#to invite you into the Big Hole I dug under the slide | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

Photo

(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) 罗夏 SR 「波波雪糕」 Rorschach SR [Bobo Ice Cream] Painting Story Translation: Azure Island

*For All Time Master-list / Rorschach’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Card is Free Event-Obtainable. *T/N: Ice cream hotpot is just… fondue, of sorts.

“The taste of summer is delicious.”

His figure never failed to attract my attention. His overwhelming confidence when surfing is similar to that of Poseidon, the one who directs the waves of the sea.

✥ Chapter 1: 造浪池 Wave Pool

MC: AHHHHHH!!

Rorschach: Don't worry, (Y/n). I'm holding onto you.

That’s what he said, but the ferocious artificial waves that came at me made my control over my legs falter.

Rorschach: You don’t need to firmly ground yourself on it all that hard. Try to feel the rhythm of the wave.

MC: I feel nothing! Absolutely nothing!

I faintly heard the sound of his low chuckle and my face instantly heated up.

It's all his fault!

It was only because Rorschach had mentioned that he was good at surfing that the curiosity even started taking root in me.

And that was precisely why I’d invited him to be my coach for today and ended up trying out the cruise’s popular surfing simulator.

But now, looking at the situation I was in, I couldn't help but regret having bugged Rorschach to become my personal surfing coach for the day when I'd clearly overestimated my athletic prowess.

MC: I’ve overestimated my motor skills...

My low mutterings under my breath were completely blocked out by the rolling of the artificial waves.

Before I had the time to react, Rorschach had reached out to extend a gentle hold around my waist as he swiftly plucked me out of the surfing simulator.

Rorschach: Looks like you still need a personal demonstration from your dear coach.

He walked down to retrieve the surfboard, tied his feet to the ropes and slid smoothly onto the waves with practised ease.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Look, (Y/n). The waves are a little big, but don't fret. You are now riding it…

Due to my having dragged him out of his room in a hurry, Rorschach was dressed in clothes that were at risk of getting utterly ruined by water at any given moment.

However, he didn’t seem to mind it at all and continued sharing with me the technique of how he rode the waves along with how it felt to ride one.

Although he looked no different from his usual self now, I could sense that he'd broken free of the chains of gravity, now soaring freely.

His pose was as carefree as that of an unshackled seagull. Faint droplets of water splashed all about. His gallant confidence was way brighter than even the sun itself.

All eyes were now on him, firm and unwavering. Even the professional coach was giving occasional nods from where he stood not too far away.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Ack—!

MC: Watch out!

I'd somehow unwittingly grabbed his hand the moment I heard his yelp.

Although I knew that doing so wouldn't do anything to help stabilize him, I still did it anyway. Do first, think later, as it goes.

Rorschach: Ahem. Pardon me, my tongue slipped.

MC: RORSCHACH!

I couldn't help but bristle in anger, seemingly having thought that he had been in danger of flipping over. However, I never asked why he still didn't let go of my hand.

The warmth from his palm was similar to a reassuring promise, telling me not to fret any longer.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Through Rorschach's patient coaching and my unremitting endeavours, I finally managed to strike and maintain my balance on the surfboard for a few minutes with him holding onto me as support.

MC: And this is JUST a surfing simulator…

MC: I suppose you can say that I've now experienced a smidge of the true terror that is the sea.

Rorschach: Mother nature's no weakling, that's for sure, but people will always find a way to go up against her when the need arises.

Rorschach: What do you think? Was today's experience satisfactory in your book?

I vigorously nodded.

MC: Of course I'm satisfied with it! But I think it's better to actually head out to the beach and watch you ride the waves rather than cooping you up here as my coach.

Rorschach: ...Why does that feel like you've just given me a negative review?

MC: Huh? Why would I?

Blame you and your flamboyant popularity.

I silently groused.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Chapter 2: 冰激凌火锅 Ice cream Hotpot

Just then, a familiar figure not too far away caught my attention.

MC: Hey, Rorschach? Look, over there. Isn't that Feng Junhao?

Rorschach: The little rascal can’t keep to himself, can he?

A small water gun attached to his waist, looking left and right, he looked like a little officer, here to inspect things.

Being distracted, he didn’t notice both of us as we approached him. He bumped into Rorschach’s leg with a resounding smack.

Feng Junhao: Huh. It's you guys again.

Rorschach: You don't sound too happy

Feng Junhao: Hmph.

He avoided the question but fixated his gaze on me.

Feng Junhao: (Y/n), why do you like hanging out with this guy so much?

My face inexplicably flushed a deep shade of red

Rorschach: You don’t understand, do you? My artistic flair will naturally attract other artists to me.

Feng Junhao didn’t refute Rorschach; an unusual occurrence.

Feng Junhao: Hey, Rorschach…

We exchanged a dubious glance with each other.

Feng Junhao: ……

Feng Junhao: Nevermind.

Before we could even reply to him, he ran away.

MC: Rorschach, I think we should follow him and see what he’s up to.

Rorschach: Agreed.

We tailed him from a distance, watching as he walked into a fine dining establishment before coming out with a glum look on his face.

Rorschach shook his head, walking up to him.

Rorschach: Okay, little devil. What are you up to this time?

Feng Junhao seemed rather unfazed by our sudden appearance.

Feng Junhao: … The ice cream hotpot I want to eat is only sold here.

Rorschach barked out in laughter.

Rorschach: This establishment’s members-only. Let’s see, how about you and (Y/n) go take a seat and I’ll buy one and bring it over to you guys?

Feng Junhao: You’re not making fun of me? You’re buying it for me??

Rorschach slightly bent down, ruffling his hair.

Rorschach: It’s rare to see you being so honest. Consider it a reward.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The ice cream hotpot, a dazzling array of vibrant colours and fresh ingredients exuding cold air all around, was placed on the table.

Just looking at it alone was enough to make people feel a little cooler under the scorching heat of summer.

Feng Junhao’s eyes shone bright, seemingly satisfied beyond measure at having his wish fulfilled. He had a brief exchange with Rorschach before heartily digging into the ice cream before him.

Rorschach: Is it tasty?

Feng Junhao: Can the ice cream that yours truly favours not taste good!?

Rorschach: My turn to dig in then.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach reached out and unceremoniously dug a big hole into the sweet treat.

Feng Junhao: Hey, hey, hey! Isn’t the whole hotpot supposed to be mine!?

Rorschach: Hm? When did I ever say that?

Rorschach: I was the one who bought it, and I was also the one who brought it here.

Rorschach: I’ll let your ungratefulness slide, but why are you so adamant against sharing?

Feng Junhao: E-Even if that’s so… too much ice cream does no wonders to your teeth and stomach, so let me shoulder this burden alone.

Rorschach: No way. As a gentleman, I do not advocate kid bullying actions.

Feng Junhao: Who’s. The. Kid. Here!

Rorschach: Plus, (Y/n) and I have been out in the sun for so long, so we need a little dessert to replenish our energy.

Rorschach: And since you’ve already helped us taste-test it with such enthusiasm, I’m now sure that we can eat it without a worry!

Feng Junhao: Can’t you just go buy another?

Feng Junhao: (Y/n) likes chopped peanut snow cones, not ice cream hotpots. Right?

Feng Junhao winked at me, making me nod in response, albeit reluctantly.

Rorschach: I see you always acting so manly, but you choose to “threaten” a girl now?

Rorschach: Heh, looks like I should let you have a taste of how vicious society is out there.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Rorschach: Here, (Y/n). Open up.

I subconsciously did as he instructed and a strawberry, carved into the shape of a rose and topped with some ice cream, was swiftly delivered into my mouth.

Feng Junhao: AH!? But that’s the nicest strawberry I left for last!

As the two of them bickered on, I smiled, my eyes closing to form crescent moons of happiness.

Yup, the taste of summer truly is delicious.

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #罗夏 #Luo Xia #Rorschach #諏訪部順一 #Suwabe Junichi

64 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Gift Giving.

Commissioned by the lovely @strawberry-cake-and-earlgrey.

Word Count: 3.0k

Pairing: Yandere!Sugawara/Reader/Yandere!Oikawa

Synopsis: Your boyfriends rarely agree on anything. Oikawa’s always been the jealous type, and while Sugawara isn’t as competitive, he never tries to hide his preference for one partner over the other. But, they can put their petty squabbles aside every so often, especially if it means taking on their favorite burden - proving how much they both love you.

TW: Graphic Violence, Blood, Lacerations, Knife-Based Violence, Non-Consensual Touching, Toxic Relationships, Mentions of Stalking, Implied Emotional Abuse, and Delusional Mindsets.

Sometimes, you wondered why Oikawa ever agreed to share.

He’d always struck you as the possessive type, the kind of guy who was too petty to let you split your attention between him and anything else, let alone another living, breathing person. Even if he still found a way to monopolize your time, dragging you away from your clubs and convincing your friends you had a good reason to isolate yourself so severely, he still had to deal with Sugawara. He could meet you at Karasuno’s gates every day, but he couldn’t go to class with you. He could brag about you to his team, insist on bringing you to every one of his games, but he’d always have to check with Sugawara, he'd always have to get permission, first. He could invite himself into your personal space, wait until you’re alone and helpless and vulnerable before he pinned you down and dug his teeth in, but he’d have to know Sugawara would already be there, smiling and laughing and smothering you more thoroughly than Oikawa would ever be able to. It had to eat away at him. It had to, at least a little. At least more than he let on.

It shined through, sometimes, if you looked closely enough. In the way he kept an arm around your waist whenever the two of you were together, or how he always found an excuse to remind you that he was the preferable option, the better option, even if he failed to denounce Sugawara’s love so blatantly. You could see it now, too, with his nails biting into your shoulder as he pulled you against his side, a tense grin pulling at the corners of his lips whenever you glanced in his direction. You hadn’t been surprised when he turned up on the gym’s doorstep, a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder and his timing purposefully engineered to avoid the rest of the team, but that didn’t mean you were happy about his sudden appearance. Not when you knew him and Sugawara so well.

You’d known something was wrong from the moment Sugawara caught your wrist and went on about how nice it would be if you stayed to watch him practice, from the second he volunteered to lock up and let everyone else silently assume you wouldn’t walk home without your responsible, hard-working boyfriend at your side. He was planning something. You knew he was planning something, but there was nothing you could do that wouldn’t attract attention, that wouldn’t frame you as the temperamental partner who couldn’t be asked to wait without throwing a temper tantrum. Especially now that Oikawa was here, the gentle guiding hand, the nudge towards a peaceful solution, the calm voice that’d coo and hush and offer agreeable explanations until he and Sugawara were deemed innocent and you relegated to the role of a bratty, ill-tempered child who should be more grateful of their ceaseless efforts. It amazed you, how willing he was to drop his poorly-masked hostility as soon as he and Sugawara were pointed towards a common enemy. It used to amaze you.

Now, it just made you feel sick.

By the time you reached the boy’s locker room, the lights flickering and the door creaking on its hinges as he pushed it open, there was a firm knot in the back of your throat, a blend of guilt and anxiety that left you biting the inside of your cheek as you stepped into the sterile space, freshly cleaned and just big enough to make you feel small, in comparison. Oikawa let you go, locking the door behind him, but you didn’t try to run. You didn’t have anywhere to go, anywhere to hide, anyone who’d believe you or any safe-haven to run Oikawa turned his back. It wasn’t like you would’ve gotten very far, even if you did.

Sugawara was already sitting in front of you, straddling the wooden bench in the center of the room and smiling, his expression so careless, you could almost believe it wasn’t malicious.

Almost.

“What’s going on?” You asked, the question followed by a small, forced laugh. It was a weak attempt, but you tried to stay light-hearted, hoping they’d be kind enough to return the favor. “If I forgot about a date or something, you could’ve just told me. I don’t need an intervention.”

“You’re close, angel.” Oikawa opened his mouth, but Sugawara was faster, tapping the bench in front of him as he spoke. You moved to comply willingly, but Oikawa still felt the need to push you down to Sugawara’s height as soon as you were close enough, keeping a hand on your shoulder as you positioned yourself to face the more mild-mannered threat. Oikawa didn’t seem to mind, though. He didn’t waste time, slotting himself against your back, stringing his arms around your waist despite your attempts to shift into the comfortable space left between you and Sugawara. All it took was a change in his posture to make you go still, accompanied by a quick peck to the side of your neck. It was more of a warning than a reward, but you had to expect that, with Oikawa.

“I don’t blame you, honestly. It took you so long to come around, I don’t even know if we can count the first few weeks of our relationship as…” There was a light chuckle, a glance towards the floor, and you noticed he was toying with something in his right hand. If he felt a need to show it off, you couldn’t tell. “As a relationship, I guess. I almost felt like a stalker, back then.”

“He was a stalker,” Oikawa corrected. “Stealing stuff from your bag, leaving all those gushy notes, following you home…” There was a sigh from Oikawa, too dramatic to be taken seriously, and Sugawara groaned in return. “Don’t worry, though, I was way more polite. Whenever I followed you home, I made sure you didn’t notice. I know how touchy you get about your privacy, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have to be told. Not after that. Not as Sugawara barely hesitated before reaching towards the collar of your uniform, nimble fingers beginning to undo the buttons with all the impatience he’d managed to hold back, earlier. “Our anniversary.”

There was a harsh tug on the hem of your sleeve from Oikawa, a cheery smile from Sugawara. Wrinkled, white fabric pooled around your waist, and abruptly, you realized just how cold the gym could be, despite the two pairs of eyes burning holes into your skin. “And I was going to spoil the surprise,” Sugawara lamented. “I wanted to wait until we were somewhere a little more scenic, but you know how restless Tooru can be, don’t you? He thought you’d catch on, if we waited any longer.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t against taking you home,” Oikawa added, almost absent-mindedly. “But, this is more private. I didn’t want anyone interrupting us while we give you your present.”

You stiffened, at that, fighting the temptation to push Sugawara away as he wrapped an arm around your waist over Oikawa’s, pulling you closer until you were crushed against his chest. Grudgingly, Oikawa let you go, but not without a disappointed huff. “I-I really don’t--” You tried to speak, but your voice was shaking, trembling despite your best attempts to keep it even, to stay composed. “I mean, I didn’t get you anything, so a gift really isn’t--”

There was a small, almost inaudible click, the scratch of metal on metal. You felt something pierce your skin, just above the curve of your shoulder blade, and a second later, it started to burn.

It was a shallow cut, the blade thin enough to make the cut as painless as possible, but it was still a blade, it was still a cut, and it still hurt. You jerked back reflexively, but that only helped Sugawara carve the first line, stark and solid and agonizing as he dragged his knife through your flesh, only made worse by the way he sliced at the wound, barely bothering to draw back before forcing it under your skin again, never pausing for more than a moment. You whimpered, trying to wrench yourself out of Sugawara’s hold, but he only brought his unoccupied hand up, tangling his fingers in your hair and encouraging you to lean into him, to ball his shirt in your hands and try to ignore the searing pain in your back, the thick, hot blood dripping down your back, undoubtably staining the uniform they’d been kind enough to hastily shove out of the way.

There was a slight tap to Sugawara’s wrist, and after one more jagged line, he pulled away just enough for Oikawa to swipe two fingers over the open wound. You cringed, shrinking into Sugawara, but Oikawa didn’t seem to notice, he didn’t seem to care. Not enough to stifle the sound of his fingers sliding past his lips, at least, or to swallow the throaty moan he let out as he tasted your blood, sending a cold spike of fear down your spine. Sugawara remained unaffected, only letting out a quiet chuckle before continuing his work. “You’re so gross.”

“And you’re messy,” Oikawa retorted, drawing back, taking up your hips, instead. “I would’ve done both, if I knew you’d be so bad at this.”

It was a stupid thing to linger on. You were being flayed, you were being tortured, but some stubborn, shallow part of your mind refused to move beyond the idea that the scar might be ugly, that Sugawara’s hack job might not fade into something abstract and meaningless in a few weeks. If either of your partners caught your futile attempts to glance over your shoulder, neither felt the need to comfort you. There was a small hush from Sugawara as you whimpered, a tightened hold on your hips from Oikawa as you writhed, but somehow, their touching acts of concern did little to soothe your worries.

“It’s not like I had a chance to practice,” Sugawara muttered, his focus now renewed. There was a swirl, a series of jagged lines, and you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your cracked sobbing. You hadn’t realized you were crying before you heard yourself, before you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks. It made sense, but you still tried to will yourself to stop. Tried and failed, obviously. “And look, you keep embarrassing them. How am I supposed to work if you keep making the poor thing squirm?”

“Is that true, cutie?” You didn’t answer, clenching your eyes shut as Sugawara twirled the tip of his knife in a tight, slow circle, but Oikawa didn’t seem to mind. This time, when he leaned into you, kissing the top of your head, he didn’t pull away, even after Sugawara finished and your breathing steadied to a constant, wobbling pattern. “This is just for us. ‘s just for Koshi and I to enjoy, and even if his present is…” There was a deliberate pause, a kick to Oikawa’s calf. “Even if his is unique, you’re still gonna be our pretty little angel. As long as our gifts do their jobs, you’re always gonna be our angel, too.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as Oikawa held out his hand, Sugawara only hesitating for a moment before dropping a small, blood strained pocket-knife into his palm. You tried to stand, tried to get away, but Oikawa only had to snake an arm around your waist to keep you in place, pressing your body flush against his chest. “We only need a few more minutes,” Sugawara promised, his fixed smile sweet enough to make you think it might’ve been genuine. To make you think he actually might’ve cared, if you’d been brave enough to tell him to stop. “Bear with us, alright? Oikawa’s good at this kind of thing, it won’t take long.”

If nothing else, Oikawa worked quickly. Sugawara tried to be delicate, trading brief brutality for drawn-out precision, but Oikawa didn’t seem to follow the same statagy. He chose somewhere noticeable, somewhere sensitive, the dip of your collarbone, where you could see the hilt of his knife moving along the edge of your vision. Whereas Sugawara’s burnt, like a branding-iron being forced under your skin, whatever Oikawa was doing only resulted in a numb pressure, an awareness that something was splitting apart and you desperately, desperately wished it wasn’t. You tried to glance down, tried to see what he was doing, but Sugawara didn’t seem to care for that idea. Without hesitation, he caught your chin, tilting your head back and slotting his lips against yours. You might’ve been thankful for it, too, if he hadn’t taken his turn first.

The kiss was gentle, just as tender and considerate and synthetic as you’d come to expect from him. He wanted to distract you, clearly, to take your mind off of Oikawa’s knife and the thin incisions, but if anything, the softness of it only made the sensation more vivid, more unignorable. It only made everything hurt more, but you might’ve been giving him too much credit. By the time Sugawara’s touch began to wonder, his fingers dipping down to trace over the marks he’d so carefully engraved in your skin, you were tempted to say the distraction was more for his sake than yours.

You never leaned into it, you couldn’t bring yourself to. It was all you could do to let out a scratchy, pained shreik as Oikawa finished, ending his carving with a long, winding dash that ran to the center of your chest, one that sent a fresh acidic wash across your skin every time you took a deep breath. You almost glanced down when Sugawara drew back, almost spoiled the surprise, but Oikawa was quick to press the flat of his blade against the bottom of your chin, forcing you to keep your head up as he pressed his mouth against yours, the kiss half as long as Sugawa’s but twice as forceful, as if he felt the need to get back every second he might lost.

By the time it was over, you were gasping, the adrenaline fading and a new wave of tears building up in the corners of your eyes. Thankfully, your boyfriends allowed you a small moment of reprieve, but it was a fleeting sense of tranquility. Before you could calm down, before you could do so much as start to recover, Oikawa was already pushing you away, trusting you to steady yourself as he fished his phone out of his pocket. You stumbled, nearly falling forward, but Sugawara caught you, chuckling as you dug your nails into his sleeves. The sound was so calm, so cheery, you could almost bring yourself to ignore the shudder of Oikawa’s camera, the satisfied scoff he allowed himself as he looked over his work. You were confused, for a second, almost offended, but it didn’t take you long to remember the reason for his sudden distance.

Oikawa wanted to show off your gift.

Sugawara must’ve arrived at a similar conclusion. “Maybe we should wait,” He suggested with a noncommittal shrug. “It might be a little too much, today. We could wash off the excess, wait for it to scar… it’s not like I won’t be able to make sure (Y/n) doesn’t peek, in the meantime.”

But, Oikawa was already leaning forward, stringing his arms over your shoulders as he held his phone in front of you, already open to the picture he’d just taken. You didn’t mean to look. You didn’t want to look, but once you caught a glimpse, once you got a hint at the full image, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. It took you longer than it should’ve to recognize the sloppy scrawl, the lopsided text that’d been gouged into your back. You could still feel it, if you tried to. It wasn’t unbearable, but every cut seemed to ignite with a new fire as you looked over the uneven, jagged shapes. Letters, you realized, then a name. Koushi.

Koushi.

