretted when it blurred her vision. "You send me on a goddamn errand you could've very well done yourself instead of goofing around wasting time! Not to mention you didn't even possess the fucking courtesy to maybe even consider picking me up so I wouldn't get drenched to the bone! But hey, no problem, after all your brothers aren't supposed to be here for another couple of hours, so I've got more than enough time to - oh wait a minute!"

"Ok I get you're mad, but I wasn't goofing off! I told you that cover-up would take longer and it did, I barely made it home ten minutes ago and they were already here! What was I supposed to do, leave 'em out in the rain?!"

"You had no trouble doing that to me!"

"That was an accident! Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you tonight?!" he questioned angrily. Sure he felt bad about not picking her up, but this was no reason to blow up at him like this.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! But if you think I pose a problem, do accept my apologies, I'll leave you boys to it!" she shouted, giving a mock wave to the ravenett and blond who had taken shelter behind the counter before grabbing her keys off the floor and storming to the door. "I'll just be outside for another couple of hours, after all, a little bit more rain isn't going to kill me, right?!"

With that, the door slammed shut behind her.

"What... was that?" Sabo asked carefully, coming to stand beside Ace.

"I dunno! She's never that easily upset!" he complained.

But when he thought about it for a moment longer, there actually was one situation when she got irritated quite quickly: When she was sick.

"Oh crap..." he muttered under his breath, guilt already starting to weigh down on him. He turned to his brothers. "I think I know what's wrong with her. Sorry guys, but we're gonna have to reschedule this."

The blond smiled understandingly and gave his brother a thumbs up, while Luffy started to pout.

"Naw, but we wanted to play video games later! Why don't you invite (y/n) to join, I'm sure that and some food will make her feel better!" he suggested happily. Ace sweatdropped at his little brother's optimism.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that, Luffy. But we'll do it some other time; I'll go after her." he said, grabbing his own keys and an umbrella.

"You sure you don't need any help searching?" Sabo asked in a concerned tone.

"Nah, if she really is sick, too many people are just gonna make her worse. You two just head home - and take the meat as an apology!" he shouted the last part, already out of the apartment and just hearing his younger brother's cries of joy before the elevator doors shut behind him.

Luckily, he knew her well enough by now to figure out that there were very few places she could and would have gone in such a short time. And just as he thought, he found her curled up on a bench under a tree in a nearby park, trying to at least partially shield herself from the rain. He jogged over to her and held the umbrella over her head. At the sudden loss of rain, she lifted her gaze, her eyes red and puffy, and a few stray tears still rolling down her cheeks. When she saw who it was, she immediately buried her face in her pulled up knees again.

"I'm sorry..." she murmured, barely audible.

He sat down and pulled her into a one-armed hug.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were sick?"

She sniffed and lifted her head to look at him again.

"I'm not."

He gave her the most exasperated Are you kidding me? look she'd ever seen.

"Ok maybe just a little. But not really, not yet anyways, and I didn't wanna ruin your night. But then everything kept piling up: the sickness, my boss being an ass, the rain... And I took it out on you. I'm sorry, you didn't deserve that."

"Well, I kinda did. But enough of all that, let's get you home and into bed, alright?" he said with a smile and stood up, offering her a hand.

She smiled back and grabbed his outstreched hand, only to wobble and almost fall right after she'd lifted herself to her feet. Whatever sickness she'd managed to catch, it sure was hitting her now.

"Woah, ok, there is no way I'm letting you walk." he stated with a sense of finality and placed the umbrella on the bench next to them before turning around and gesturing for her to get onto his back for a piggyback ride.

Even when healthy she never refused one of those, so she grabbed the discarded umbrella and hopped onto his back. Once he started the short walk back home, she rested her head against his shoulder blade and closed her eyes.

"You're warm..." she hummed happily. Her hazy mind registered what she'd said just in time. "If you make a pun about you being hot, I swear I'm locking you out of the apartment tonight."

He laughed in response and before they'd even reached their destination she was fast asleep.

When she woke up again, she was back in her own bed, tangled in the covers. She opened her blurry eyes to try and get them to adjust to the dim lighting in the room. She could make out the door, creaked open slightly to let in the light of the hallway. The next thing she noticed were the glaring red numbers of the alarm clock, telling her it was the middle of the night. Her eyes wandered over the several other things placed on the nightstand: tissues, various medicines and a thermos which she assumed to be full of tea. She slowly sat up, her head screaming at her to lay back down, and realized that she was wearing new, dry clothes, as opposed to the drenched ones she fell asleep in. That's when her ears picked up the sound of running water just down the hall. Was Ace still awake?

She decided to investigate and swung her legs off the bed, meaning to get up, but her feet had barely touched the ground when her vision was obscured by black spots and she let herself fall back down to the mattress. Ok, so standing up too fast was a no-go. Got it. She'd just heaved herself back into a sitting position and was about to try again when she heard the door creak open. Ace tiptoed inside, but when he saw she was already awake he straightened up and gave her his signature lopsided grin.

"Hey, you're up!" he stated in a quiet, yet happy voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Gross." she said through a stuffed nose. "But mostly everything's just sore; my back, my throat and my head feels like it's about to explode."