You felt like you were in a trance, like some unseen force was compelling you to lift your hand and drag your fingertips across the wound on your collarbone, one indented symbol at a time despite the fresh row of needles you pushed into your flesh at every point of feather-light contact. Neither of them made the effort to take another picture, but Oikawa cupped his hand over yours, keeping your hand on your chest, on the name that’d be etched into your skin for the next few months, if you were lucky. For the rest of your life, if you weren’t.

Koushi and Tooru. Sugawara and Oikawa.

Your loving, caring, devoted boyfriends. Your partners who couldn’t bear to see your attention stray.

The blood loss might’ve been a mercy. At least your mind was too clouded-over to really take in what this meant.

“It’s pretty, right?” It was Oikawa’s voice, but you could hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears, over the all-consuming, all-devouring dread that was beginning to swallow you whole. “We’ll be spending a lot of time together from now on, just to make sure it heals. We wouldn’t want you doing anything to ruin our gift so soon, would we?”

It was almost a relief when Sugawara spoke, urging you on with a whispered ‘tell him how much you like it’, his expression sympathetic but his eyes bright. He was remorseful, but he didn’t regret hurting you. He didn’t agree with Oikawa, but he genuinely thought he loved you, that he’d done something you might be grateful for. That was more than you could say for Oikawa. Possessive, jealous Oikawa. Petty, sadistic Oikawa.

Oikawa, who’d let another man carve his name into your skin just to punish you for catching his eye in the first place. Who’d sit back and watch you bleed, just because he couldn’t be the only person who got to say when you deserved to.

Your tongue felt heavy, when you opened your mouth. Your voice came out unsteady, your tone impassive, but you knew neither of them would care. Sugawara wouldn’t look any further than the words themselves, he wouldn’t want to, and Oikawa…

Oikawa just liked to watch you suffer.

“It’s beautiful.”

448 notes · View notes

brandywine-tomatoes · 4 years ago

Text

A War without a Winning Side - Pt. 1

Prompt was from a while ago, I think @icedcoffee101 helped create the inspo for this.

Masterlist

TW: sad/depressing thoughts, questioning existence for a hot second, Ahsoka just wanting to take a peaceful nap, Rex needing a fucking break.

Word count: 1571

Prompt/Inso: basically 'bicker fest 2021 with maul, ahsoka, and rex when they're forced to work together'

QUICK NOTE: this is just part 1! I will continue this at some point and there will be loads of bickering at some point, I promise.

The Tatooine suns could probably cook a person alive if they stood out there too long, and Rex just might become a scrambled egg if he had to wait beside the Hutt palace entrance any longer. He wanted so desperately to take off his helmet and drop-kick it into the desert, but disguises had to be kept and suspicions had to remain low.

When his commander finally walked out with a thick scarf covering most of her face, the suns were dipping below the horizon and a humid breeze set in for the night.

Ahsoka walked towards him, signalling for him to start ahead of her. They walked in silence to the ship, not entirely trusting of the Hutts not to send someone after them for the Imperial credits their lives were worth. The sand crunching beneath their boots and the faint sounds of a party behind them were all that filled the silence.

It was incredibly humid, even as the twin suns disappeared and with a slight breeze in place, Rex couldn’t wait to be back in sub-zero space among the stars.

Ahsoka typed in the key code to open the hatch and the two practically ran up the ladder into the ship to turn on the cooling system. They closed the hatch and soon enough, they were flying across the sky and were moving through hyperspace to their next destination.

They found themselves enjoying the silence and white noise of the engine, Ahsoka deep in thought while fiddling with her fingerless gloves and Rex trying to re-wire the hyperspace fuel gauge.

“So are they’re not sending us into Imperial space like we thought they would?” Rex finally asked.

“No, they’re sending us to...” Ahsoka pulled a slip of crumpled paper from a leather pouch and smoothed it out. “Dandoran. Jaba doesn’t trust the comm channels right now and he needs messengers. Apparently that job with the Pykes bought us goodwill,” she spoke grimly.

“We’re soldiers of the Republic and we have goodwill with crime syndicates,” Rex sighed.

“It’s only temporary. There aren’t many ways to make credits in Hutt space.”

“Then we leave, easy as that.”

Ahsoka leaned back in the pilot's chair, her exhausted eyes looking out over the streaks of stars parting for their ship. “You know we can’t risk it. We’ve made it 15 rotations, we can make it 15 more.”

“Whatever you say, commander.”

Ahsoka winced. “I’m not your commander, we’re not soldiers anymore.”

Rex blinked. He hadn’t had time to think about his service to the Republic, how it was no longer needed. He wasn’t really needed. His only purpose was to serve the Republic, serve his superiors in a war he was created to fight in. And he even failed at that. He didn’t have a purpose anymore, he wasn’t useful. Why was he even trying to survive-

“Don’t go down that path, Rex,” Ahsoka said, her words weighted. Her eyes closed and her face relaxed, the light from the tunnel refracting off her tired expression.

“How did you-” He stopped himself. “The Force... thing.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t need to use the force to know what’s going through your head.”

Rex dragged a hand down his face. Of course she’d know. Both of their lives were forged for a war that would never have a winning side.

“Whatever you say, Ahsoka.”

They stayed in their seats for most of the journey to Dandoran, though they periodically tried to sleep in the small bunk cots tucked away in a storage closet. But the smell of blaster fire and the weight of the hundreds they tried to save on that Star Cruiser kept the adrenalin running and their cheeks wet with tears.

Ahsoka’s knees were up to her chin with a datapad keeping her occupied while Rex was reattaching his shoulder plates when the ship came out of hyperspace, gliding towards the vibrant green and blue planet.

“Thank the force it’s not a desert planet,” Rex commented, reaching over the co-pilot's yoke to press a series of buttons and switches to prepare the ship for landing.

Ahsoka smiled. “Anakin would say the same thing...”

The atmosphere plummeted once again at the mention of their fallen brother. Whatever smirk or smile there was disappeared.

The ship flew above the tall, green canopy of dense trees, the small and scattered lakes making it difficult to find the landing pad.

“You’d think they’d chop a couple of these damn trees down,” Rex grumbled, finally seeing the grey pavement and directing Ahsoka to it.

“The more cover, the more crimes you can get away with I guess,” she mused.

Once they triple-checked the ship was in order and Rex adorned his helmet, they climbed the ladder out of the top of the ship and were greeted by four raised blasters from various beings, most likely Marlo Hutt’s personal security.

Ahsoka and Rex climbed down the ladder slowly and raised their hands in surrender when they faced the blasters.

“What business?” The blue-toned twi’lekk sneered with a heavy huttese accent, the blaster aimed at Ahsoka perfectly still.

“Jabba sent us, we’re his new messengers,” she calmly replied.

“The republic deserters?” He asked, amused. Rex fought back the urge to pummel him. “We’ve heard a lot about you two. Right this way, Marlo hates waiting.”

Rex and Ahsoka shared a look before following the twi’lekk across the overgrown pavement and throw the sliding steel door of a short and wide sandstone building, the rest of Marlo’s security following after them with their blasters at the ready.

They walked through a small and dark hall before the twi’lekk stopped at the entrance to a large open space, a group of singers under an archway to the left were softly singing and a small crowd of different beings filled the other side of the room, not so much paying attention to the entertainment but more so the large Hutt smoking a huge cigar, slithering from one end to the other to have a chat with all the guests.

“Wait here,” the twi’lekk sneered at the two behind him.

The guests parted to let him pass and promptly started whispering to the people around them after seeing a clone trooper in full armour under a large poncho and a togruta who looked like she’d seen too much. Marlo and the twi’lekk whispered discretely, the large slug occasionally puffing out a cloud of smoke and viciously coughing.

The Hutt held up a large hand to his security guard, silencing him, and slithered to the doorway where Rex and Ahsoka had leant against, the heat cooking the foul smells in the small room, making it near unbearable for both of them.

“Jaba’s getting desperate then,” his deep voice heavily accented in huttese. Ahsoka clasped her hands behind her back, trying to silence the want to wave a hand in front of her nose.

“He says he’s being cautious, the Empire is-” She started.

“I know why, togruta. Come forward, give me the message,” he gestured to her to come forward. The tip of a blaster dug into her back as she was pushed forward by someone behind her. She stumbled down the half step and regained her stance quickly. She hesitantly walked closer to the foul-smelling Hutt and swallowed thickly, trying to repress a cough.

Rex had rested his arm on the blaster under his poncho, though he doubted he would survive if he used it. His friend currently speaking in a low voice with Marlo nodding from time to time surely wouldn’t either.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, the tension in the room rising every second. Whispers, the occasional short laugh, and the visibly confused singers humming to a beat were all that filled the sandy room.

Sunlight spread through the small holes in the walls, probably resulted from past quarrels, and a soft, salty breeze blew through every once in a while, giving everyone present a few seconds of breathable air. It was miraculous the guests didn’t leave from pure boredom, but Rex guessed being invited to a crime boss's party meant you left when they said so.

Ahsoka stepped back and bowed to Marlo at last, turning back to Rex with a look of relief and her hands still clasped behind her back. He pushed himself off the wall and turned to leave, the singers seemed to re-group and started singing lively tunes again.

“Wait!”

The room seemed to stop altogether this time. Rex and Ahsoka readied themselves for a fight.

“Yes?” Ahsoka sliced the silence.

“Jaba requested a dathomirians presence at his palace, I’m sure you can provide transport.”

“We have a very small ship-”

“Nonsense! My guards say it’s big enough for at least 3,” he waved them off. “Jaba will pay extra.”

“Who’s the cargo?” Rex asked.

“The clone speaks! You will certainly know him, he’s killed many of your kind.”

Rex’s heart rate spiked. He was in trouble, he shouldn’t have come, he should’ve stayed on the ship.

“And I’d gladly kill many more.”

The familiar dark voice silenced any doubts and ignited a hatred in the clone.

He walked towards Marlo from the back corner of the room, flipping off the hood that concealed his tattooed face.

He chuckled at the sight of Ahsoka’s paled face.

“You don’t have the benefit of gravity anymore, padawan.”

A/N: hello all you lovely lovely people!! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long yes i did for this fic, I've mentioned it a couple times in other A/Ns on fics. This took literal weeks to write, I had so much trouble trying to write such a small part of this soon-to-be series, but I'm glad the first part is done and now I can get to the bickering >:)

ANYWAYS, go drink some water, have a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much bestie, I'm so proud of you for getting this far <3 !!

16 notes · View notes

thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

Text

No Words -interlude iv-

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Type: Interlude [Flashback]

Genre: Idol, Poly, Interracial, Tall Female, Smut, Angst, Fluff [if you squint]

Warning: Smut. Holy Water Req. Possessive Tae. Bossy Tae. OC gets pretzel action. Growling [ Did I say possessive?]. Handjob, sorta.

A/N - One more flashback, after this, then back to the present. Is this considered pining? I feel like I can’t emotion - ha! Thank you for enjoying this mess, as usual.

Words: 2049

The whites of her eyes were visible as they widened. Taehyung’s head tilted as he pushed into her, his hand wrapped around her waist to tug her forward. The motion caused a gasp; that small part between her lips was an invitation he couldn’t ignore.

The rough surface of his tongue brushed against hers - and it was stupid. It was absurd that moan that slipped out of her. It was so crazy the way he pulled her leg up against his waist. It was absolute insanity as sudden desperation grew between the tangle of their lips. It was madness as his fingers slid under her hoodie. It drove her crazy the way his nails raked against her skin.

It was positively out of the question when his fingers toyed with the waistband of her sweats. Her eyes rolled open as he kissed along her jaw. His fingers flexed against her skin. His lips suctioned to that thin skin behind her ear, causing her body to rock into his.

Wait, when did they get to her bedroom?

“You’re beautiful,” He growled along her skin. Their lips tangled again as buttons, jackets, and hoodie went flying into various directions. His shirt hung open as he crushed her body to his. He hummed as his fingers sank into that wealth of soft curls - and tugged. That sound that came from her made his blood boil. Her body arched backward as if she tried to escape. All it did was give him more skin to explore. He scraped his teeth along her collarbone to the top of a breast, threatening to spill from its confines.

His long fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. Damn, he had a big mouth!? She grunts as it seemed he was able to take in twice as much surface than she’d ever experienced. Another few minutes of mindless kissing, her bra was gone, and she was sprawled on her bed. He pulled the scrunchie from her hair, staring down at the goosebumps prickling on the chocolate of her skin. His chest heaved as he finally discarded his shirt, a thumb flicking at the button of jeans that were too tight for his liking.

Their pupils mirrored dark and lust-blown. She looked like she was thinking too hard. He reached down to snag her by the hips. Her ass hung off the end of the bed as he let his lips slide against her calf. Before she could think any harder? Her sweatpants went flying, and they both had a look of shock - because she decided not to put any undies back on.

So he was met with the glistening slick sticking to her thighs.

Shit! Shit! This was getting heavy, this was too intense. Again, as if he caught her delving in that logical brain? He pulled her hips up against the rigid outline testing the hold of his zipper. Her eyes rolled again as he thrust that clothed erection against her. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” His voice dropped lower, and she swore she gushed. He let her settle on the end of the bed, his fingers sliding against the outline in his jeans.

He licked his fingers, dropping to his knees, her legs tossed over his shoulders. Braced on her elbows, she watched with bated breath as his lips moved from the side of her knee. He lapped at the sticky residue on her thighs, both of them. Breathing across her glistening sex with each pass. Her chest heaved ragged breaths as she waited for him to end her torment.

Long fingers dug into the meat of her thighs as he lifted that molten gaze to her own. He placed a chaste kiss on that inner corner of her leg. The one so close to her sex, he could probably see her clenching. “You’re beautiful.” He inhaled that slightly sweet essence of…coconut? The more heat she radiated, the more the smell seemed to permeate his olfactory.

The first tentative flick of his tongue made her thighs tremble. She was seeping arousal by the time he went in for a full lick. “Ohmygo-V!” She gasped, falling on the bed, fingers knotting into her blanket. He lifted her ass while feasting on her. He growled as he wrapped his lips around her clit. His tongue running flat and extended from the opening to the underside of that sensitive nub. She dug her feet into his shoulders, half trying to escape and half trying to push her hips into his mouth.

“So good,” He rumbled against her. Taehyung’s fingers were white with the force of trying to hold her still. She kept trying to run, and he chased her. His lips pursed in a perfect kiss around her clit, she moaned his name. No, she whined that other name.

“Say my name..” Incoherent sounds as he circled that throbbing nub with his tongue. A finger teased the entrance, and he felt her clench down on it. He licked his lips, swirling his finger. “Come on, you can do it.”

Her face was twisted in desire as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She had her hands on her breasts as ragged breaths shook her. “T-Taehyung! Tae, please…” He moaned as two long fingers filled that empty space. Her body invited him..to stay. Snapping down on his fingers as he reached in, twisted to flick that mushy spot in the depths of her body.

He pistoned those fingers to a symphony of muffled moans and squelching noises. She tried to be quiet, pulling the pillow over her face. He could hear her losing her sanity. Taehyung’s gaze grew dark as he yanked the pillow from her face. “We’re going to play a game, Noona. It’s called Be Quiet.” She had enough resolve left to give him an incredulous look as he stood. She saw the angry red, shiny tip of his cock over the top of his jeans.

He pushed a knee between her legs scooting her up the bed surface. “I’ll kill you.” She growled as he lifted her by her hip, and he kicked furiously out of his jeans. This was really happening? He leaned against her leg, straddling the other. They both registered complete and total nudity. The echo of their ragged breathing ate the ambient noise around them.

Taehyung tilted his head, that arrogant tilt, that had him brushing his tongue across his bottom lip. “Not before I kill you first.” He pistoned his fingers, causing her to gasp for every molecule of air she could. He leaned into her until her knee hit her shoulder. Their eyes locked, their lips followed as she fisted her hands through his hair.

He growled into her mouth as her teeth set into his top lip. “Tae, s-stop. You…ha-have to…oh my fuck, s-t-stop. Gonna..come, fuck..” Her voice was a hoarse plea against his mouth.

“Give it to me. It’s mine. I want it.” He growled as he kept taping that spongy area with his thumb circling her clit. “Do it.” The sound was like holding your hand against a faucet as you turned it on. It was like a sputter as she felt the pressure build in her gut.

“N-no, Tae! W-wait, you don’t under-fuckme-stand. God, I…I can’t hold iiittt…” She keened softly.

“Did you hear what I said? Give me what’s mine!” There was a ripple against his fingers, he could feel her trembling from the inside out. He leaned down near her ear. Utilizing the depth of his voice, he pitched down to a purr vibrating bass. “Come for me.” Her eyes rolled into her head, her fingers dug into his shoulders. His free hand wrapped around her throat just enough pressure to cause a momentary cease in oxygen.

And she exploded.

Her nostrils flared a fight for air as she pulsed, pulled, and pushed his fingers with orgasmic force. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she came in a spray against his abdomen. Taehyung looked at the liquid dripping down his skin. She whimpered as her body finally relaxed with a thump against the bed. The tears flowed from the side of her eyes, he could see the faintest crimson flush under skin. He licked his fingers as her breathing regulated.

His fingers dug into her hips as he stroked himself, using her juices as a lubricant. Her eyes felt like marbles rolling around in her skull. Clutching the sheets for dear life, she tried to escape his hold. “Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere.” He flipped her flat on her back, dragging the throbbing veiny length of his cock against her folds.

Sensitive, she bucked against the intrusion. “Look at me, Noona.” Her eyes were wide as she got a good look at him. He looked ready to burst, those long fingers pushed her legs together. He slid between that tight space created by her thighs; a look of pure bliss painted his features. He kept her legs together, his hands grasping at her breasts. He fucked that space, sliding between her folds against her clit. She clenched, watching him, her hands moved down to create a tighter hole. The head of his cock pushed between her thumb and pointer finger. “You’re beautiful.” He panted against her calf.

“Don’t let anyone tell you other-w-wise, god, fucking…” His teeth set into her leg. “…I couldn’t..can’t stop thinking about you.” He gasped as his heart stuttered. They both knew that this was way out of line. They both knew that this could change things drastically.

They both didn’t care.

“God, I want you all to myself. A-ah, f-fuck, fuck, tighter, tighter…” He growled with each thrust. She squeezed him as he pushed through her fingers.

“T-tae, I’m gonna cum again.” She could feel the thundering pulsation in her stomach. “Oh, my, god…Taehyung, I’m g-gonna..” Immediately she reached for the blanket as her body bucked against the slide of his dick between her folds. She could feel the rippling sensation as her pussy clenched, seeking something as her legs trembled against his ribs.

“M-me t-too, fuck, fuck,” Taehyung sounded like he was in respiratory failure the way he gulped the air. His fingers dug bruising possession into her hips. “Give it to me. Come for me..” Taehyung had enough, and he slipped inside of her.

One long, deep, shuddering stroke, and he bottomed out. He sank into her full to the hilt, and he saw stars. There was that liquid squelch as she came in a rush all around him. Her body grabbing and molding to the throbbing bit of meat inside of her.

“Yesss, yes, that’s it. That’s. What. I. Fucking. Want.” He fucked her through that bliss, tumbling her over a second edge. He leaned down, trapping those rapturous sounds into his mouth. He swallowed them, locked them away to keep forever.

She said his name, and he suddenly heard white noise. She spoke his name like a prayer to god’s long dead. His thrusts were focused as she chanted his name. Spoke it like it would deliver absolution for her sins or her battered soul.

She pulled him down and spoke against his ear, moaning, “Give it to me. It’s mine.”

“I’m …gonna…can I? Please? Can I?” The tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the pull in his testicles.

She fisted her hands in his hair. “I want it. With me, Tae, gonna …again, with me..” He spread her legs, and she wrapped them around his waist. Heels digging into his ass to push him deeper. They rocked entangled limbs and lips.

The desperation mellowed to something else, slower, sweeter? Soothing. As if on cue, in unison, their eyes rolled shut as they stilled. The faintest tremor rippling their flesh. They cursed together as the orgasm snatched both their sanity away.

Both biting their lips to keep the jubilant cry of release at bay. He could feel her coating and gripping him. She could hear the animalistic grunts as his hips went shallow and the strong spurt of his cum inside of her. Their bodies were tense for minutes before they relaxed.

He felt right on top of her - he knew it.

Oh no.

And now?

So did she.

#smutcentralnet #bangtanarmynet #taehyung smut #bts smut #v smut #taehyung x female #tae is bossy #keep the holy water handy #namjesus didn't ask for this #taehyung imagine #bts imagines

73 notes · View notes

moonlight-ghoulette · 5 years ago

Note

How about drunk Rhett and Link getting handsy at a house party when no one is looking. 😘

“Baby c’mon, cut it out,” Rhett whispered, slapping Link’s hand away from his inner thigh for the third time, almost spilling his drink into his own lap in the process. “Not while everybody’s still here.”

They invited a modest sized group of friends over for a pre-holiday get together, and while the main activities were over, a smaller group stayed after for drinks and some catching up. Link already had trouble keeping his hands to himself all night, but as more liquor seeped into his bloodstream and as the party goers slowly dissipated, he only got bolder.

“But I want you so bad,” Link whined quietly, his southern drawl heavy, sweet and whiskey-scented and so close to Rhett’s ear. The return of his accent was a clear indicator that Link was nearing the point of too much. “Nobody’s lookin’ over here anyway.”

Link was right. Their attendees were all engrossed in their own conversations, loose and inebriated and paying the pair no mind, even though they were practically on top of one another on the couch. Rhett’s attention was snapped back to the moment when he felt a warm tongue trail up his neck to his ear, his drunken nerves sending the sensation straight to his cock. He let out a quiet moan, his eyes slipping closed.

“See, you want it too,” Link purred, his hand snaking back to Rhett’s thigh, this time with no resistance. His breath was warm against Rhett’s ear as he took his earlobe in between his teeth, the tiniest whimper escaping his throat as he sucked softly. Rhett, against his better judgement but now slave to his other brain, couldn’t help but slip his hand up Link’s leg and nestle it in the dip between his crotch and thigh. Link pushed his hips forward, searching for a nice, big hand to cup around his achingly hard cock, but found no such thing.

Link doubled his efforts, lavishing Rhett’s neck with wet, sloppy kisses, the back of the couch making quick work of unstyling his hair as he buried his face to access every bit of skin he could. Rhett moaned softly at the attention and squeezed Link’s thigh, his knuckles just barely rubbing the tight bulge in Link’s jeans.

“Shouldn’t be doin’ this out here.” Rhett warned, but with no weight to his tone. Link simply smiled into the soft skin on Rhett’s neck, knowing he had Rhett wrapped around his finger now.

“Then les’ go to the bedroom real quick.” Link punctuated his request with a slow grind of his hips, desperately trying to get Rhett’s hand to do something while its there. “No one will notice we’re missin’ for a couple minutes.”

Rhett scanned the room once more, his gaze landing back on Link’s pleading eyes.

“Fine, but you better be quiet.”

***

The moment Rhett pulled their bedroom door shut, Link was already halfway undressed, much to Rhett’s amusement.

“Shut up. Been wantin’ you all night, I’m just excited.” Link giggled out, clumsily stepping out of his jeans and socks. Rhett shortly followed suit, removing each item of clothing and snatching the lube off their nightstand before diving in towards Link, softly pushing him down onto the bed, this time lavishing him for a moment with nibbles and kisses all over his jaw, neck and chest. Link took the bottle of lube from under Rhett’s hand, squeezed a pool of it into his own and reached between their bodies, wrapping his slick fingers around Rhett’s cock. Rhett moaned and dropped his head, resting his forehead on Link’s shoulder.

“Can’t wait. Need you to fuck me now,” Link’s voice was breathy and low as he stroked Rhett, coating every inch of him with the slick liquid. Rhett, also not too keen on waiting longer than he had to, replaced Link’s hand with his own as he positioned himself lower, lining himself up with Link’s entrance. With a slow push, Rhett slowly slid the head of his cock into Link, drawing a sharp moan out of the man below him. Rhett stilled his hips immediately.

“Shhh, you want everyone to hear what I’m doin’ to you in here?”

Link’s eyes widened, his expression desperate, a soft whimper escaping him without even meaning to, while Rhett’s expression went dark in response to the sudden shift in Link’s demeanor.

“Hold on. You do, don’t you?” Rhett said, slowly sliding his cock into Link’s tight hole. “You want everyone out there to hear you getting fucked?”

“Nnnh, Rhett, please,” Link begged, his hands moving to Rhett’s hips to pull him closer, burying his cock just a little deeper. The simple question lit something within Link that was easily visible to Rhett; It was the same expression he’d get when they found a new position that drove him wild or he found a fun new kink. A look of ‘yes, holy shit, please!’

He allowed Link to take the reigns only for a moment before he pulled back, snapping his hips to drive himself into Link once more. Link cried out, but Rhett immediately silenced him by covering his mouth with his hand. Rhett was all for feeding into Link’s newfound interest, but not at the expense of their good friends outside their bedroom door.

“You want em’ all to know how good you are at takin’ my cock?” Rhett continued in a growl, snapping his hips in a fast rhythm, knowing time was against them. Link moaned and mumbled against Rhett’s hand, his eyes narrowing in pleasure and desperation, his fingers digging into Rhett’s skin.

“God, if only they could hear how good you sound for me. But unfortunately for them, I’m not gonna let that happen. You’re mine Link, aren’t you? I’m the only one who’s ever gonna hear how you sound when you're gettin' fucked, yeah?”

Link nodded, letting high-pitched moans out through his nose as he wrapped his legs tight around Rhett, his breath speeding up into a shallow pant as he got closer and closer.

"Gotta get back, baby. C'mon, come for me, yeah, just like that, good boy," Rhett praised as he felt Link tighten in all around him, his eyes screwing shut as he dug his fingers into Rhett's hips hard enough to bruise.

"Rrrmmf!" Link cried out as best he could under Rhett's hand as he came, his release pooling over his chest and belly as Rhett pounded into him a few more times, spilling himself into Link with a long groan.

"Better?" Rhett asked after a moment, slightly out of breath as he slowly pulled himself out. Link gave a lazy smile and nodded, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on Rhett's lips in thanks.

The pair took a moment to wipe themselves clean with a few hand towels grabbed from their hamper and eventually stood by side in the mirror, redressing and fixing themselves up to look at least halfway presentable. They could just blame their flushed cheeks and starry eyes on the liquor. With a cheeky grin from Link and a quick smack on the ass in return from Rhett, the couple made their way back into the dwindling party.

°°°°°°°°

Hope this what roughly what you were looking for! :)

#rhink #rhink fic #tw alcohol use #smut #I'd do a read more but we all know how that goes on mobile

52 notes · View notes

darknytemare · 5 years ago

Text

No Words -interlude iv-

BTS - V Imagine - Tall Girl - Interracial - Interlude [Flashback continued] -HOLY WATER REQ.

a/n - one more interlude after this - then we return to the present tomorrow!

The whites of her eyes were visible as they widened. Taehyung's head tilted as he pushed into her, his hand wrapped around her waist to tug her forward. The motion caused a gasp; that small part between her lips was an invitation he couldn’t ignore.

Wait, when did they get to her bedroom?

So he was met with the glistening slick sticking to her thighs.

Long fingers dug into the meat of her thighs as he lifted that molten gaze to her own. He placed a chaste kiss on that inner corner of her leg. The one so close to her sex, he could probably see her clenching. “You’re beautiful.” He inhaled that slightly sweet essence of...coconut? The more heat she radiated, the more the smell seemed to permeate his olfactory.

He pistoned those fingers to a symphony of muffled moans and squelching noises. She tried to be quiet, pulling the pillow over her face. He could hear her losing her sanity. Taehyung’s gaze grew dark as he yanked the pillow from her face. “We’re going to play a game, noona. It’s called Be Quiet.” She had enough resolve to give him an incredulous look as he stood. She saw the angry red, shiny tip of his cock over the top of his jeans.

He growled into her mouth as her teeth set into his top lip. “Tae, s-stop. You...ha-have to...oh my fuck, s-t-stop. Gonna..come, fuck..” Her voice was a hoarse plea against his mouth.

“N-no, Tae! W-wait, you don’t under-fuckme-stand. God, I...I can’t hold iiittt…” She keened softly.

And she exploded.

Sensitive, she bucked against the intrusion. “Look at me, noona.” Her eyes were wide as she got a good look at him. He looked ready to burst, those long fingers pushed her legs together. He slid between that tight space created by her thighs; a look of pure bliss painted his features. He kept her legs together, his hands grasping at her breasts. He fucked that space, sliding between her folds against her clit. She clenched, watching him, her hands moved down to create a tighter hole. The head of his cock pushed between her thumb and pointer finger. “You’re beautiful.” He panted against her calf.

“Don’t let anyone tell you other-w-wise, god, fucking…” His teeth set into her leg. “...I couldn’t..can’t stop thinking about you.” He gasped as his heart stuttered. They both knew that this was way out of line. They both knew that this could change things drastically.

They both didn’t care.

“God, I want you all to myself. A-ah, f-fuck, fuck, tighter, tighter…” He growled with each thrust. She squeezed him as he pushed through her fingers.

“T-tae, I’m gonna cum again.” She could feel the thundering pulsation in her stomach. “Oh, my, god...Taehyung, I’m g-gonna..” Immediately she reached for the blanket as her body bucked against the slide of his dick between her folds. She could feel the rippling sensation as her pussy clenched, seeking something as her legs trembled against his ribs.

She said his name, and he suddenly heard white noise. She spoke his name like a prayer to god's long dead. His thrusts were focused as she chanted his name. Spoke it like it would deliver absolution for her sins or her battered soul.

She pulled him down and spoke against his ear, moaning, “Give it to me. It’s mine.”

“I’m ...gonna...can I? Please? Can I?” The tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the pull in his testicles.

She fisted her hands in his hair. “I want it. With me, Tae, gonna ...again, with me..” He spread her legs, and she wrapped them around his waist. Heels digging into his ass to push him deeper. They rocked entangled limbs and lips.

He felt right on top of her - he knew it.

Oh no.

And now?

So did she.

#bts smut #bts imagines #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung x female #still a mess #tae is bossy #one more to go #this is only the beginning #keep the holy water out #namjesus didn't ask for this #sorry not sorry

34 notes · View notes

natashasbanner · 5 years ago

Text

and so the feeling grows, Chapter 3

Weddings bring out the romantic in all of us or at least that's what Harry keeps saying. Macy isn't entirely convinced.

One of her sisters is getting married, the other is playing matchmaker with the invitations and her best friend thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

Or, Mel is getting married and it brings Macy and Harry closer, a feat they didn't think was possible.

A/N: I was planning on posting this yesterday, but I fell asleep and woke up at ten pm. Please enjoy and let me know what you think :D

Also on AO3

The house was in chaos. Well, that was putting it nicely.

There were flower arrangements on every available surface, the dresses and tuxes for Niko’s side were hanging in the dining room and Macy and Maggie’s dresses were on a rack in the living room. The contents of Maggie’s binder were spread everywhere, taped to the walls and scattered over the entire first floor. Maggie herself was running around trying to put the final touches on everything from which mascara would be best on Mel to whether or not Niko should wear her curlers to bed.

Macy was staying out of the action, holed up in the kitchen with Harry who was there for moral support. They were baking muffins for breakfast in the morning, well Macy was baking and Harry was sitting at the island, stealing bites of chopped fruit when he thought she wasn’t looking.

“Does Maggie realize she’s not the one getting married?” he asked quietly.

Macy turned around and swatted his hand away from the bowl of blueberries.

“Mel hasn’t exactly made it easy for her,” Macy defended, catching a glimpse of Maggie shoving Niko into the dining room. “And weddings are stressful for everyone involved.”

He plucked a blueberry from the bowl and had it in his mouth before she could stop him and he smirked. “You seem to be doing fine,” he said, inclining his head toward her.

“I took myself out of the equation,” she said, making a waving motion around the kitchen. “I’m helping by making breakfast for tomorrow. You’re just sitting there.”

“They’re not my sisters.”

“Harry,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re family too, you know.”

He smiled, taking another blueberry. “So you all keep telling me.”

“Because it’s true.”

He shrugged his shoulder and ducked his head, his eyes on the book he’d been pretending to read. Macy watched him for a moment before going back to the mixer on the counter. She switched it on and watched the ingredients inside blend together.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Mel’s voice cut through the noise from the mixer and she switched it off and turned around to see Mel standing in the entryway of the kitchen.

“I’m actually going to kill her,” she repeated and Macy could see the fire in her eyes and the burning redness in her cheeks and chest.

Harry was on his feet and at Mel’s side in a flash, guiding her to his vacated chair.

“I don’t think Niko would appreciate taking her fiance to jail the night before her wedding,” he said soothingly, moving to pull a bottle of liquor from cabinet by the fridge.

Macy stood back and watched him pour two glasses and hand one to Mel. Her shoulders relaxed as he sat beside her and patted her shoulder.

“I just don’t get why they’re panicking,” she said with a sigh, downing what was in her glass. “We’ve been planning for months, it’s all perfect.”

“They’re just nervous,” Harry said, taking a sip from his own glass. “It’s a big thing, getting married.”

Mel snorted and reached for the bottle on the island. She poured herself a generous amount before Harry took the bottle from her. “If it were up to me, I’d just take Niko to Vegas and get it over with at one of those drive thru chapels.”

Macy chuckled and Harry did the same, finishing off the rest of his drink. “I’m afraid you’d be the one leaving the house in a body bag if Maggie or Niko heard you say that.”

“That doesn’t leave this kitchen.” Mel pinned him with a glare and he raised his hands in defense.

“You have my word,” he promised and Mel pointed her finger in Macy’s direction. “She took herself out of the equation.” Macy nodded her agreement and Mel relaxed and downed her drink again.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Harry said, sliding the bottle out of her reach. Macy stepped forward and screwed the lid back on, taking the bottle to put back in the cabinet. “I’ll distract Maggie and you go grab Niko and sneak out the back door. You can stay at my place tonight.” He dug his keys out of his pocket and pressed them into Mel’s hands.

“You two deserve a peaceful night before tomorrow,” he said, already moving to stand.

“Harry, we can’t do that,” Mel said, shaking her head, trying to give Harry his keys back.

“I insist, for our collective sanity.” He pushed her hand away. “You need a night away from this madness and I know you won’t get that here or at your apartment.”

Mel didn’t move for a moment, but eventually she stuck the keys in her pocket and slid out of her chair. “Thank you, Harry.”

To Macy’s surprise Mel wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. He looked over her head at Macy, eyes wide and she just smiled as he settled his hands on her back. Mel pulled away quickly and hurried out of the kitchen to find Niko.

Harry looked over at Macy, rubbing the back of his neck. “How do you feel about a sleepover?”

“I’ll allow it,” she said. “But you have to actually have to help me make these muffins.”

“Deal.”

“What you did with Mel was really great,” Macy said softly.

They were laid out in her bed, her laptop open between them with her favorite show playing quietly.

Harry shrugged, his eyes on the screen. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she argued. “You always know how to handle these things.”

He turned his head and nudged her shin with his foot. “I’ve had loads of practice.”

“So have I, but I hid in the kitchen and you sent Mel and Niko away and got Maggie to give the wedding planner from hell bit a rest,” she said with a sigh.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Macy. You’ve done a wonderful job with your sisters.” He reached across the distance between them and took her hand. “Mel is getting married tomorrow and Maggie damn near planned the whole thing. I’d say they turned out alright.”

He paused, giving her hand a tight squeeze. “My point is, you your best with the cards you all were dealt. And it’s okay to need a helping hand every once in a while, a hand I am more than happy to lend.”

Macy smiled and sighed. “Do you ever wonder what your life might be like if you hadn’t met us?”

“Don’t you mean if I hadn’t found you sobbing in the campus library in the middle of the day?”

She let go of his hand and swatted at his shoulder. “I was dealing with a lot and you refused to leave me alone.”

“I couldn’t leave you there, not in good conscience. Pardon me for being a decent human being,” he said huffily. “And I think the ten years of friendship that came from that day was well worth a little extra nudging.”

Macy reached for his hand and he laced their fingers together, bringing their joined hands to his chest.

“I almost ran the other way,” she admitted. “When you finally convinced me to eat something, I was going to bolt as soon as you turned your back. But you never turned your back on me.”

“And I never plan to,” he said, bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Even if it means giving up the comfort of your own home for the night so that my sisters don’t kill each other?”

He grinned against her knuckles and planted another kiss there. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Macy bit her lip, her heart thumping in her chest. Harry looked back at the screen, holding her hand against his chest and she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his shirt. His eyelids were drooping longer and longer with every passing minute until his grip on her hand loosened.

Macy used her free hand to close her laptop before settling against her pillow. She pulled her hand free from Harry’s and smoothed the hair back from his forehead as her eyes slid over his face. His mouth was opened slightly, his soft snores filling the quiet room.

She could already imagine all the teasing Maggie would no doubt find time for tomorrow, even with the wedding going on. Harry spending the night in her bed sure as hell looked like they were a couple. And Macy would be lying if she said it hadn’t crossed her mind more than a handful of times over the last ten years. But their friendship was far too precious to hope for anything more and risk losing everything.

He came into her life that day in the library and never left. Not when Mel fought his presence tooth and nail for years, not when Maggie refused to leave his side to the point where he couldn’t leave the house for over a week, not when Macy screamed for hours when he took her sisters out to dinner when she was working late and he left his phone on the kitchen table. He was there for everything after her mother died and she was made guardian of Mel and Maggie.

Harry was their family and Macy’s best friend, that had to be enough.

He stirred under her touch, reaching up to swat her hand away from his hair. His fingers closed around hers and he held her hand against his chest. Macy smiled to herself and let the steady rhythm of his heart beating against her fingers lull her to sleep.

Her last thought before she drifted off completely was that this was enough.

Macy woke up to pounding on her bedroom door. She shot straight up in bed, completely disoriented. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in her blinds and she blinked against the sudden brightness. The bed shifted beside her, drawing her attention to Harry who was somehow still asleep.

He’d moved closer through the night, filling the respectable gap that had been between them and had his arm draped loosely over her waist. Macy didn’t have time to worry about the implications of that because the pounding started again and this time Maggie yelled through the door.

“Macy! You guys need to wake up. Someone has to go get Mel and Niko.”

“I’m up,” Macy called back, scrubbing her hands down her face.

Maggie banged on the door one last time and Macy heard her annoyed huff. “They were supposed to start getting ready an hour ago. Tell Harry I hate him for helping them sneak out.”

Harry chuckled from beside her, pulling his arm away to cover his eyes as he rolled over. Macy missed the warmth as soon as it was gone, but she shoved that thought down as soon as it surfaced. Now was not the time.

“He heard you,” she said, but she could already hear Maggie’s retreating footsteps.

Harry started laughing and Macy turned to pin him with a glare. He couldn’t see it, but she smacked him in the shoulder to get him to look at her.

“What was that for?” he asked, looking up at her with sleepy eyes and furrowed brows.

Macy poked him in the center of his chest. “This is not funny and it’s your fault she’s already on the war path.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She narrowed her eyes and snatched the pillow from under his head. “Get out of my room.”

He just laughed again and Macy was tempted to smother him, but that would only set Maggie’s schedule back even further. And that was out of the question.

“She’ll come back and drag us out if one of us doesn’t go out there.” Macy warned.

He held his hands up defensively. “I’m going, I’m going. I’ll even bring coffee when I come back.”

“I won’t smother you then,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as he got up.

“You were thinking about smothering me?” He asked, tilting his head to one side.

“Jury’s still out.”

“I’ll make that a double shot for you then,” he said with a smirk, eyeing the pillow she was still holding in her hands. “Have fun with Maggie.”

Macy wrinkled her nose and watched him walk over to the door. “I don’t like you.”

He chuckled as he turned the doorknob. “Yes you do.”

The door behind him with a soft click and Macy repeated, “yes, I do.”

#hacy #macy x harry #my fic #please enjoy :D #fingers crossed this chapter actually shows up in the tags

3 notes · View notes

nofeartina · 6 years ago

Note

Hi Tina. You still want to write some small ficlet-type promptfills or am I late? I`ll still tell my ideas though. So maybe it's not really small ficlet-type promptfills but I still say. Do you remember "Alphabet Aerobics"? Chapter 19... "For a brief second, he wonders if he should try making Even come like this, whether he even could. If Isak just kept it up, kept rimming him, would it be enough?" I think you understand what I want, ok? Do it for Even. He is wonderful and deserves it. Love you

Sooooooo. Apparently, this fitted the small ficlet-type format just fine because guess what I just did? :D (It’s not specifically AA-Isak and Even tho, but you can decide that for yourself haha)

Thank you for the prompt, sweet anon! I hope it’s everything you wanted. And thank you, @fille-lioncelle for looking it through and fixing my mistakes. You’re the best. ❤

Obviously, this is smutty as all heck, so it’s under the read more. Enter at your own risk. ;)

He doesn’t care that they don’t really do this that often. Doesn’t even care how his jaw is starting to hurt, how his back is achy from bending over like this.

It doesn’t matter.

Not when Even is starting to shake under him, his hole loosening around his tongue, glistening with spit.

Isak has been going at it for a while now. What started out as a small step towards getting Even ready to fuck, has now turned into something completely different.

It’s not like Isak’s dick isn’t hurting between his legs, pulsing achingly from the lack of attention, but he doesn’t want to put his hand around it. He’s not ready to abandon what he’s doing here, licking his way inside Even over and over again, rubbing at his rim with the pads of his fingers and the tip of his tongue until Even is swollen and overly sensitive.

Even is making these high-pitched sounds that Isak hasn’t heard him make before, his hips moving in small aborted thrusts like he can’t help himself, his breaths turned into small hitching gasps. Isak is so goddamn turned on by how Even just gives himself over to this, lets Isak set the pace and control what happens next, he almost gives in to the need to touch himself. Almost, but somehow he manages to hold back.

He wants to see how far Even is able to go with this.