"Thought so." he said and made his way over to her. "I was just gonna wake you up, anyways, though. Come on."

Until now she hadn't realized that he was only clad in a pair of black boxers and socks. Of course.

He picked her up bridal style and walked out of the room.

"Where are we going?" she asked with a yawn and snuggled herself against his bare chest.

He didn't say anything at first, but simply kicked open the already ajar door to the bathroom. Her eyes went wide at the sight in front of her: a steamy bubble bath and candles placed around the room.

"How long was I out again...?" she asked, an awestruck expression on her face.

He snorted and pressed a kiss to her temple before carefully setting her down to sit at the edge of the tub and reaching across to switch off the faucet.

"Can you get out of your clothes yourself or are you gonna fall backwards and drown?" he asked with a small, mocking smirk.

"You're just looking for an excuse to get into my pants even though I'm sick." she quipped back, followed by a short cough.

"I've already done that once today, you know." he reminded her, gesturing at the new clothes she was still wearing, his smirk widening.

She gave him a half-hearted glare and a small punch to the shoulder, a smile spreading across her features.

"Perv..." she mumbled, but started to slip out of her clothes anyway and was submerged in the water not a minute later.

She sighed in happiness and relaxation, already feeling the pain in her head and back starting to dissipate, and let herself slip further into the tub, until only her nose remained barely above the water level.

"I actually used your favorite scented candles, but you probably can't tell, huh?" he asked jokingly and gently pinched her nose between his fore- and middlefinger for a moment before she swatted at his hand with her own.

She sniffed and scrunched up her face and he actually had the audacity to laugh.

"You're ridiculously cute."

"Well, I am glad my misery amuses you." she complained nasally.

"You're always cute. But would your misery maybe be lessened by some food? I'll make something."

She raised a sceptical brow at him. "You will make something? As in cook? Without setting the kitchen on fire?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before answering: "Nope, make as in order something. Don't worry, I won't add a visit from the fire department to your list of worries - not tonight, anyways."

She genuinely laughed at that, not even regretting it when it worsened the scratch in her throat. Ace always managed to brighten up her day, no matter what.

He smiled and tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear and placed his warm hand lovingly on her cheek. "So, what do you want, princess?"

Any other time, she probably would've grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him into a passionate kiss and said that she wanted him. But right now...

"Soup. I don't think I can get or keep anything else down."

"Gotcha." he answered and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, before getting up and snatching his phone off the counter by the sink. He turned to her again once he'd reached the door. "Will you be fine without me for a bit or are you gonna fall asleep and I'll have to fish you out before you drown?"

She smirked mischieviously.

"I think you're confusing me with yourself, Mr. Narcolepsy."

"Oh come on, that was one time!"

Not much later, they were both sipping soup out of the delivered containers, herself still in the tub while Ace was sitting on one of the rugs, his back propped up against a cabinet next to her.

"Thanks, Ace. You really didn't have to do that, you know. Especially after how I acted earlier."

"Oh come on, everybody gets cranky when they've had a bad day, even more so when they're sick. I do, too."

"Still... Remind me to say sorry to Luffy and Sabo as well. They kinda got caught in the crossfire and I really don't want 'em to think that I don't like having them over."

"Nah, don't worry, they know you better than that. Sabo even offered to help look for you and Luffy... well, Luffy tried to help in his own way. And I already gave them the meat you brought as an apology, so I think you'll be fine."

"It's a good thing all problems with you three seem to be solvable with meat." she laughed and stretched, making her back pop.

"It's getting kinda cold in here..." she stated, looking at Ace out of the corner of her eye, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Well then, maybe it's about time for you to get out of there." he answered, placing his cup aside and standing up to help her.

"Or maybe..." she started, reaching her arms out to him. "It's about time you got in here."

He contemplated it for a moment, then shook his head.

"I dunno, I actually really like the view from up here." he said with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She splashed him with water in return.

"I'm cold and I don't wanna get out yet, so would you just...?" she pleaded, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

The smile slipped off his face and he groaned, running a hand trough his black hair.

"You know I can't say no to you when you look at me like that..." he complained and started to tug off his socks.

"That's the point!" she sung happily, cursing herself when it made her cough, and scooted forward to make room for him.

"You know" he began while sitting down behind her and wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "I'm really hoping our kids won't get that look, otherwise, I'll be totally screwed."

The silence that followed stretched on longer than what was comfortable.

"Our... Our what?"

"Nothing! I didn't say anything at all! You must be in some sort of fever delirium!" he sputtered out way too quickly and when she craned her neck to look at him, his cheeks were bright red under his freckles and his gaze was on anything but her.

A small smile spread across her face and she settled back against his warm, muscular chest and closed her (e/c) eyes.

"Whatever you say, freckles. Speaking of those, I hope they get yours~"

Knowing that she'd heard him perfectly, he desperately tried to shift the focus to something else: "So, uhm... you've got absolutely no concerns about me getting sick as well?"

She snorted.

"You never get sick, matchstick. It's probably that abnormally, inhumanly high body temperature of yours. Any kind of germs or bacteria gets burned before it could even make you sneeze."

"Well, duh. Even bacteria knows to stay away from hot stuff like me."

She could practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

"Dear lord, I walked straight into that one..."

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