He’s never done this to Even before, not like this. He’s never just continued past the point where Even is begging for him to fuck him because it’s just never been possible for him to not give Even what he’s asking for when he’s asking like that.

But for some reason, today he did - just dug his fingers in, spread Even’s ass even more and continued. And now he’s reaping the rewards.

He’s never seen Even lose it like this. How he slowly lost strength in his arms until they gave out, how the sweat started to break out over his body until he was drenched, hair curling up on his nape, hands gripping onto the bedding under him. His back is arched, his ass constantly moving, pushing back against Isak, his dick swinging under him, and Isak can smell the precum leaking from it.

Everything is so hot. Isak keeps his eyes on the trembling, squirming muscles on Even’s back, and he wants to touch it, feel how sweaty and hot he is, but he’s loathe to give up his grip on Even.

He alternates between long, slow, broad licks over Even’s taint and crack, tongue catching on Even’s puffy rim, and quick jabs inside, licking in and in and in until he feels like his jaw is about to cramp up. His thumbs are holding Even open, making it easier for him to lick inside, to taste the softness of Even’s walls and make him just as sensitive inside as he is outside.

He knows he’s skirting the edge of what Even can take, knows that he’s probably starting to get sore, but as long as Even lets him continue, he will. He’s enjoying himself too much to stop.

One of his thumbs slips on spit, sliding out and releasing the hard grip he has on Even, and Even keens.

“Shit,” he croaks, voice rough and low, and Isak moans at the sound.

Even’s hands grip harder onto the bedding, his back a tight string of tension, every muscle in his body hard and strained.

Fuck. He’s so gorgeous, Isak’s dick throbs with need between his thighs and he can’t help but picture just how easy it would be by now to just bury himself inside Even, with how open and wet he is with spit.

Isak wants to, Isak wants to so bad, can almost feel the warm tightness around him, just how good it would be, but seeing Even lose it like this is its own kind of reward.

“You taste so good,” he moans against Even’s hole, watching it flutter from his words, another low and rough sound punched out of Even as he reaches back and puts his big hand in Isak’s hair and pushes him against his ass.

“More, more!” he demands and Isak obliges. Of course he does.

He licks harder, buries his face in Even’s ass and sucks until Even trembles under him so hard that Isak loses his suction. He moves his face with Even’s movements, or tries to, but he’s moving so fast and hard now that it’s almost impossible.

Isak doesn’t even have to ask, it’s so obvious that Even is close.

He desperately wants Even to come like this, wants to see if he can, if Isak is able to get him to, he almost loses his breath thinking about it.

He pulls back, rubs the rim hard with his thumb to ease his aching jaw for a short while, Even crying out with the stimulation. Hearing Even makes it easy to ignore his jaw and he dives back in, licks around his thumb, keeps his tongue and finger moving faster and faster and faster until Even stops breathing, stops moaning, stops moving.

His hole grows tight around Isak’s thumb and his tongue, and Isak knows that it’s happening, speeds up even though his tongue feels like it’s about to fall off, and then Even shouts just as his dick starts shooting under him.

The smell of Even’s release hits Isak like a freight train, making him moan against Even’s hole, licking and rubbing and sucking him through his release that lasts and lasts and lasts until Even collapses under him.

Isak sits back on his haunches, wipes his chin and mouth with his hand, and it’s not until now that he notices how much he’s trembling himself.

But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except the sight Even makes.

He’s lying on the bed, sweaty and shaky, breathing hard. His eyes are still closed, cheeks wet with tears, and he looks like Isak blew his mind completely. His legs are spread on each side of Isak and Isak has a clear sight of Even’s ass and his red and puffy hole, which looks so inviting and so used that Isak almost can’t breathe from it.

“Fuck, Even,” he moans and leans in over him, putting his thumb on Even’s hole again, but Even keens and moves away from him.

“I’m so sore, I can’t…” he says sounding apologetic, but hearing that makes Isak’s stomach explode with want and need, something deep inside of him buzzing with pride and something darker that he doesn’t want to name.

Isak moves his hand to Even’s side, shushes him, leans in and kisses Even’s shoulder with his sore lips and starts pulling himself off.

It won’t take much, he’s so on edge already, senses full of Even; Even in his mouth, the smell of his release in his nose, the wetness of his sweat against his lips, it’s so good.

“You’re perfect, you’re so good, you drive me crazy,” Isak mutters as his hand moves between their bodies, easing the throbbing ache in his dick, his balls pulling up so tight that he has to stop talking to clench his teeth instead.

Even whimpers, but arches his back until his ass touches Isak’s dick and that’s it for Isak.

He looks down between them, watching himself paint Even’s ass and hole and lower back with ropes of white, and it does something to him, something unnamable fluttering in his stomach, making his heart beat faster with how Even just lies there and lets him.

He doesn’t stop stroking even as his dick stops pulsing. He’s so sensitive but it feels good to just keep his grip loose as he moves, as he points the tip down and rubs it over Even’s crack and over his hole, making sure his cum covers Even there.

Even doesn’t say anything, but Isak can’t help but notice the trembling tension in Even’s body.

Fuck.

Isak finally lets go and collapses on top of Even, rubbing his forehead against the skin of his neck, lips moving as he tells Even just how much he loves him.

“Isak,” Even sighs and Isak wants to kiss him but he really doesn’t want to move.

“Yeah.”

Isak knows that he’s heavy lying here like this, but he can’t stand the thought of moving away from Even. He wants to cover Even, wants him to know that he’s there, needs to feel him against him.

“Are you okay?” Even asks, and Isak huffs out a laugh.

“Are you?”

Even huffs out a laugh too.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m so okay.”

“Hmmm,” Isak hums and kisses Even where he can reach without moving. “Me too. So okay.”

He traces the soft skin of Even’s arm, drawing intricate patterns with his fingers, a giddiness filling him at the thought of what he just did.

He still can’t believe that Even was able to come like that. It seems it doesn’t matter how long they’re together, how many things they do, somehow they’re still able to surprise each other with things like this.

He can’t imagine anything else ever feeling this right.

So he kisses Even’s shoulder and settles against his body, getting ready not to move anywhere for a good while. He knows that eventually Even will complain that he’s too heavy, that they’re filthy, that they should shower and change the sheets, complain until Isak has no other option but to move.

But for now, he lets himself relax, enjoy the closeness and how relaxed they both are.

Everything else can wait.

#prompt fill #so much r*mming #literaly nothing but #lemon #i really need to use that tag here #so fair warning peeps!#proceed with caution #;)#nofeartina writes #Anonymous

53 notes · View notes

dviciousbikefemme · 5 years ago

Text

This past week has been full of ups and downs. From long days in the desert to warm and quality company, we’ve been dealt a set of experiences that are unforgettable. Times have been tough. Phoenix wasn’t too inviting at first and I am thankful for the Warmshowers we ended up with last night. We will remain here until the rain is over. For those of you that don’t know what a Warmshowers is, it is a hosting network that puts long distance cyclists up in individuals’ homes for free. It’s essentially couch surfing for cyclists.

Once again, I think posting once or twice a week will be normal for me until I’m at a better cadence. Everyday is a little unpredictable and I never am quite sure where we will end up. But that’s the point and we’ve made it work so far. In so many ways this lifestyle has released a lot of anxiety and is relief from the sort of stories and assumptions I create in my head around daily interactions and subtleties. You know what I’m talking about. Mind chatter. I don’t have my therapist with me on the road but being on the road forces complete presence.

And when I’m typing these little snippets of life out, it always takes longer than I’d ever expect. You kinda rack your brain with “What do I want to share?””I want to be authentic” “Is this boring?”. This is for me as much as it is for y’all so looking back on these memories, I want to be able to connect with every flavor of feeling.

Since Ocotillo, we’ve pedaled through some major stretches. Leaving Ocotillo on the fourth day started out pleasant in the morning sun. We followed SR98 through the Yuha Desert and its interesting terrain. We paralleled the border with open skies and the mountains of Mexico on our south side. The temperature was great and I was feeling hopeful and touched from the night before. Upon exiting the Yuha, the landscape quickly changed as we drew closer to El Centro and Calexico city limits. Miles and miles of solar panels and broccoli that would never touch the small grocery stores in the very region that grows it. Small towns in the deserts are very much food deserts. You typically can find only packaged foods and meat. Vegetables are scarce and when you do run into them, they are brown and slimey. Once we reached Calexico, the traffic became heavy. There we entered SR111 where we did several miles beside semis and big box corporate stores. At the end of this 50 mile day we settled into a Days Inn in Brawley. We treated ourselves as we foresaw another long stretch ahead. Between the town of Brawley and the town of Blythe there’s about 80miles of limited resources. We wanted to be well rested for day five. That evening we stocked up on groceries and water and caught ourselves up on the Democratic campaign and Coronavirus drama.

Leaving Brawley we pushed through more agricultural land and passed by several sad lil CAFOs (concentrated animal feeding operations). This day was one of our hardest as it was roughly 65 miles and through some tough conditions. When we continued east on SR78, the landscape changed dramatically, once again. We entered into the Algodones Dunes of Southern California that would lead to the “town” of Glamis. Glamis is a town that exists seasonally. It’s a giant playground for folks with a lot of money. We saw some seriously fancy off-road vehicles in the Dunes. It’s scattered about with millions of dollars worth of trailers and RVs, dune buggies and generators. You have to see it for yourself. I didn’t quite capture this stretch in any quality photographs as it was a tough climb with a lot of sand on the shoulders, but I certainly never saw anything like it in my life. We had one guy dipped down off the road under the shade of his trailer awning, hollering up at us, wondering if we might like a beer. We politely declined with a peace sign as we thought it might be dangerous to try and slide down there. A couple miles after the friendly stranger, we dropped into the convenience store of this “town” for an ice cold cola and water refill. There I fantasized about riding around in the buggies. Sure would’ve been fun.

From Glamis on, the road conditions became worse as we proceeded down the shoulder-less 78 in high sun and head wind with cars traveling at about 65mph. Toward the end of it there were several miles in the desert full of dips in the road, making visibility very difficult for both us and for cars and trucks. I grew tired and hungry and frustrated. And with every little hill that came my way I would audibly groan a mighty groan. At about 5:30pm we reached the BLM Oxbow Campground, resting peacefully on the Colorado River. It had a very clean pit toilet but with no access to potable water. We wouldn’t reach all services again until the next day, 20 miles away in Blythe. Our moods quickly transformed from sour to sweet as we enjoyed the beautiful, cool and clear night sitting in the silence of the moonlight— silently loving, silently relieving pain and silently oozing with pride of the hard day’s work.

On Saturday morning we didn’t have much of an agenda and decided to take it easy. One of the snowbirds at the grounds asked us if we needed anything —we said YES COFFEE PLEASE. So we shared our morning with Don and Judy of British Columbia. We talked about music and the great North American landscape and the other bikers they’ve met through their years of travel. They eventually reminded us of the time and we began to pack up and head to Blythe.

Blythe was only about 20 miles out and once we arrived in Blythe we didn’t leave. We went to the Ace Hardware for some camping fuel. Outside the store we met Robin, a town local who invited us to his drinking hole that doubled as a Warmshowers host. We weren’t quite sure if we wanted to quit for the day. We went out to grab lunch (a delicious huevos rancheros!) and discussed what to do next. We wanted to check this Warmshowers out before completely dismissing it. It is located at the B and B (beer and bait shop) a couple of miles outside the main stretch. Upon arrival, we were greeted with ice cold Coors Lites... and another round... and another round... and another... and then we bought a round... and before we knew it we were setting up our tent behind the shop and getting a car ride to the grocery store. The property holds the shop, a few trailers with residents and a rescue goose named Lucy. We had a wonderful afternoon with a handful of kind folks and colorful stories. One man told us of “transporting bodies”. He’s rotated his work between being a medic and working in the prison system. Scott, on the other side of the table, was witness to a completely different set of experiences. He is a former addict and was incarcerated for several years. This group of sweet people spoke of the man, Wayne, that started the communal property and his love for everyone that came through. Warmshowers has been running there for 10+ years, still thriving, even after he sold the property to take care of his sick wife. I was touched by one of the community members that approached Bobby and I while we were setting up camp saying “Blythe is the armpit of CA. We feel forgotten about, but we do have each other here. We want you to feel comfortable and at home. Whatever is ours is yours and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. We rely on one another in this town”. We felt grateful to have passed through Blythe and crossed such heart warming folks.

On Sunday morning, we rose early in the dark with the time change. We spent a lot of time going east on the I-10 that day. We met a couple of cyclists at a rest stop. One of them is from the US, the other from Australia. We expected to see them again, and the next day did at a Mexican restaurant whilst stopping for lunch. We did about 50 miles yet again and camped at Ramblin’ Roads RV Park in a place called Hope, AZ. We talked to another cycling group, this one consisting of three women from Maine. Mary chatted us up a bunch. They were not looking to stop quite yet and had a few more miles to do that day. We had a lot of time that evening so we made glorified Ramen and dug into the books we are reading. I caught up with my mama on the phone and encountered some of the cleanest showers I bathed in thus far.

Monday we trekked far into Wickenburg, our final stop before going into Phoenix. We stopped halfway for lunch and ran into both groups of women. The three from Maine goofed off and snacked on Mexican sweets in front of a convenience store. They were also heading to Wickenburg and figured we all might end up camping together. And we did that night at the Aztec Village RV Park. We had a grand time with these fine women. Noreen, the matriarch of the group, is hesitant to introduce herself to people at first and knows how she likes things. She is direct and communicates very well. I really like her— she’s very gentle and nurturing once she gets to know you a little more. She is a former Acadia National Park ranger. Working there is how she got to know Mary. Mary’s got a hankering for finding Gila monster skins and armadillo tails. Auralie (sp?) was the third and youngest of the group. Noreen met her by “shushing” her at a French film viewing. Auralie is French-American and is quite funny. She kept reminding us all that gender and time are both social constructs. Can’t say I disagree. We cooked dinner together and spoke of our adventures and about how much fun we were all having. They are a splendid group that really made me homesick for my SHRIMPS. Shrimps are the gals I bike and bond with back home in WA. Don’t ask as to why we are shrimps. We just are. That night it began to rain, it covered up the loud sound of traffic rushing by. We all woke up to wet tents. Bobby and I got an early start to Phoenix. Before taking off we said “See you later down the road” to our new cycling friends.

2 notes · View notes

binary5tar1117 · 6 years ago

Text

Paint the Roses White - Ch. 3

Written by: @i-live-so-i-love and @kimlinebiased

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: main VMin, side NamJinGi, side HopeKook 

Genres: fantasy, angst, smut

Tags: Alice in Wonderland AU, smut, fluff, angst, alternate universe, bottom!Taehyung, top!Jimin, violence, abusive parents, shapeshifter!Taehyung, barebacking, alcohol use, side HopeKook, sideNamJinGi, implied drug use, more tags added as necessary

Summary: Jimin’s life sucks. He’s miserable, beat down, and tired. That is, until a mysterious boy with purple hair and a dangerous smile slides into his life and turns it upside down. The White Queen is ruling and drinks are on the house in the Hat Trick Lounge. Caterpillar is missing and the Prince of Hearts is ready for a war, if only he could figure out where his damn rabbit ran off to again…

Word Count: ~10.1k+ (updated biweekly)

A/N: If you’d like to be tagged in chapters, please send either @kimlinebiased or myself a message or DM off anon - we will add you to a tag list so you never miss an update! Alternately, you can subscribe on AO3 for an email when a chapter is posted!

A/N2: We are anticipating a biweekly upload schedule! This may vary on the day week to week due to just general real life things, and if anything big changes we’ll try to let you know.

Jimin woke up face first in the dirt. He groaned. There was a sharp sting in his upper arm and his muscles ached like he’d run a marathon. Memories of the last few hours flooded his mind. He shot up, looking around. He was on a dirt road through a forest, it stretched on in either direction as far as he could see. Off in the distance he could just make out a blonde figure disappearing over the horizon.

“Hey!” Jimin called after him.

Panic clutched at Jimin’s throat. He had no idea where he was or how he got here because what just happened couldn’t possibly have happened. He had no idea how to get back home. There wasn’t even anyone around to ask for help. Tears burned behind his eyes. Worst of all, he had let Taehyung down. He’d lost the drive.

He wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. He didn’t have time to cry over it right now.

He poked at the hole in his dress shirt. The red stain spreading looked worse than it was. The bullet had only grazed him and not even that deeply. Since it was ripped and stained anyway he tore the sleeve off and tied it around the wound. It was the best he could do for now.

He took a deep breath and stared down the road to his left where Rabbit had disappeared. He could see a smoky haze in the sky; the other way was nothing. He shrugged. Something was better than nothing.

As he walked along the path he took in the trees around him. They were different than he was used to. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. The leaves were a little too green and the branches never quite angled the way he expected. Still, they were pretty and it let Jimin relax a little.

An odd crunch under Jimin’s foot made him pause and look down. He lifted his foot and underneath were shards of the dark pearl Rabbit used to bring them here. Jimin’s stomach dropped. Would he be able to get home without it? He crouched to pick up the pieces. Maybe it could be fixed.

As he stood up a woman’s voice behind him made him turn.

“Oh Oyster! Come and walk with us!” She stood in the middle of the road, closer than he would have expected. She was dressed head to toe in black, her black and purple hair pulled into a high tight ponytail. Her wide set eyes glittered, a cruel smile curving her red lips.

Before Jimin could respond another voice spoke from the direction he had been facing a moment ago.

“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk.” She was dressed the same at the other woman in all black, the same smile across her face.

“We’ll talk of many things,” the first woman said. She had gotten closer, nearly in arms reach away now. Jimin could see a collection of knives along her waist.

“Of shoes and ships and sealing wax.”

“Of cabbages and kings.”

They circled him threateningly. Jimin crouched, prepared to defend himself but not liking his odds against their knives.

“Of why the sea--” The second woman dropped her stance and put her hands on her hips. “Hyuna, can we just kill him and be done now? I’m bored of this already,” she whined.

“You’re bored of everything, Jiwoo. There’s a reason you’re called a walrus.” The one named Hyuna clapped her hands and made a barking noise.

“That’s a seal, you fool. I still want to kill him.” She drew a long ivory dagger from behind her, raising it threateningly.

“Whoa! Kill me?” Jimin squeaked, raising his hands in a weak defense. “For what?”

“Don’t play dumb. We know what you are.”

“I’m Jimin! Park Jimin. Please! I just want to go home.”

Jiwoo hesitated. She glanced at Hyuna.

“You can’t be. It’s impossible.”

“Please!” Jimin tried again. “I didn’t mean to come! I just wanted the drive. See?” He held out the broken pearl. Hyuna swore, yanking the shards from his palm.

“You fool!” She hissed, her eyes glinting dangerously. It reminded Jimin of Taehyung. “Why would you break this! It was the last we had!”

“You know why he broke it,” Jiwoo said, wiggling the dagger. “He’s an Oyster.”

“I’m not! I’m just a guy!” Jimin cried.

“His hair,” Hyuna said softly, her dark eyes searching Jimin up and down. Her nose twitched, catlike. “And he doesn’t smell like the Oysters.”

“Could be a disguise. They know about us.”

Hyuna stepped closer to Jimin. She tilted her head, her eyes widening a little as she searched his face. Jimin couldn’t hide the gasp that slipped from his mouth when her eyes shifted in front of him, tiny, catlike slits taking the place of her previously round pupils. She blinked, her eyes returning to normal. “I can’t figure out what he is.”

“I’m just a guy. Park Jimin. I was born in Busan, I-- I live alone with my dad, I work in a call center for Christ’s sake. I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to get tangled up in all this! Taehyung gave me--”

“Taehyung!” Jiwoo cried. “What of Taehyung?”

“I-- We--” Jimin’s cheeks burned hot. “I met him,” he mumbled, not wanting to risk outing Taehyung by accident to these two women.

“We shouldn’t kill him,” Hyuna said. Jimin sighed in relief. “Yet,” she added, smirking at him. Jiwoo pouted, a strikingly innocent expression on her beautifully deadly face. “Why?”

“There’s something wrong here. I can smell it. We should take him to the Hat Trick.”

“Then can we kill him?”

“As soon as the Prince gets a good look at him, yeah, we’ll open him up and take out the pretty pearls.”

Jimin’s stomach twisted painfully at the delightful noise Jiwoo made at Hyuna’s promise. Much to his relief, she sheathed the dagger, but withdrew a set of handcuffs. Jimin stepped back, wondering if he had a shot in hell of escaping.

“It’s gonna be best if you just come with us, Oyster,” Hyuna warned. Jimin felt the prick of a knife along his side. He tensed. “We’re not the untrained kittens you’re used to dealing with.”

Jimin swallowed audibly. “Just put the knife away. I’ll come,” he whispered.

“Knife?” Hyuna chuckled. She raised her hand, revealing sharp claws in place of her previously blood red manicured nails. “The knives are just for show… My paws work so much better.”

Jimin cried out in surprise, stumbling away from Hyuna, and directly into Jiwoo’s arms. “Gotcha!” She teased, laughing as she slapped the cuffs on his wrists. She grabbed the center metal links and began to walk, all but dragging Jimin along behind her.

Hyuna followed along behind them, her steps so silent that Jimin could scarcely hear them. As they walked toward the hazy end of the road that Rabbit had disappeared from, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder if he was being led to his salvation… Or his doom.

Jimin wasn't sure how long or far they walked. The road seemed to never change. At first he had tried asking questions but Jiwoo snapped at him. He may need his tongue to answer questions, but he didn't need all his fingers. He didn't think it was worth risking whether she was bluffing since they weren’t answering them anyway. So he remained silent.

Jiwoo and Hyuna occasionally chatted as they walked. Jimin guessed they were close, sisters maybe from the undertone of bickering.

At no sign Jimin could see, Jiwoo turned and hauled him into the bushes. Jimin dug in his heels, suddenly terrified they were dragging him into the woods to kill him. “Wait- I thought you were taking me to someone? To answer questions.”

“We are, stupid Oyster. Didn't you see the sign?” Jiwoo gestured impatiently behind him.

Jimin turned and there was now an incongruous neon sign reading “Hatter & Hare’s Hat Trick Lounge”.

Further down Jimin could see other signs: “Mock Turtle’s Fashion Boutique”, “Lobster Quadrille Dance Studio”, “Golden Nile Crocodile Spa”. When he looked back the way they had been going there was still nothing.

“Let’s go.” Hyuna pricked him in the back to get him moving.

Jimin stumbled through the brush until they landed on a path narrower but parallel to the one they’d left. This one wound through the trees in loops and branched. Some paths continued further into the woods and some ended abruptly. His guards led him down the closest path. As they approached a wooden door popped into existence, light brown and inviting. Jimin blinked. He could see around it to the other side but Hyuna knocked, clearly expecting an answer.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” a voice called through the keyhole.

“Jae, if you don’t let me in, I swear to god I will cut your fucking balls off.”

The door opened and a heavy drum beat poured out. A tall man with round glasses leaned against the door. Behind him was a dark room with distant flashing lights. Definitely not the woods Jimin was standing in. “What’s the point of a secret entrance if you don’t have a secret code?” Jae said, exasperated.

Jiwoo dragged Jimin through the door and shut it. The woods disappeared and Jimin was now in what was clearly a storage room of some kind. Wine barrels lined one wall there were rows of shelves with boxes of varying sizes.

“Who’s this? New recruit?” Jae nodded at Jimin.

“An Oyster Hyuna wouldn’t let me kill.”

Jae’s eyes widened.

“I’m not an Oyster. I don’t even know what that is. I’m just a guy!” Jimin tried to insist. The others ignored him.

Jae looked him over. “But his hair.”

“And what about yours?” Jiwoo cocked her head, annoyed.

Jae ran a hand through his fading pink hair. He opened his mouth to retort but Hyuna cut him off.

“Enough. Go get Jin so we can sort this out and be done? Grab Taehyung if he’s around too.”

Jae nodded and left with a backwards glance at Jimin.

The beat of the music from the other room was almost hypnotic, a rhythm that Jimin could feel in his bones. He took the opportunity to look around the room, searching for any clue as to where he might be. The wine barrels were stamped with varying numbers that Jimin couldn’t make heads nor tails of. There was a strawberry sweet scent all around them, implying at least some of the alcohol was fruit flavored. The boxes on the shelves were labeled with various words, glasses, bottles, corks, labels, etcetera. What was clearly the name of the place, the Hat Trick Lounge, was emblazoned on the high wall above the barrels.

Jae returned, a bottle of light pink liquid with a label of a jumping rabbit in his grip. “Jin wants you to take him to the lounge. He and the rest are there.”

“Who are the rest?” Hyuna asked.

“Hatter and Rabbit. Taehyung’s off chasing mice or whatever the hell you Cheshires hunt.”

Jiwoo swiped the air in front of Jae’s face with her claws. “Come a little closer and I’ll show you what we hunt.”

Jae rolled his eyes, smiling good naturedly. Jimin wasn’t sure how he wasn’t wetting himself in the presence of these two.

“Hush your hissing, Jiwoo. Doesn’t become you. Go on.” He nodded toward a door Jimin hadn’t seen before. As they passed, Jimin looked at him pleadingly. Jae smiled and shrugged helplessly. He knocked back another sip of his drink and wandered into the darkness on the other side of the room as Jimin was pulled through the door.

Jimin found himself in the middle of a room with no door and no windows, save for a rose colored glass roof that allowed sunshine to filter through. The centerpiece of the room was a rich cherrywood table, littered with the same rabbit labeled bottles that Jae had been holding, as well as a few half full bowls of brightly colored cookies and sweets. There were two leather loveseats and an easy chair surrounding the table, broken in and worn to the point that stuffing was sticking out in some places. On one of the easy chairs was occupied by a tall, slender man. He wore a hot pink baseball cap, bright orange hair sticking out wildly. The sides of the cap pushed his ears down so they folded over, adding to the overall crazy appearance that his flashy, patched and stitched together clothing already implied.

The love seat next to him was occupied by a strikingly beautiful redhead. He wore a leather jacket and a pair of jeans ripped in various areas to show his knees and thighs. Jimin’s eyes widened when he realized the man’s hair matched his own in vibrance and shade. He paid Jimin and his captors no attention, his focus on Rabbit, who had his head in the redhead’s lap. He was stroking his fingers through Rabbit’s soft white hair, his plush lips curled up into a quiet smile.

“You!” Jimin cried.

The two men on the couch looked up and Rabbit’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You! What are you doing here?” Rabbit asked, sitting up.

Jimin scowled. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I followed you.” He took a step toward the couch but a hand wrapped around his injured arm painfully tight, claws digging into his skin. “Give me back the pen drive and send me home!”

Rabbit looked more confused than ever. “Followed me? How?”

Jimin opened his mouth to retort but the redhead cut him off.

“Namjoon, who is he?” He spoke calmly and quietly but there was an air of command to his voice.

Rabbit, who’s real name must have been Namjoon, turned back to the redhead. “Park Jimin,” he answered with a significant look. “Taehyung’s boyfriend.”

Jimin blushed. “I’m not- we’re not-”

The redhead stood up and stuck out his hand. “A friend of Taehyung’s is a friend of mine...usually.” His full lips curved into a smile. “I’m Kim Seokjin. Most people around here just call me Jin.” Jimin shook his hand awkwardly in the handcuffs, slightly bewildered.

”Oh, we can take those off.” Jin gestured for Hyuna to uncuff him.

Jiwoo pouted. “He’s really Taehyung’s boyfriend? We don’t get to kill him?”

Jimin blushed again at her phrasing. It had only been one night.

“He had the drive with all the information on it and he was trying to protect it with his life.” Namjoon smiled at Jimin. “He’s on our side.”

Jiwoo made an unhappy hissing noise.

“Sorry, you’ll have to find someone else to sharpen your claws on. Rook and Bishop might still be out there,” Jin suggested.

Once Hyuna was done uncuffing Jimin, she grabbed Jiwoo by the shoulders and steered her out a door that appeared as they turned. “Come on. Let’s go find Solbi-unnie and Adora-unnie for a drink before we head out.”

“Sorry about them.” Jin said once the door disappeared again. “They, uh, enjoy their job a little too much. Especially Jiwoo. But they are good at it.” He gestured for Jimin to take a seat.

Jimin hesitated. “How do I know I can trust you? If you’re friends with Taehyung, where is he? Can I talk to him?”

“I’m sorry Jimin. He didn’t realize how close he was being followed when he gave you that thumb drive. He’s still in hiding trying to shake of a couple Oysters.” Jin hurried to add when he saw Jimin expression, “he’s okay. He’s let us know that he’s safe. He just doesn’t want to risk coming back to the hideout and giving us away until he’s sure it’s safe. Sit please.”

Jimin finally did.

“You look like you need a drink.” The orange haired man leaned forward to pour some of the pink liquid into a clean glass and hand it to Jimin. “I’m Jung Hoseok, the uh,” he flicked the brim of his cap and grinned, “hatter of Hatter and Hare’s Hat Trick Lounge.”

Jimin peered into the glass considering whether it was safe to drink. It smelled sweet and refreshing. “So he’s hare then?” Jimin nodded at Namjoon.

All three burst into laughter.

“He wishes,” Hoseok muttered, shoving Namjoon playfully. “No. Hare is-”

“Hoseokie-hyung! Why did you miss my dance?” A tall half clothed young man with pink hair and fake pink bunny ears on his head appeared behind Jimin. There was still no door so Jimin wasn’t sure where he came from.

The man marched across the room and climbed into Hoseok’s lap, straddling him. “You said you’d be there,” he pouted, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s neck. “You never miss a dance.”

Hoseok rubbed over the man’s bare thighs and shiny pink shorts. “I’m know baby. I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook.” Jin’s voice cut into their not so private moment. “We have a guest.”

Jungkook turned, cocking his head at Jimin. His eyes narrowed, his nose scrunching. The action lifted his top lip enough to reveal the peek of his front teeth, giving him a very bunny like expression. Jimin couldn’t hide the smile that slid onto his face despite everything. The guy was cute, he had to admit.

“Who’re you?” Jungkook asked.

“I-- Park Jimin.”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook. JK.”

“Or the March Hare,” Namjoon added, jutting his thumb toward the wall. Jimin spotted a calendar hanging. It was open to March’s image, which just so happened to be Jungkook in his bunny ears and nothing else. A basket full of goodies was the only thing hiding his goods from view.

“March. Got it,” Jimin said.

“Is he why you missed my dance?” Jungkook asked, turning his attention back to Hoseok.

“Unfortunately no. I wish it was that simple. Some business to discuss with Jin-hyung.”

The pouting smile disappeared from Jungkook’s face. “Resistance information?”

Hoseok nodded.

“Fill me in?”

“Of course. Entertain our patrons?”

“Always. Jae-hyung is cracking bad jokes for now, it’ll only be so long before the guests start throwing fruit at his head.”

“Ah, well, better go soothe the crowd then. Keep those ears cocked for any Queen news, yes?” Hoseok stroked one of the ears playfully. Jungkook nodded, his strikingly innocent smile returning.

He slid off Hoseok’s lap and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He turned and bowed to Jimin. As he darted out of the door that disappeared in the blink of an eye, Jimin couldn’t help but notice the way the young man had stared at his hair. Even in this world, he seemed to stick out. With one exception.

“Is your hair real?” Jimin asked, turning his attention toward Jin.

The air in the room seemed to thicken a little. “Yes,” Jin answered after a moment.

“I’ve never seen another person with hair like mine unless it’s been dyed. Even then…”

“Well,” Jin smiled a little, glancing over at Namjoon. “That’s likely because I’m not a human. Not really.”

Jimin snorted. “Very funny. What is this stuff?” He asked, tilting his glass a little.

“Wine. We make it ourselves. Strawberry flavor.” Hoseok said. Jin reached out, snagging his own glass and taking a sip.

“We’ve no reason to poison you, Jimin. You weren’t meant to get involved, but you aren’t in danger.”

“Well your hitmen out there made it pretty clear that wasn’t the case.”

Jin shrugged. “As I said, they’re just… Excitable. They have a lot of justice to seek. Unfortunately, their revenge tends to come at… Inopportune moments. They won’t harm you, not without my approval.”

“What’s so big shot about you?” Jimin asked.

“Hey.” Namjoon’s tone was sharp and warning. Jin smiled still, setting a hand on Namjoon’s thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Relax, baby. He doesn’t know. Taehyung told him nothing. For good reason. He likes you - he clearly wanted you protected… He’ll be disappointed that you ended up here.”

“Easy fix,” Jimin said, “send me home.”

“We can arrange that. Not right away though. The Oysters may still be looking for you and I don’t want to risk sending you, or any scout I send with you, falling into their hands. Please. For your own protection. You saw what they were like.”

Jimin touched his injured shoulder. “I did.”

“Then stay with us tonight at least. We’ll send you home tomorrow. My word is everything in this room.”

“That… Might not be so easy,” Namoon said softly.

Jin glanced over at him. “Why not?”

“I… Lost the pearl.” Namjoon’s voice was soft, his head hung.

“Namjoonie,” Jin whined, putting his hand on his forehead. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No. I was in such a rush. I thought the Oysters were coming and I just took off, I-- I’m sorry, Jin-hyung.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s still on the path. It’s relatively unused except by our troupe. We’ll just go find it. Send Hyuna - she’s got a bloodhound’s nose.”

“The pearl?” Jimin squeaked. “Small… Shiny… Black?”

“Yes.” Jin said hesitantly.

“It’s… Those girls already have it. I had it when they found me.”

“Excellent.”

“Not so much,” Jimin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I sorta… Stepped on it. It’s shattered.”

“No.”

Jimin winced. “Can it be fixed?”

Jin slumped down, burying his face in his hands. He made a small noise of frustration. Namjoon’s shoulders slumped, his entire body seeming to sink in on itself. “We’re fucked,” he mumbled.

Jimin glanced around, panic rising in his throat. “What’s going on? What’s so important about the pearl? Someone, please--”

Hoseok sighed softly. He rose and paced to the other side of the room. He took off his pink cap and donned a black fedora with various colored feathers.

“The pearl is the key to your world, Jimin-ssi. Without it, we can’t get there.”

“Well, can we get another one?”

Hoseok turned back to Jimin. “No. They are in limited supply… And the royals that we are at war with have them. The Rook and the Bishop, the Oysters you met… They’re assassins of the Royal Army. We are their enemies.”

“The Royal Army? The-- Where am I?” Jimin asked softly, almost dreading the answer.

Hoseok smiled, broad and bright as sunshine.

“Oh, rude of us, accept my apologies. Welcome to Wonderland.”

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #vmin #ptrw

6 notes · View notes

dizzypinwheel · 6 years ago

Text

Identify Yourself

Chapter 5: A Lesson in Pragmatism

While we’re at it, nyoom! Have a link to the four previous chapters.

Hank could tally the total number Fowler had suspended an officer on one hand, and not because he was lenient. He commanded the police department with a fierceness that only a former drill instructor could muster, demanding the rank-and-file beneath his supervision to follow his expectations without question. It took little to cross his bullshit quota, and indefinite suspensions came with a questionable expiration date. They tended to last a long while. So color Hank surprised when he was contacted shortly after the start of his suspension, requested to pay a visit to the department. During their curt conversation, Hank noticed Fowler seemed strained. Fowler stayed on the line long enough to pencil in an 11:30 meeting for the following day, disconnecting the call before Hank could raise any questions.

After circling the area for a choice parking spot, Hank parked his death trap and fed the meter. He approached the precinct, feeling a glimmer of pride as he glanced at his watch. It read 10:50 AM. He didn’t expect brownie points or gold stars, but being punctual for anything that didn’t involve a sports stadium counted as a goddamn miracle. It almost made him feel respectable.

He gained a proper sense of understanding of why Fowler seemed so frazzled on the phone when he walked through the front doors and surveyed the reception area. Every android that performed quote unquote menial tasks for the precinct had vanished. The executive order that required all citizens to relinquish their androids to the authorities was probably to blame. He bet they were dismembered scraps of plastic by now, buried in landfills located on the outskirts of the city. It appeared the precinct had yet to hire suitable replacements. Unfortunate rookies were floundering at the front desk, scrambling to process the swelling queue of civilians. The officers looked downright miserable, displeased about performing work they considered beneath their station.

He joined the queue, massaging his temples as he grimaced at the agitated line of visitors that kept tapping their feet or checking how much time had passed on their smartwatches. They were unaccustomed to such incompetence. He felt thankful that he had shown up early, that he wouldn’t have to fret about digging himself in a deeper hole by being late to his appointment. Still, it would have been preferable to have his access credentials, which had been confiscated the moment Fowler suspended him. He would have been in the bullpen by now.

He dug his hands deep into his coat pockets as he waited, turning his attention to the big screen television mounted on the wall on the far right side of the lobby. A couple of smartly dressed anchors were seated behind a glossy desk, and he half-listened to them prattle on about this attempted robbery or that wreck on Chrysler Freeway. His attention was piqued when they began a segment about a situation that held Detroit in its grip: the assassination attempt on the leader of the deviants and the aftershocks that shortly followed.

“Last Friday, we broke a story about the failed assassination attempt that happened near Hart Plaza. The incident is still under investigation. The federal government released a statement Saturday, categorically denying all wrongdoing and promising to prosecute those involved to the fullest extent of the law. The deviant leader, Markus, has been placed into protective custody in an undisclosed location.”

The other anchor took over.

“Following that fateful incident, tensions between human-android relations have become strained, with a growing number of people from both sides demanding justice. There have been rashes of organized protests and acts of civil disobedience across the city, and not just from deviants. Concerned citizens of Detroit from all walks of life have begun to participate in the demonstrations, creating human chains around the perimeters of protest zones to protect their android counterparts. When asked why they would put their personal welfare at risk for a machine, many cited the gruesome moments of police brutality they witnessed during earlier deviant-led marches. Whatever their reason, the human protesters we interviewed seemed united behind a single goal: to do what they can to create a space where androids can protest peacefully, without fear of police or government retaliation.”

At that moment, the newsroom cut to footage of the Detroit State Capitol. The stately, well-kept grounds had been transformed into an organized sit-in, a makeshift camp with laid-out tarps and pitched tents. Protesters huddled together in clusters, taking turns holding cardboard signs or chanting into megaphones. A group of college students had circled the android encampment, locked arm-in-arm to create a protective barrier. Hank found that final image particularly uplifting. God knows the press had been fixated on using the younger generation as a proverbial punching bag, depicted as too self-absorbed to care about anything beyond their own social media bubbles. It was satisfying that they were the ones using their leverage to protect the vulnerable. It was a watershed moment.

At that moment, a tentative voice addressed him like a cautious tap on the shoulder.

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant Anderson?”

Hank tore his eyes from the broadcast and approached the rookie before him, unsure how long he had been transfixed by the stories on screen. Time had blazed past and he was surprised to find himself at the front of the line. He ran his fingers through his gray hair nervously as he studied the man in front of him, reading the name tag affixed to his uniform. Officer Brown. He was rather thin and had a smart buzz cut, perhaps no older than 22. Despite his professional air, he had an anxious demeanor; Hank suspected the young man was uneasy around him.

“What can I help you with?” he asked.

“I’ve got an 11:30 appointment with Captain Fowler and need a clearance badge. Think you can help me out with that?”

“Sure, just a second.”

Officer Brown opened a drawer and took out a laminated pass with a metal clip, handing it to Hank.

“So you can clip this pretty much anywhere, as long as it’s visible.”

“No need to explain,” Hank replied. “I’ll take it from here. Take care, all right?”

“I’ll try,” he muttered.

As Hank left the reception desk, he clipped his visitor pass to his coat breast pocket and strode towards security screening area. He noted a sullen police officer leaning against the wall next to the security scanners, his arms crossed, a resentful replacement for the PM700s that had faithfully stood watch just days ago. When it was his turn, Hank stepped through the motion sensors. They chirped as they registered his pass and the gates granted him access, sliding apart with a quiet hiss. The officer waved him through with an apathetic gesture, barely affording him a single glance. In return, Hank nodded curtly and continued through, opening the door that led into the bullpen.

The bullpen was swarming with activity, the entire room a cacophonous din of unanswered phone calls, clacking keyboards, and work-related chatter. Some officers conversing during a hasty coffee break straightened up as Hank passed by, intentional lowering their voices to a suspicious whisper. It appeared there had been no shortage of gossip in his absence. He did his best to ignore their unwelcomed stares.

As Hank made a beeline for Fowler’s office, he stole a glance at his old workstation, feeling a twinge of regret. Save for a few scuff marks and coffee stains, all signs he had once worked there had been scrubbed away. His malnourished plants and bumper stickers, framed graduation photographs and newspaper clippings -- his personal effects had been tossed out or squirreled away in a box somewhere in his shed. He felt territorial. At least it remained unoccupied. No one had tried to lay claim to his workspace. Yet.

Fowler could be seen in his office, hunched rigidly over his desk and sipping from a mug of steaming coffee. He massaged his temples as he stared at his computer screen, scrolling through what were presumably case files, unaware that Hank had arrived for his appointment. Rather than barging in, Hank rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles, stuffing his hands deep into his coat pockets as he waited. Fowler looked up at the sound of the knock and nodded at him, inviting him to come inside. Hank swallowed, his mouth and throat paper dry.

Hank entered the immaculate office, gingerly shutting the door behind him. He experienced a fleeting moment of hesitation as their eyes met and he shifted his gaze to the potted plants nestled against the wall, hardy little fuckers that required little water. Maintaining eye contact seemed impossible. After decades of working together in the force, Hank had grown accustomed to shooting the shit with Fowler, speaking to him without any filter. But now he just found himself incapable of speech.

Thankfully, Fowler didn’t leave him dangling long. He set down his mug with an agitated sigh and massaged his temples, studying Hank before breaking the silence. And even though his manner of speech was brusque, his voice was gentler than anticipated.

“Damn it, Hank. Sit your ass down.”

Hank forced an unconvincing smile as he complied, seating himself in a squeaky chair made for utility rather than comfort. He sat stiffly, his hands resting in his lap, and focused briefly on a fixed point just behind Fowler, a couple of Tigers baseball caps. It brought to mind a flash of memories: simpler times when they had been a pair of nobodies, friends watching ball games from nosebleed seats with their sons. He resisted the urge to shake his head. Look at them now. He inhaled deeply and turned his attention to Fowler.

Time to cut the crap and get this over with.

“So,” Hank shrugged, gesturing. “I’m here.”

“Yeah…” Fowler replied. “So you are.” His eyes shifted to a tasteless white clock that ticked away on his work desk. “On time, too.”

Hank smiled thinly. “Imagine that.”

“Hey, it’s nice. You should consider making it a habit.”

Hardy har.

Hank pursed his lips, stifling an instinctive urge to retaliate with sarcasm.

A minute spell of silence trickled past as the two men paused awkwardly, each painstaking second punctured by the steadfast ticking of Fowler’s clock. Hank clenched his hands into tight fists, tongue-tied. Astute enough to recognize his reluctance, Fowler took initiative. He leaned forward, threading his fingers together as he set his elbows on his desk.

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate you taking the time to stop by, especially on such short notice.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hank mumbled, waving him off. “Hell, if anything, I should be thanking you. It gave me an excuse to leave the goddamn house.”

“Huh. What, you missing work already? Sounds like you’ve gained a little bit of perspective.”

As prone as Hank was to griping about the bullshit aspects of his line of work, it had given him unselfish goals to fixate on. A silver lining. And when that positive glimmer of his life had been stripped away, he sure didn’t appreciate that was left -- trash bags of take-out boxes and drained liquor bottles, a neglected house haunted with a mausoleum of inescapable memories.

“Suspension sucks, Jeffrey. I hate it.”

“You think I wanted to suspend you? Hank, you forced my hand.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

“Do you, though? Do you really?”

“Yeah,” Hank said softly. “I do.”

Hank faltered and fell silent, his shoulders slumped, drained of anger, of any desire to quarrel. He skirted Fowler’s scrutinizing gaze, feigning interest in a display case lined with row after tidy row of prized military decorations. A lump formed in his throat as he combed through his muddled thoughts, unable to find the right words to say. All he knew was that he felt compelled to apologize.

“Look, I fucked up,” he muttered. “Royally. And that’s on me. No one else.” He scoffed. “Hell, after everything that happened, I’m surprised you didn’t can my ass.” He took a measured breath and locked eyes with Fowler. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”

With that, he held his tongue and steeled himself, expecting Fowler to gloat or admonish him. Yet Fowler remained composed, his tone even, with no hint of malice.

“Apology accepted.”

“Really?” Hank raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Just like that?”

“What, you rather I grill your ass?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“Listen, I’m not going to pull any punches. I’m done butting heads, not when I have so many problems with the precinct.”

“Yeah, I saw that on my way here. Seems like a proper shitstorm.”

Fowler shook his head and scoffed. “That’s what happens when you lose a quarter of your workforce overnight. It’s been a fucking nightmare. I need more manpower.” He paused, giving Hank a pointed look. “Officers with experience.”

Hank failed to conceal his surprise. “Me? I thought I was on your shitlist, that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Come on, use your goddamn head. You think I invited you here to chat over coffee? You know better than that.”

“But you’ve never been this lenient, not for anyone.”

“I’m not being lenient. I’m being pragmatic. This precinct is understaffed and overworked -- we need people.” Fowler stood up and leaned forward, his hands planted on the desk. “Hank, I’m giving you a one-time shot, a chance to redeem yourself. If you’re done being a cop, fine. I won’t stop you. But if you want this, and I mean really want this, I guarantee you’ll walk out that door with your badge, a police detective for the DPD. Either way, I need to know. Will you come back?”

“When you put it that way, I’d be an idiot not to.”

“So it’s settled.”

Fowler sat back down.

“Just so you know, there are rules I expect you to follow. When you are at work, you will conduct yourself as a professional. I expect you to be punctual, I expect you to work without complaint, and I expect you to keep your behavior in check.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

“Good, then it’s settled.”

Fowler opened a drawer and produced a shabby badge, dull from neglect, and silently placed it on his side of the desk. As soon as Hank saw it, he stiffened, his leaden hands rooted to his lap. Fowler regarded him with a stern eye, fingertips grazing the grooves of the engraved shield within. “Consider this badge on loan. Whether or not you get it back is entirely up to you. Act like what you are, a police lieutenant, and it’s yours.” His expression grew stern as he cupped the badge with his right hand, concealing it from sight. “But if you take even one step out of line, I won’t hesitate to fire your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

“Clear as crystal. Consider all bases covered.”

Satisfied, Fowler offered Hank his badge, sliding it across the desk. “Then let’s move on to a different topic.”

Unaware he was holding his breath, Hank reclaimed his badge with a hesitant hand and stuffed it deep into its rightful place, mingling with his car keys and spare change in his right coat pocket. Meanwhile, Fowler was stooped over a secured file drawer, unlocking it with a fingerprint scan. He muttered to himself as he carded through the files, fishing out a thick manila folder stamped with the word CONFIDENTIAL in bold red letters. Tucking the folder under his arm, he rolled his shoulders and turned to face Hank.

“Let’s head down to the evidence room. I have a case for you to look at.”

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. It took me a long time to make this update. I was dealing with a really serious bout of depression and anxiety and it just sucked all the joy out of things I enjoy doing. I’m in a much better place right now and have every intention of finishing this story. I owe @silenceindetroit so much gratitude for her insight. She is a wonderful beta. If you would like to be tagged for future updates, let me know! I’m also a whore for reblogs and comments. If you enjoy what you’ve read, consider doing so. ;)

Tagging the following:

@asunachinadoll // @malanoches // @negotiator-on-site // @spirit--fox // @detectiverichardreed // @nerdiebeauty // @kaylaproductions // @fizzabel // @windyfiend

#connor dbh #hank dbh #detroit become human #dbh fanfiction #dbh

14 notes · View notes

rickstexaschick · 6 years ago

Text

Road Trip

Here’s the full edition of this 3 chapter little off-shoot of “Rick’s Texas Chick”, based on a request from an anon. I’m reposting all three chapters here, as well. This is also posted on A03 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16741282?view_full_work=true

Chapter 1

They had been living together for several weeks when Harley suggested taking her on a motorcycle road trip. Growing up, road trips had been the only kind of vacation her family took — mostly just to visit her grandparents out of state — apart from the odd day trip down to the beach on The Gulf. It was her favorite kind of vacation. Just driving along, enjoying the scenery, talking as a family. Fast food restaurants weren’t as prolific then, so her mother would pack sandwiches, chips, and cokes.

Entertainment was pretty elementary. Video games didn’t exist yet, neither did the internet, of course. So they played the old fashioned car games — making a competition of counting things like cows, horses, windmills, and barns…Played “slug bug” during the day, and “Popeye car,” if they were still on the road after dark. Radio stations were few and far between — usually her dad kept the radio tuned to one of the larger AM news/talk stations which broadcast its signal for hundreds of miles in all directions.

Before he went down to the shop to get his bike, Harley had told her to pack light — which made her roll her eyes, telling him, “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Even so, when he returned to the bedroom a little while later he immediately opened her small duffel bag, which was sitting on the bed. She watched while he wordlessly rooted around in it briefly before he took out a pair of her panties and a t-shirt. He opened her small toiletries bag and extracted her toothpaste, toothbrush, and hairbrush, laying them on top of her underwear and shirt.

“There. Now you’re all packed.”

“But...you took out, like, my basic things.”

“Because, ding dong, that’s basically all you’re taking. I told you to pack light…”

He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black boxer-briefs and another blue t-shirt for himself and tossed them onto her small pile. Then he went into the bathroom and returned with his toothbrush, a hand towel, and the bottle of his shampoo.

She watched, dismayed. Words like “hair conditioner” and “skin moisturizer” were on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she opted for her old standby: sarcasm and irony.

“You know, I don’t know why you’re being all squeamish about it — we could just share a toothbrush… And we’re probably going to sleep naked, anyways, right? So we could just hand wash our underwear and shirts each night, and then we won’t need a change of clothes at all…”

She took the clothes and her toothbrush away from the small pile. “And who needs shampoo when we can just stand in a river and rub ourselves clean with sand and gravel? And then, afterwards, we can sit in the sun, to dry. So, that takes care of having to pack a towel, too…”

She had her hands on the shampoo and towel, when he came up behind her, sliding his hands around her waist.

“You little sassy ass…” He pulled her against him, pressing his lips into the side of her neck, sending tingles of pleasure down her spine.

She giggled, shivering, then turned around in his arms, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. “Well, make up your mind. Am I a sassy ass or a ding dong?”

“If I’m ‘Captain Obvious’ then you’re definitely ‘Sergeant Sassy Ass.’ But I may have to demote you to ‘Corporal Ding Dong’ if you keep this shit up.”

She laughed up at him. He kissed her, briefly turning it into a deeper kiss, holding her up against him and massaging her ass before reluctantly pulling away.

“Come on. We need to hit the road if we’re gonna get where I want to be before sundown.”

He dug around in the back of the closet before emerging with a worn, black leather jacket, which was much too big for her.

“Rick’s,” was he laconic reply to the unspoken question on her face.

The leather was soft and it did indeed smell of Rick. She slipped it on and pulled it around herself and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes with a look of pleasure. Harley watched her with a small smile.

Rick’s scent had that effect on him, too.

He refused to tell her where they were going. He did make her wear a helmet, donning one himself, as well. He had to adjust the straps and use her spare T-shirt as packing to make it fit her small head. The helmet must be Rick’s, too, she mused silently, looking up at Harley’s face as he adjusted the straps under her chin and checked the helmet’s fit.

She found a pair of gloves in one of the pockets of Rick’s jacket, stuffed them back in. In the other pocket was a small baggie with what looked like a couple of joints. Harley was busy loading their remaining things into the two saddle bags, so she just put the baggie back in the pocket without saying anything.

She’d smoked pot only a handful of times in her life — could literally count the number of times on one hand. Almost of all them were back when she was in college. After that, there was always the fear of surprise drug testing by her employers, and she didn’t want to risk losing her job or, worse, her nursing license.

But now, who knew when she’d be going back to work? So...fuck it. Maybe they could smoke these on this trip. She couldn’t tell how old the joints were. Did pot go bad? She had no idea… She wondered when was the last time Rick had worn the jacket. Fingering the baggie inside the pocket absentmindedly, she thought about all the facets of Rick’s and Harley’s relationship that she didn’t know about, and wondered when she’d have the courage to ask more questions...

“Hey. Space Cadet. Are you ready?” Harley had finished loading the saddle bags and was watching her as her mind wandered off to God-knows-where.

She nodded and smiled up at him, her head swamped by Rick’s helmet. Harley checked the fit one more time, then, satisfied, he lifted her onto the motorcycle’s pillion seat.

“You know,” she said to him as he mounted in front of her, “I really do think I could manage to get up here on my own…”

“Sure you could, honey. With a good running start and a pole…” He switched on the ignition then kick-started the engine with a powerful thrust of his body, before settling back down in the seat.

Since he wouldn’t be able to hear her retort over the sound of the engine, she just reached under his jacket and gave him a little pinch in his side as her response, then she slid her hands around his waist and folded them across his flat stomach. She pulled herself up against him snuggly. In reply, he reached down and squeezed one of her hands with a lingering caress, then they set off.

Chapter 2

They’d been riding north for a little over an hour when Harley noticed the storm clouds forming over the mountain range.

Well, fuck, he thought.

It wasn’t supposed to rain for the next few days, although mountains were notorious for creating their own weather. They still had a couple more hours to go before they’d get to their destination. Clearly the storm was going to cross their path along the way.

He scanned his memory for any towns or rest stops in between, where they could hole up while the storm passed. The nearest place he could think of was a truck stop in a small town, twenty miles away...

Ten minutes later they crossed over a mountain pass and were descending a winding road into a long, narrow valley when the rain overtook them, falling lightly at first, but he could tell that it would soon become a downpour. Fuck. Up ahead he saw the overpass of a small road crossing over the highway, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was better than nothing. And it would have to do.

They pulled underneath the protection of the overpass just as the rain really started to come down. He parked the bike beyond the shoulder, to keep them away from the spray of passing vehicles, then rolled it backwards onto its kickstand. She pulled her helmet off, laughing.

“Woo, doggie! You sure know how to show a girl a good time! What’s next? A flat tire?”

He scowled at her as he got off the bike. “Bite your tongue — or better yet, let me do it for you.”

Harley never joked about shit happening when he was on the road — it just invited all sorts of bad karma, as far as he was concerned. Rick always laughed at him and his penchant for being superstitious.

But he did have some good data points. Based on past personal experience, unfortunately...

She couldn’t know that, of course…

He took her helmet from her, hooking the straps back together and using them to hang the helmet from one side of the handlebars. Then he did the same with his, hanging it from the other side. He sat back down on the seat, facing her. She was shaking her hair out, combing her fingers through it. He took her hands in his.

“D-Don’t make jokes like that, honey.” He searched her eyes, his expression serious.

“Oh...OK. I’m sorry...” The smile melted off her lips when she caught his dark mood, and she felt sincerely sorry. And chastised. Then she realized how dumb she’d been.

It was the same as making a comment about how quiet things were on the hospital unit during the shift — as soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to take them back, knowing you’d just asked for something bad to go down. She didn’t know a single nurse or doctor who wasn’t superstitious about that.

“S’ok, honey. Just — it’s just a little rule I have…” He reached down below her leg and unzipped the saddle bag, taking out a flask.

She watched him take a very large drink, then he handed it to her, his expression still dark and remote. She took the flask from him and drank a small sip, desperately searching her mind for a way to recover the happy mood from earlier.

“So, how long do you think this rain will last?” She shivered a little, unintentionally. Her torso was toasty and dry, thanks to Rick’s jacket. But her jeans were damp. Soaked through, actually. Fortunately her feet were fairly dry inside her boots.

“Hard to say, being stuck down in this valley.” He stuffed the flask into an outer pocket of his jacket and pulled her down the pillion seat into him, resting his hands on her waist. “We’ll just have to wait it out.” He still looked a little grumpy.

“That’s ok. I’m happy being here with you.” She smiled up at him, reaching up to brush his hair off his face. “I’ve got my love to keep me warm.” She sang the last sentence to the tune of the old 1930s song by the same name.

He smiled down at her, his mood lifting a little. “Well, look who can carry a tune...”

She smiled a little coquettishly. “Maybe I could have been one of your back-up singers…”

He gave a small laugh. “Hardly.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t have been good enough for The Great Motherfuckers?” She leaned away from him, a look of mock outrage on her face.

“No, honey,” he laughed, “I just meant that you would have been about ten when we were touring…”

She didn’t think he had the age difference right, but at least he was smiling and laughing again. And that’s all that mattered.

She leaned into him, slipping her arms around his waist, underneath his jacket. She wriggled herself closer until she was up against his chest and buried her face in the warmth of his shirt, sighing with contentment. His hands slid down around her butt, pulling her hips in closer and lifting her thighs so that they draped over his and she was basically sitting on his lap. He kissed the top of her head and held her close, his large, warm hands cupping and caressing her ass.

The rain intensified and it was quite dark underneath the overpass. There wasn’t any traffic to speak of. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a slow, rolling boom of thunder which traveled across the valley, echoing loudly in the cavernous space around them as it moved overhead.

“This could be really fun and romantic…” She trailed off, not knowing what to say next.

“If we weren’t out in the middle of it, you mean?” He tipped her chin up to him, his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “We’re still safe and dry, hon. What else do you need?”

A nice warm bed, some candles, and a bottle of —

He interrupted her train of thought with a kiss which quickly deepened, slipping his tongue into her mouth, teasing against hers. He reached up and held her face with one hand while he kissed and tongued her mouth, until she was quivering and sighing in his arms.

“Oh, Rick…” She wanted him to drop his lips lower and nip and suck…As if he were reading her mind, he slipped his free hand underneath her shirt and bra to pinch and roll her nipples, which had already tightened into stiff peaks. His other hand slid around the back of her head and he buried his fingers in her hair, gripping her scalp while he continued kissing her.

She clutched his shirt, moaning. He wanted to ravage her mouth, but since they were limited to what they could do, he took his time and held her close while he gave her long, sweet, soft kisses that made her melt in his arms. Sitting together on the bike in the dim shadows of the overpass, they made out like they were teenagers in the backseat of a car.

He kissed her until her lips were swollen, then he trailed his mouth down her neck and settled in that ultra sensitive spot just at the base of her jaw. She shivered, giggling, and he nipped her lightly in response. He breathed into her ear.

“God, I wanna make love to you…”

In reply, she rubbed her crotch against his, making him groan and he pulled her down onto him. They kissed and ground against each other, panting and moaning into each other’s mouth. He kissed down her neck, biting and sucking her skin, leaving a trail of light red marks that made her shiver and sigh. He was on the verge of throwing caution to the wind and fucking her up against the bike when a pickup truck drove by, honking loud and long.

The vehicular equivalent of being told to “get a room, assholes,” she thought to herself, bitterly.

“Jealous asshole,” muttered Harley.

“At least he didn’t splash us as he drove by,” she said. There was a time when she would have been too afraid to make out in public like this, it would have embarrassed the crap out of her, but being with Rick and now Harley, with their highly active libidos and “don’t give a fuck” attitudes, she was slowly turning around.

“The rain’s mostly stopped at any rate. What say we get started? You ok with a little roadspray?”

“Sure! My jeans are still wet, anyway. What’s a little more? How much further do we have to go?”

“A bit,” he answered, still refusing to give her any idea of where they were going. He reseated himself, facing front on the bike. Soon they were on their way again. The lightness of the rain and their speed kept them from getting too wet. The lack of traffic also helped. They were out of the rain by the time they got to the end of the valley. It would have been chilly sitting in the wind with her wet jeans, but Rick’s jacket kept her warm and the sun soon dried their clothes.

The sun was setting behind the mountains when they exited the highway onto a narrow blacktopped forest road. She just managed to catch the first part of the street sign: Ketchican. She wondered if it was this dimension’s equivalent of a Native American tribal name. It certainly sounded like it could have been one in her dimension.

The road wound slowly up the side of the heavily forested mountain, sometimes hugging uncomfortably close to the edge. She closed her eyes a few times to avoid looking at the drop-off, and held onto Harley more tightly. Eventually, thankfully, they pulled off the road into a small, gravel parking lot with a log cabin style building. A wooden sign hung from the eaves of the front porch.

Ketchican Hot Springs.

Hmmmm, she thought, this sounds like fun!

“Come on.” Harley got off and removed his helmet, then waited for her to get off the bike. She’d allowed as how she could do it without any help, so here was her chance to prove it... Her feet were so far above the ground that she almost fell off while sliding off the seat, barely catching herself in time. He smirked and coughed like he was clearing his throat in a very poor show of hiding his laugh. She scowled up at him, taking off her helmet.

“Don’t you say a word…” She glared at him.

He just smiled knowingly, shaking his head while he hung their helmets on the handlebars. Taking her hand and squeezing it, he led her up the steps of the cabin.

Chapter 3

The interior of the cabin was part office, part living space. It was basically a front desk, like a check-in desk at a motel, with the area behind it converted into a private den, complete with tv, an easy chair turned to face the tv, and a pot-bellied wood burning stove with a small cooking surface on top. The cabin smelled like greasy, old food, and she immediately remembered her mother’s advice to her about staying in hotels or motels with lobbies that smelled of old, cooked food.

“Don’t.”

An elderly gentleman got up somewhat slowly from the depths of the easy chair, disturbing a large orange tabby cat which had been sleeping in his lap.

“Hey, Pete,” began Harley.

The man put on a pair of glasses and suspiciously peered at them for a moment, then his eyes brightened with recognition.

“Harley! Well, I’ll be… Sandra told me that you’d called earlier this week. She didn’t tell me you were headed up here, though.”

“Yeah, Pete. I told her not to tell you. Wanted to keep it a surprise. She should have the cabin ready for us, though. Reservation’s under Katherine Sanchez.”

She'd only been half-listening to the two men talking while she looked around, inspecting the cabin as unobtrusively as possible. Her mother’s advice was still echoing in her head, making her feel a little leery about staying there. But when she heard her middle name coupled with “Sanchez” her breath caught in her lungs and a huge wave of mixed emotions shot through her. Her heart started racing, making her lightheaded. Her mouth dropped open and she made a small sound of surprise as she reached out and grasped the counter to steady herself.

She’d resumed her maiden name long before the divorce with Ricardo was final, hoping to put that whole sordid chapter of her married life well behind her. She never expected to hear, much less go by, her married name again.

She’d completely forgotten that it was Rick and Harley’s last name, too.

Harley silently wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she sagged into him slightly.

“You okay, young lady?” Pete peered down at her through his glasses, his face full of fatherly concern. She smiled at him weakly.

“We’ve had a long ride, got delayed by the weather. You think we could head on up to our cabin, Pete? Sandra said she’d give me the usual one and have it ready.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Right away, Harley. Just sign the ledger, here, while I get your key for you…”

Harley completed the registration for their cabin and took the key from Pete. He steered her out of the cabin and onto the porch. It was full dark out now, the parking lot lit by the orange glow of a single sodium light off to the side.

“You ok, Kat? What — what happened in there?” He had walked a few steps ahead of her down off the porch then turned around to look at her so that they were a little closer to eye level.

She had a far-off look in her eyes and looked pale and vulnerable in the orange lighting.

“Yeah,” with an effort she put a smile on her face and tried to snap out of it. “I’m just still not used to going by that name.”

Which was true in both the case of her middle name and with ‘Sanchez’, but with luck he wouldn’t ask her to elaborate. She was sure he hadn’t realized the effect it may have on her. Maybe he thought she’d like the idea of them being presented as a couple. A married couple. The thought did sound nice, and made her smile more reassuringly at him.

He studied her for a moment then took her hand. It was cold and he squeezed it. “Come on, hon, you’ll like this…”

They rode the bike about a quarter mile further up the road before pulling into a small clearing. The bike’s headlight swung around the trees and illuminated a log cabin nestled in the forest, its small porch light turned on in invitation. Low lights shone from behind the two curtained windows flanking the front door. Once inside they were greeted by a charming, cozy scene.

A fire crackled away in the large fireplace which took up one wall. Across the room on the opposite wall was a large rustic style wood-framed bed covered in a “wedding ring” design quilt. The lamp standing on the bedside table was switched on, providing additional soft lighting. A sofa, coffee table, small recliner, and a floor lamp occupied the space in between. Along the back wall was a small galley kitchen, with a bar style counter separating it from the rest of the cabin.

“Wow,” was all she could muster.

He grinned. He knew she would like it. This place was special to him. He and Rick had been coming here together quite often over the years. He would never tell her that, of course. Not right away, at least.

She was the only other person he’s brought there.

“They call this the Honeymoon Cabin…”

She threw a look at him, blushing. He just winked at her in reply.

She wanted to pee and freshen up, and he said he’d unload their things in the meantime. Behind the closed bathroom door, the running water camouflaged the sounds from the den. She couldn’t hear the distinctive whirring or see the flash of green light while she washed the road off of her face and hands. When she came out she saw her duffel bag sitting on the bed and a large cardboard box was on the kitchen counter. Harley was partially blocked from view by the open refrigerator door as he put things inside. The light from the refrigerator illuminated him with a soft glow.

“What...When did you...How…”. She’d stopped in her tracks.

He turned and looked at her, grinning. “You forgot ‘who’, ‘why’ and ‘where’…”. He shut the refrigerator and strolled over to her and took her in his arms. He loved the look of surprise and delight on her face. And at how well his little joke had pulled off. She was so fun to tease.

“I-I knew you wanted all that stuff. I had more shit, too. Plus some food and booze. There’s no way to pack all that on the bike. So...I portalled back and got it.”

She grinned at him. It’s something Rick would have done, for sure, but Harley didn’t use his portal gun as much. At least, not in front of her. Rick, she was certain, would just portal back and forth from the house to the shop, instead of walking back and forth through the field, like Harley did. Same as how he portalled back and forth across the street between their two houses. She wouldn’t say he was lazy. More like, Rick doing what he thought was more efficient.

Or more Rick-like.

She put away the rest of the food while Harley fixed them drinks inside a couple of heavy duty plastic tumblers.

“So, the owner knows you, and I get the feeling that you’ve come here before. A lot…” She didn’t know how to go on, ask the questions she wanted to ask. She kept her head in the refrigerator, pretending to sort and organize the food, in an effort to avoid looking at him.

“Uh-huh.” He waited for her to continue, knowing where this was going. He kept his face blank and leaned against the counter, sipping his whiskey while he watched her.

“And you said that this was the...ummm...Honeymoon Cabin…”

“Yeah…” Now he wanted to grin at her but managed to suppress it.

She straightened up and looked at him. “Well, have you been on a lot of honeymoons, or what?”

“Nope.” He paused and took a sip of whiskey, still keeping his face neutral. “Rick and I have been coming here a lot over the years, though.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew wide and her voice was small. Her face immediately turned cherry red with embarrassment before she dove back into the refrigerator. She’d completely forgotten about that. Them.

“You gonna just hide in the fridge all night now?” He walked over to her with her drink and set it down on top of the refrigerator. “Honey, you’re just gonna have to accept -- face the fact of Rick’s and my relationship sooner or later…” He pulled her away from the refrigerator and shut the door, then turned her to face him while he held her hands.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I know...I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Well what, then?” He tried to tip her chin up to look at him but she turned her face aside.

“I thought you were going to say that you’ve come here on honeymoons, or...or had been here a lot in the past, with other women, or something…” Finally she looked up at him. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and she blinked to keep them back.

He huffed out a small laugh. “You’re the only other person I’ve brought here, come here with. Just you and Rick. OK?” He gave her a brief hug of reassurance, then handed her drink to her. “Drink up. You look like you need it.”

She took several large sips along with some calming breaths. Knowing that he’d just been coming here with Rick wasn’t so bad. In fact, it made her feel a whole lot better. She watched him silently while he took off his jacket then sat down on the bed and took off his boots.

“Are you getting ready for bed?” It was still early. Too early to go to sleep, at least, she thought.

“No. I’m gonna take you to the hot springs outside and we’re gonna sit and soak. Are you trying to get yourself demoted again?” He stripped his clothes off, leaving them in a heap on the floor and straightened up, looking at her, smirking. “Well, what are you waiting for? Pete to come give you an invitation?”

“But...I don’t have a bathing suit. I don’t want to sit in front of a bunch of strangers butt naked!”

“First of all, it’s dark out and we’re out in the middle of the woods, and in case you didn’t notice, Corporal Ding Dong, this place ain’t exactly a beehive of activity. And, secondly, this cabin has its own private hot spring and pool. That’s why your birthday suit will be juuust fine.” He bent down and picked up his clothes and dropped them on the foot of the bed.

He went into her duffle bag and took out a pair of her flip flops, the ones she liked to wear around the house, to keep her bare feet off the cold floor. He pulled out a pair of men’s old, leather flip flop-style sandals which she’d never seen him wear. He must have put both shoes in the bag before he portalled back with it. She didn’t think he was gone that long -- or that she was in the bathroom that long, whichever. He tossed both pairs of shoes onto the floor and started to step into his but paused when he realized she hadn’t moved.

“You gonna stand there all night, or were you wanting some help gettin’ your clothes off?”

He smirked at her, then it changed to a leering grin and his eyes darkened. They did have some unfinished business from their hiatus beneath the underpass, during the storm. He moved towards her, the idea of stripping her down and fucking her, first, suddenly held greater appeal to him at that moment. He put his hands on her waist and slid his fingers underneath the waistband of her jeans and panties, sending tingles up and down her spine. He undid the button of her jeans and opened the zipper, kissing her all the while, then he pushed her jeans and panties down to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she giggled, hanging onto his shoulders.

“Need to give your birthday suit a test drive…” Was all he whispered in her ear before he pulled her top over her head, then undid her bra and slipped it off her arms, dropping everything to the floor. His voice had become deep and rough with need.

His lips returned to her mouth and he kissed her hungrily, all the pent up sexual tension and desire from before was now returning with full force. Her giggles changed to sighs and moans. His cock was rock hard and erect between them and she reached down and started stroking it. He groaned and lifted her up and laid her on the bed, crawling on top of her, grinding himself against her belly while pushing her further up the bed towards the pillows.

“God, you make me horny as fuck, baby girl,” he growled into her ear. “I just want to drive myself into you and screw your brains out until you scream.”

“Then why don’t you?” she said breathlessly, looking up at him and getting more and more excited as he loomed over her. The whiskey had made her tipsy and bold.

She reached down and guided his head so that it was up against her entrance. Then before he could say or do anything she wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed him into her while she pulled his hips in close with her legs.

As if his body was on auto-pilot, he lost all self-control as soon as he felt her warm, slick folds around him. With one hard thrust he drove himself all the way inside her, closing his eyes and groaning with pleasure at the feel of her tight walls along his length. For whatever reason, maybe it was because they hadn’t done any of their usual foreplay, but her sex wasn’t ready for him, and she gasped loudly, crying out in shock and pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and tears of pain leaked out from the corners. She shrank away from him on the bed, her fingers clawing into his arms and back on their own volition as she struggled to hold back whimpers of pain.

His eyes popped open when he heard her cry out, realizing her distress, and he held still inside her.

“Sshhh, baby. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

He murmured softly in her ear, kissing the tears on her cheeks as he pushed himself off her, supporting his weight on his elbows, and gathered her in his arms. He held her close, inwardly cursing himself for acting like an inexperienced kid without any self-control and forcing himself into her.

“You weren’t ready for me. I’m sorry, baby girl... I’m sorry...I’ll make this good for you, I promise…I’ll take care of you...Just relax...Ssshhhh...Baby girl, ssshhh...”

He continued to soothe and whisper to her while he kissed her cheeks, her eyes, then moved to her lips. Gradually she began to relax in his arms as he kissed and tongued her mouth, slow and soft. He deepened his kiss and flexed his cock slightly. She sighed, mewling, and her fingers relaxed their death grip. He flexed his cock inside her again, this time rolling his hips slightly, and she moaned into his mouth. It hitched into a whimper, now one of pleasure, when he flexed his cock inside her again.

He pulled his mouth away and whispered in her ear. “I would never hurt you, honey, you know that, right? I love you too much…I love you, so much...” They both knew he was talking about more than just sex...

A sob hitched in her throat and she tightened her hold on him, this time in a hug, no claws of pain. Slowly, he began to rock against her, his pelvis rubbing up against her clit. She moaned into his mouth as he ground against her, gently rolling his hips. Her voice rose in pitch as her orgasm grew close and he increased the pressure against her clit, steadily rocking against her. Her body shuddered and she whimpered and made small mewls of pleasure. He held her tight while her orgasm washed over her in waves and she spasmed around his cock.

“That’s it, baby girl. That’s my sweet girl…. Now you’re ready for me…”

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her softly and sucking on her skin, whispering encouragement as he slowly stroked himself in and out, going deeper each time and gradually built up his rhythm.

“Wait, stop…” she gasped in his ear.

“What? What’s wrong, honey? Am I hurting you?” With great effort he forced himself to stop moving inside her. Now he was practically panting with his sexual needs as he fought to hold himself back. He looked down at her.

“I...I still want you to...to…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it, but it was written on her face, in her eyes.

He grinned down at her. “You want what, honey?” He moved inside her, slow and deep, rolling his hips.

She moaned and closed her eyes. He did it again, sliding one arm up behind her neck for better purchase and to hold her in place. He leaned down and kissed her, sliding his tongue over hers while he slowly drove himself in and out of her hot, wet folds. She groaned into his mouth, clenching herself around him. Every beat of his heart sent a thrumming jolt straight into his aching cock. He dropped his head down into the pillow, breathing hard with the effort to go slowly. Then she whispered in his ear.

“Make me...make me scream, Papi.”

“Fuck, baby…” It came out as a near-strangled groan.

“Do it. Just like you said…. Just screw me senseless and don’t stop until you make me scream…”

“Christ…”. He still hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“Please, just fuck me and make me scream. Don’t stop until you’re done.” She squeezed around him as hard as she could and lifted her hips up against him to make her point.

He sat up and moved away from her, wincing as he pulled himself out. “Come — come here, baby girl…”

He moved off the bed and motioned to her to come closer to him. She scooted down to the edge of the bed, smiling with anticipation and spreading her legs. His breath hitched at the sight and his cock jumped. He slowly stroked himself, precum dripping over his hand, as he stood there looking down at her.

“Roll over, baby, on your knees for me…”

Suddenly, unwanted images of her ex flashed into her mind, completely out of the blue. Her smile faltered slightly and a trace of fear showed in her eyes.

“I won’t hurt you, baby…. Come on.”

He leaned down and kissed her, slid his hand up to gently run his fingers between her slick folds and slowly stroked in and out while his thumb circled on her clit. She mewled into his mouth and spasmed around his fingers.

“Christ, honey…”. His voice was hoarse with restrained need. His rock hard cock throbbed and had turned deep red, the head almost purple, and the veins ran prominently down the shaft. He was going to have a severe case of blue balls at this rate.

Maybe it was the almost desperate tone in his voice, or the fact that she trusted him, utterly and completely. She cast aside her nervousness and rolled over and got on her hands and knees, spreading her thighs wide and presenting herself to him.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking gorgeous…”

He cupped her ass with one large hand, stroking it then sliding his hand down her cheek and softly caressing her, before slipping two fingers inside her and slowly stroking in and out. He reached forward with his other hand, running it up her back to her shoulders.

“Down in front…” He whispered hoarsely, as he gently pushed her shoulders down until she was resting on her forearms.

He stepped forward and rubbed the head of his cock against her wet opening. She trembled in anticipation. Then she felt his velvety soft head press against her slick folds and he slowly pushed himself in. He was hot and hard and she dropped her head, moaning softly.

“OK, baby girl?”

He slowly moved in and out with shallow thrusts of his hard cock, waiting for her to protest or pull away. She nodded her head and moaned again while she pushed herself against him and squeezed her walls around him. That was all the response he needed. He took a firm hold of her hips and started thrusting in and out, deep and slow. The angle had his hot cock immediately stroking across her sensitive bundle of nerves and she cried out with pleasure. He drove deeper and harder, gripping her firmly and pulling her against him with each thrust of his hips.

“You like that, honey? You like my cock nice and deep in you like this?”

She couldn’t answer him. Instead she dropped her head down between her arms onto the bed and moaned and sobbed. The sounds came out of her of their own volition. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t hold any of it back. It felt so good, what he was doing to her. As he picked up his rhythm, driving deeper into her with each thrust, her moans became keening wails that went on and on, occasionally punctuated by a sob whenever he thrust into her particularly deep and hard. It was like her body had taken control of her and was now operating on instinct and the primal need for pure sexual pleasure. Her back was arched, every muscle in her body growing taut as her orgasm built. She couldn’t even move against him, she was almost paralyzed with how good he felt, as his hot cock thrust deep and hard into her.

She felt the nerves in her body concentrating down in the depths of her belly, tensing up like a tightly coiled spring. Then they suddenly exploded outward, sending wave after wave of the most intense feelings of sexual pleasure she’d ever had. She did scream. She wailed and cried out Harley’s name. Hot liquid gushed out of her, coating his cock and pelvis, and her walls gripped his cock with tight spasms. Her orgasm went on and on as he continued to pound into her, chasing his own release.

His thrusts became choppy and his breathing more harsh. Then with a hoarse cry he came, calling her name and cursing. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her belly to hold her more tightly as he thrust one last time inside her then stayed there. His cock throbbed as he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside her. He continued to hold her up against him as his body shuddered with one of the most intense orgams he’d had in a long time. She keened and sobbed beneath him, shaking as another orgasm rippled through her body, making her tremble in his arms.

He pulled out of her then laid down on the bed next to her, barely able to keep himself from actually collapsing on top of her. He pulled her into his arms.

“Oh my fucking God…” She was limp as a noodle and sweaty and breathless. Her thighs were slick with his cum and her juices and she felt more seeping out of her. “I don’t want to mess up this nice quilt…” She tried to push herself up, but Harley tightened his hold on her.

“It’s...It’s ok, honey. Don’t worry about it. They don’t call this the Honeymoon Cabin for nothing. It’ll get washed…”

Harley eventually did move them all the way to the top of the bed where the pillows were. He pulled the covers back and she crawled underneath them gratefully. The cool, smooth sheets felt good against her skin. He climbed in next to her and gathered her into his arms, then he pulled the covers over them.

“What about the hot springs?” She asked him sleepily.

“They can wait. They’re not goin’ anywhere.” He mumbled his reply. He was barely conscious and was ready to take a nice long nap with her in his arms. He didn’t want to get up, and he didn’t want her to leave his side.

They both fell asleep, but not for long. Practically every light in the cabin had been left on and it penetrated Harley’s brain. He blinked his eyes open and stretched slightly, feeling relaxed and refreshed. She lay draped across him, an unmoving warm body cuddled up against his. Her head was cradled on his chest, one hand curled around his waist and her leg across his muscled thigh. She always seemed to cling to him in her sleep, as if her subconscious was on alert for some hidden danger and needed him beside her while she let her defenses down in order to sleep.

“Wake up, love…”. He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. She mumbled and stirred briefly before settling back against him with a soft sigh. He slid out from beneath her, pushing the covers off them both of them. The chilly air would help wake her up.

“Man…” she made a whining grumble as she blindly reached down for the blankets while keeping her eyes squeezed shut against the lights.

He smirked down at her and smacked her lightly on her ass, making her sit upright, gasping and blinking irritably.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go take a soak. You’ll love it, I promise.” He pulled the sheets and blankets down to the bottom of the bed as a deterrent to her going back to sleep, then he went into the bathroom to take a leak.

She came in while he was finishing up and wordlessly stepped into the bathtub, pulling the curtain around and turning on the water.

“You’re taking a shower before you go soak?”

“I’m washing off all our sex...stuff,” she called out to him. “So it won’t go in the water. Haven’t you ever heard of hot tub folliculitis?”

He pushed the curtain aside and reached down and turned off the water. “You’re a prime example of too much knowledge isn’t always a good thing. Come on.” He held his hand out to her so she could step out, then handed her a large folded bath towel.

They slipped into their shoes and he handed her drink to her, then grabbed a flashlight from a cabinet and his own drink. Clutching the towel and her drink, she followed him out the door leading off the kitchen. He led her down a narrow path that went through the woods and down the mountain. The path had steps made of old timbers, worn smooth by the weather and years of foot traffic. A handrail made of rough hewn fence rails followed it down.

It was intriguing, walking down the mountain path in the dark with just Harley’s flashlight for light. All her other senses were heightened to make up for it, and she could hear and smell the springs before they came upon them. The faint but familiar scent of sulfur wafted up through the trees. She could even feel the damp heat in the air as it was born up on the wind currents. But the roiling and churning sound of water echoing up to them sounded much louder than any hot springs she’d visited before. She wasn’t sure what to expect.

Finally they turned a corner around a low, rocky outcrop and Harley’s flashlight shone upon a small pool nestled partly inside a shallow cave. A pile of rocks at the back covered the source of the spring. The water bubbled out over and through the rocks with occasional hissing bursts of steam which reverberated noisily off the walls of the cave, amplifying them, creating the sounds she’d heard.

“This way, hon, watch your feet.” He aimed the flashlight along the edge of the pool, a natural depression in the rocks surrounded by a low wall of flat stones. “They damned up this spring years ago, turned it into a pool. The bottom’s all sand. Step down in it.” He went in first then turned around and helped her step in where small boulders were laid out like steps, leading down into the water.

The water was hot, but not too hot. The night air was chilly, so this was nice. There were large, flat rocks placed on the bottom along the wall, for them to sit on. He guided her over to where a couple of large, flat rocks placed on the bottom were at a good height for the two of them to sit. The water was still a little high on her, coming just above her shoulders.

Soon they were settled in, drinking their whiskeys. He put his arm around her and she nestled into him, sighing with contentment. It had been a long day, and while riding the motorcycle was fun, she wasn’t used to being on it for such a long stretch of time. Her body was sore and tired from hours of sitting upright, her legs straddling the seat.

“Not too bad, huh?” He kissed her cheek. She hummed in response, her eyes closed.

“I’m not carrying your ass back up that trail, just so you know.”

“M’kay.”

In the end he did carry her back, piggy-back style, with the towel draped over her while she clutched the two empty tumblers in one hand and had the other arm wrapped around his shoulder. She lost a flip flop along the way but he refused to stop and look for it. When they got to the cabin he dumped her down on the bed then took the glasses and towel from her.

“Get under the covers, love. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Without arguing, she pulled everything back up to the pillows and buried herself beneath them. If she was a limp noodle before, now she was completely boneless. Harley moved quietly around the cabin, closing things up for the night. He banked up the fire with a few pieces of the split hardwood logs, then turned off all the lights before finally climbing into bed beside her. She moved towards him, draping herself across his body almost exactly like before.

“Thank you, Papi. This was a wonderful day. I love you…and...I’m not a ding dong...” Her words were drowsy and quiet, softly spoken into his chest.

“I know you’re not, honey. And I love you, too, Kat…”. He kissed her head, then slowly stroked her back as she drifted off to sleep.

On the other side of the cabin the fire had taken purchase of the fresh logs, and now it crackled and popped quietly with new life, sending soft flickers of light onto the walls and ceiling. He shifted slightly, turning partially onto his side and holding her against his chest while slipping one long thigh between hers. Then he fell into a deep sleep.

***********

“Kn- Knew I’d find you two here…”

To be continued in Rick’s Texas Chick...

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick and reader #OC Rick #Rick's Texas Chick

13 notes · View notes

mangsluts · 7 years ago

Text

Not what you wanted; What you needed

Kim Himchan Smut

Rated: M

Description: For a year you’ve tried to seduce your beautiful English professor, Mr Bang, and you finally think you’ve broken his walls to be with him, but everything is not what it seems.....

Contains: cursing, graphic sex, oral sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bang. Fucking. Yongguk.

The English professor that had all the girls swooning, including you of course. It was no secret that you had a crush on him, always showing up to class in your sluttiest outfits, sitting at the very front of the classroom, purposely crossing and uncrossing your legs while wearing a skirt in front of him. Staying after class to “get help” for material you “didn’t understand” and many more stunts to get his attention. Today was just another day in the conquest of trying to get in his pants. You walked to class idly with your best friend Kaycee, wearing a short leather skirt paired with a sunflower top that was barely a top, it was more like a bra. “Daaaamnnnn girl, you trying to get fucked today? Cause if he doesn’t, I will.” Kaycee said playfully, smacking your butt as you walked into the empty classroom. You two were always first of course, your reasons being obvious, and Kaycee just liked to watch the teacher become frustrated, giving you pointers on how to make him really go crazy. “I’ve been trying like, all semester, so we’ll see.” You said laughing as you slid into a seat in the front row, while Kaycee started drinking her frappe next to you.

“Good morning girls” That luscious dark voice called out from the front of the classroom as Yongguk walked out from his office and took his place at the desk in front of the projector, dropping his graded papers on it, then rubbed his face, obviously tired. The stack of papers was almost as tall as him, and there was still more ungraded papers on the opposite side of his desk. “Mr Kim, could you start working on these... “ he checked his watch “there’s about thirty minutes until class starts, I’m sure you could finish some of it.”

Both of you looked at each other at the mention of a “Mr. Kim” you’d never heard before. As if on cue, a young man dressed in a black button up shirt and matching pants emerged from Yongguks office, his sleeves rolled up to expose his upper arms. “Yes sir.” He said softly. He had such a beautifully feminine yet hard face at the same time, his almond eyes glancing up to meet yours. You blushed and looked away. “Who’s this, Mr Bang?” Kaycee said flirtatiously, eyeing the man up and down, then nudging you with her elbow.

“Ah this... this is Kim Himchan. He’s my new student teacher. Planning to be an English major like myself.” He said with pride and a gummy smile with Himchan returned, a strand of his black hair falling to his eyes. “Pleasure to meet both of you.” He said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he grabbed the papers and began grading at his own desk by the front as well.

Class went by as usual, you stared at Yongguk, giving him the “fuck me eyes”, licked your lips, acted very interested in the material he was teaching. You were doing everything you could, and you could see him smiling at you every once in a while. After he was finished with his lecture, he gave everyone some time to work on their essay they’d be turning in next week. Because you liked to impress him, you started working on it eagerly, wanting to do your best. Suddenly, your phone lit up.

“Iphone would like to share a note with you” on airdrop. You looked around the room, thinking maybe it was Kaycee sharing a meme with you, but she was busy reading a Jhope smut. Okay, so it wasn’t her. Your heart fluttering a little, you noticed Yongguk was sitting at his desk, gingerly typing on his.... holy shit. iPhone. Giddily you accepted the note and it popped up in your own notes.

“After class. Office. Meet me.” That’s all it said.

Finally! All your hard work paid off. You spent the rest of class counting minutes until class got out. Finally the bell rang, and everyone hurried out of the classroom. “You coming?” Kaycee said, noticing you were straying behind. You gave one last look to the classroom and followed your friend out. “Look at this.” You said and eagerly showed her the note.

“No shit!” She said, eyes wide. “It’s finally happening! You go get that!” She said, holding your shoulder, fighting back tears. “My baby’s growing up.” She fake wiped a tear away and basically shooed you away so you’d go back to the classroom. “I’ll be waiting” she winked

You walked back into the empty classroom, looking around to see if anyone was still here. “Hello?”

You called out in a hushed tone. Nothing. He must have to left the room to avoid suspicion. Smart. You smirked and invited yourself into his office, turning the light on. His office was very neat. All his papers were in specific spots, and other than that it was pretty boring. You stood there for a few moments until you heard the click of the door, your nerves completely on edge. You’ve been wanting this for so long. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you mr B-“ you turned around and stopped in your tracks, stunned to see who was at the door. Himchan was there, his feline eyes hooded with lust as he gently locked the door with one hand. Your heart started beating uncontrollably. “I-I’m so sorry mr Kim.. I was just..” You felt so embarrassed, now the student teacher knew you wanted to fuck his boss. “I’m not sure why you’re apologizing to me.” He said in that deep... oh so raspy.. fucking voice. He dug In his jean pocket and held up an.. oh shit.

iPhone.

“You.. you’re iPhone.” You almost laughed, but it caught in your throat as he approached you, noticing all the muscles under his shirt the closer he got. Jesus Christ he was hot.

“I know you were expecting Yongguk. I saw the way you looked at him when you accepted my note. And I have to say.” He gently placed his hand on your chest, causing you to walk backwards until your back met the desk and you fell back onto it, ending up sitting on it. “It made me a little jealous.” You could feel your cheeks heat up, and something else was tingling too. You didn’t want to admit it, you were loyal to yongguk, but... this just felt so right. “I shouldn’t..” You said, turning your head away from his as his face neared yours. Respectfully, he moved his hand away from you, straightening his collar.

“My mistake. Sorry if i misinterpreted you.” He Gave you the most genuine smile. Your eyes trailed down. His neck was strong and there was one vein sticking out slightly. Then down his arms, and damn. Those veins. Those big hands, and long delicate fingers. Then down to his waist. He was obviously frustrated because you could see the bulge in his pants and-

“Fuck it” You said just as he started to turn around. You grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, causing him to look at you in shock, then pulled his face to yours, your lips crashing against his. God they were so soft, and had the faintest taste of cherry lingering on them. He tasted amazing. Gently his tongue swiped over your lips, asking for entrance. You complied and began making out with him. Hard. You could basically feel yourself dripping down from your skirt. Slowly at first, then quickly his hand started at the bottom on your thigh, then slid upwards under your skirt, a single finger sliding over your panties to feel you.

“Damn youre so wet.. I knew you wanted me..” he mumbled into your mouth, but you were so hungry for him you couldn’t even reply, only moaned and desperately grabbed a fistful of his hair, willing him to continue kissing you. “Ah Ah Ah..” he pulled away from you, pushing you more into the desk so that your legs were hanging off the edge. I’m one quick motion, he grabbed both sides of your hips and pulled your skirt down, tossing it behind his back. Without a word, his face disappeared into your core, his tongue entering you first to earn a loud moan. Skillfully, his tongue exited you then made a full circle around your hole. “Jesus Christ you tease, why won’t you fuck me?” You whined, feeling empty without him filling you up.

“Shhhhh, let me have you, princess~” he cooed into your womanhood. Fuck, when he called you princess it was like the waterfall had been unleashed. His tongue maneuvered in and out of your folds, leaving no area untouched by his wonderful tongue. Suddenly his tongue entered you again while his other hand snakes around your body, down your stomach, and went straight to your clit which was already enforced with excitement. As soon as his thumb made contact with the bundle of nerves, you threw your head back and nearly screamed as he began making gentle circles on the sensitive bud. In and out his tongue went, and his movements with his thumb became tougher. “Fuck fuck fuck FUCK” You said all in one breathe, unable to hold back your high as your body convulsed. He held onto your hips to keep you stable and smiled up at you, as you rode out your orgasm. Very gently, since you were still sensitive, he entered two fingers into you to get all your juices, and sucked his fingers while looking up at you.

“Jesus fucking Christ” You said out of breathe at the orgasmic sight

“Don’t think I’m done with you” he said, his loving voice gone, and replaced with that low growl again. He stood up, pulled his shirt off over his head, then unbuckled his belt, and off came his pants all within 30 seconds. You could see it in his eyes. He was ready. You were still shaking, but god you looked down at his dick, and he was gifted, BIG time. “I don’t know if I can...” You started to say, but he shook his head, grabbing both of your thighs with his strong hands, his short nails digging into them. It felt good. You felt yourself getting wet again for him. “I’ll start gentle for you, but I want you screaming my name by the end of this, princess.” He whispered into your ear, making you shiver as he lined the tip of his member up with you, then slid the tip in. You moaned into his neck, while he slowly pushed into you. Your walls tightened at the foreign feeling, causing himchan to moan in a low voice. “Fuck...” he growled, finally pushing his full length into you. He then began to fuck you on the desk—hard. After the first soft and slow stroke, he held nothing back. He pumped in and out of you at a fast pace. Despite just sitting on the desk and holding his back, you couldn’t keep up with him, your body completely at his mercy as he moved your hips for you. “Himchan... himchan!!” You started saying, but it wasn’t even you. You had no control over your voice. You went to look for some leverage, and ended up knocked over a lamp. “Can’t stay up?” He mumbled and without missing a stroke, laid you on the desk and climbed up with you, pulling both your legs up and laying them on his shoulders as he relentlessly fucked you. One hand held your legs over his shoulder, while the other hand played with your right breast, gently twisting your sensitive nipple. “Himchan! KIM HIMCHAN! FUCK!!” You screamed louder and louder as he lifted your hips up off the table to get a better angle and hit your sweet spot. Once he hit it a couple times you were gone. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your back arched higher than you knew it could. “FUCK!” You said one more time, your walls tightening again around Himchan’s dick, allowing him to feel completely consumed by you. His movements became more erratic, and he finally hit his high, moaning loudly in his voice that made you want to fuck him again. Completely out of energy, he pulled away from you, panting like a dog. He finally looked at you, a sweaty mess and smirked. “Not thinking about Yongguk now, huh?”

#bap #bap scenarios #yongguk #bap smut #himchan #himchan smut #kim himchan #bap himchan #kpop #kpop smut #youngjae #daehyun #zelo #jongup

121 notes · View notes

virus-vodka · 4 years ago

Text

This Spell You Got on Me, It's Like Magic

Ship: 5 Stars (Callow x Hattori)

Word Count: 2025

Warnings: Mildly NSFW near the end, but the smut is not the focus.

A/N: Establishing fic for my lad so he can have a boyf lul, also, title is taken from the song Magic by Mystery Skulls (also highkey their themesong)

[5554629]: sry 2 ask this so l8 but r u rich???

[Me]: Why does it matter?

[5554629]: i saw a article abt ur fam, ur rich???

[Me]: Oh, look at the time, it seems like I can’t make it to our date tonight

[Me]: Oh darn

[Me]: Such a cruel world

[Number blocked]

Callow stared down at his phone, one hand against his forehead. He was… upset. This had been the third date in a row that had searched up his name and found out about his money, and it annoyed Callow. At least if they were looking him up, don’t fucking tell him. He knew the signs of a gold digger and always ensured he never had a night with them, lest he put ideas in their heads.

That’s how he ended up in his usual gay bar; upset and frustrated that the past three nights had been busts, and he was just ready to drink himself under the table, pride and safety be damned.

With a wave of his hand, the bartender—a young woman with colourful wings folded against her back—brought him his usual of sprite and vodka, and he slid her a hefty tip. She had seemed flustered, but he was quick to grab his drink, turn, and lean back against the bar.

Normally, he prefered to wine and dine his company, get a feeling for them and see if they were even worth the time or effort, and as of late, if he could trust them. Seeing how his luck had run the last few nights, maybe picking someone up who didn’t have time to look him up was a better idea.

So, that’s where Callow was at, green eyes watching and waiting, sipping at his drink.

A few men caught his attention right off the bat; an older looking brown bear virus was sitting at a table by his lonesome, stirring his own drink idly with the tiny umbrella. A virus with pale white skin and neon pink veins was making his way to each table down by the stage, either one of the performers here or someone more desperate than Callow. A lanky werewolf virus with sharp teeth and even sharper eyes, ice blue that briefly met green, which lingered but continued on.

All three had their merits, but it wasn’t what he wanted tonight. What did he even want tonight?

Holding in a growl, upset and angry he didn’t even know what he was looking for, Callow’s eyes swept the room again. Another older looking man was dressed to the nines with a big gaudy boa around his neck, two younger looking men curled up on either side of him while a third straddled his lap. It wasn’t that type of club, but apparently this virus didn’t care.

Coming to terms that he’d be alone again for another night, Callow turned back to the bar, knocking the rest of his drink back, before ordering another.

After a third drink, Callow was finally able to start feeling a slight buzz, so with a gesture came another glass. Apparently, it also brought a stranger.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” Callow glanced beside him as the stranger sat down on the stool next to him, and Callow nearly stopped breathing.

Beside him was a virus who couldn’t be any older than himself, fuzzy ears poking up from stark white hair that was half tied up in a top knot, a sly smile on his face.

Brown eyes kept locked onto green, Callow unable to look away as he felt his face flush ever so slightly. This man was beautiful.

Thankfully, a glass of sprite and vodka was set down in front of the handsome virus, breaking eye contact for a blessed second so Callow could get his head in order. “Vodka,” the stranger commented, Callow watching as he took another sip, eyes trained on Callow once again.

“Er, yeah, I enjoy it as a mixer.” Callow internally cringed at his own words, having never felt this tongue tied before. What was wrong with him?

The stranger’s smile seemed to soften ever so slightly, his gaze less prodding and more admiring. “I’m Hattori, what’s your name?”

“Callow.”

“Callow,” Hattori repeated, like his name was a fine wine that needed to be rolled around and tested. “I like it, where are you from?”

“Astronomy District, but I’ll be in Dashland for a while.”

“I just moved here from the Supernatural District, and I’ll also be in Dashland for a while.” Oh, that was a very clear open invitation if Callow had ever seen one.

Finally feeling some semblance of normal, though his soul was still racing inexplicably, he leaned in with a smirk on his face. “Well, seems I’ve found a new friend,” Hattori smirked as he leaned in himself. “Mind if I come check out your place?”

Hattori let out a small chuckle, leaning in closer so their breath danced together. “I thought you’d never ask.”

.:.

Callow awoke in the quietness of the early morning, before the birds were up and singing, before his bedmate had even a singular thought of stirring.

He awoke to Hattori facing him, arms wrapped around his waist, face pressed against Callow’s chest. He was still beautiful, hair tousled and all, long since pulled out of the top knot. The five tails had surprised him, but for such a young kitsune virus to have so many tails already spoke greatly of his powers.

Callow didn’t care about his strength or power.

He awoke with an aching heart at the thought of leaving. He never wanted to leave this bed, this room, this apartment, this moment.

In previous one-night stands, Callow had no problem leaving a note and vanishing, sometimes having repeat partners, but otherwise never seeing the man again.

But this time… this time, Callow didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to miss Hattori waking up, miss seeing what his morning routine was, miss seeing him just… live.

Callow must have moved too much, too indecisive if he should leave or not, because Hattori suddenly let out a small groan, his grip tightening around Callow as he buried his face further into Callow’s chest.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled, Callow letting out a snort as his hand automatically came up to run his fingers through Hattori’s sex and sleep mused hair.

“And you’re beautiful.” Came the automatic response, Hattori let out a sleepy chuckle. A brown eye cracked open just enough to look up at Callow, before his head was tipping down.

Carefully, sharp canines nipped at his nipple, Callow’s tail slamming down on the bed loud enough to make Hattori laugh softly and pull back, pressing a gentle kiss to the bite. “I must admit, I’m surprised you wanted to spend the night.” Hattori didn’t meet his gaze, suddenly acting shy as he came back in and hid his face away.

“Why would I leave?”

Hattori was silent for a moment, slowly moving to place his chin on Callow’s sternum, looking up at him. “Ah, most people usually turn me down once they find out I’m a kitsune.” Hattori gave a shrug, eyes darting away. “I… I think they feared my powers.”

Callow felt his tail begin to tense, his body ready to follow suit, but he kept himself relaxed, afraid of giving Hattori the wrong impression. “I don’t fear you.” He mumbled softly, having never spoken more true words.

Fear of Hattori wasn’t even something he thought of, and as stupid as it was, he never even considered Hattori would want to harm him. After all his training, he should have been wary, should have looked further into a random kitsune virus who approached him at a bar unprompted. But something just… clicked in his mind, made him feel safe, like he could trust Hattori.

Callow watched as both white ears perked in his direction before those beautiful brown eyes were staring up at him. He felt nervous, his stomach rolling in anticipation.

Hattori suddenly moved to slide up to his pillow, Callow uncurling himself to better line up with the kitsune. “What else do you think about me?” He asked softly, Callow unable to help himself as he relaxed and leaned in.

“I like your laugh,” he murmured into Hattori’s neck, rewarding him with that deep and breathy sound, something that Callow wanted to hear for the rest of his life. “I like your claws for two reasons, not just aesthetics alone.” Hattori smirked, suddenly running his black claws gently along Callow’s chest, earning a small shiver that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“What else?”

Callow took a moment to recover, but he continued on once he could have a functioning brain cell. “I like your jokes, and how bold you are.” He moved to sit up, using one hand as a support as Hattori moved to lie on his back. “I like how gentle you are, your kindness.” Callow leaned down then, stealing a kiss that Hattori returned.

He moved down, pressing another kiss to Hattori’s chest, teeth nipping at Hattori’s own nipple that had him letting out a soft moan. “Callow,” he cooed, the gator virus nodding as he moved to straddle Hattori’s waist.

“I like how you make me feel,” he managed to get out, gently gripping their cocks together. Hattori let out another moan, a hand coming to grip Callow’s hip as his claws dug into his flesh. “I… I think I’m in love…” Callow flushed in embarrassment at his confession, who just says something like that, and to a complete stranger! He caught feelings and now he was going to ruin—

Hattori surged up, crashing his lips against Callow’s, his own hand coming to help hold their cocks close. “Oh thank the stars, I think I love you too.” His voice was breathy and quiet, but Callow let out a loud whine as he kissed back just as ferociously as Hattori had.

Regretfully, Callow pulled away, breathing heavily as he gently pushed Hattori down. He batted the kitsune’s hands away, shifting and lining up his still wet hole with Hattori’s cock.

As he sunk down, they both let out a moan, but this time was different. Callow didn’t want a quick fuck, and neither did Hattori it seemed, content with just holding Callow’s hips. Gently, they rocked together, Callow leaning down to kiss Hattori, their tongues meeting lazily.

Callow was on cloud nine, his mind trying to figure out if this was truly love or just infatuation. But as Hattori kissed him, moving to press kisses to every available space with nothing but a gentleness he had never experienced before, it was wiped clear from his mind.

The thought pushed him over, moaning out Hattori’s name as he came on his stomach. Hattori followed shortly, crying out Callow’s name as his knot swelled and locked them together.

The kitsune gave a gentle pat to Callow’s side, both panting as Hattori helped Callow lay on his side, both holding each other close. “I’m getting you messy.” Callow mumbled into Hattori’s neck, the older one just letting out a soft chuckle.

“I won’t mind if you stay.”

Both fell quiet, Callow closing his eyes and breathing in Hattori’s scent as he thought.

Wasn’t this what he wanted? But why was he so scared? If anyone found Hattori… if they knew their relationship…

“It’s not safe to be with me.” Callow murmured, but he only felt Hattori tighten his grip to keep him close.

“Then I’ll make it safe. I want you, Callow.” He felt tears begin to pool in his eyes, nodding into Hattori’s neck as he buried his face closer, never wanting to leave this moment.

“I want you too,” he managed to get out, Hattori relaxing his grip as those clawed fingers came up to run through his hair. “I want you too.” He repeated, softer this time.

“Good,” Hattori rumbled, nuzzling the top of Callow’s head. “I don’t want to miss this, miss you.” Callow pressed a gentle kiss to Hattori’s neck, feeling him return the gesture to the top of his head.

“I don’t want to miss you either.”

#LVC #Larka's Virus Community #The Vodka Writes Fanfiction #Callow #5 Stars

0 notes

yominonozomi · 7 years ago

Text

Pt II of what I’ve officially named the Rehab AU over on AO3 ft. kisasaku smut and more Cockblocking!Akatsuki

of course rated M and dedicated to a very kind reviewer over on AO3

I’ll get back to writing non smut things eventually I swear ok don’t yell at me

“She’s gonna fuck us,” Deidara said flatly.

“And not in the fun way either,” Hidan nodded in agreement.

Kisame groaned and dragged his hands down his face, hoping maybe he’d be able to wipe himself out of existence if he pressed hard enough.

“It’s almost impressive, I didn’t think it was possible to fuck up omelette rice quite,” Deidara made a vague gesture toward their now completely decimated kitchen, “this bad.”

“In my defense- things didn’t really start going south until it came to the rice,” Obito said matter-of-factly.

“The rice?” Hidan said incredulously. “Motherfucker, the rice?”

“I hate all of you.” Kisame muttered miserably into his fingers.

“Aw, cheer up fish-face,” Obito said, slapping a hand a little too sharply against the swordsman’s shoulder to be considered friendly. “I’m sure you’ll be able to clean things up in time for your date with Pinky.”

“Clean?” Kisame deadpanned.

“Date?” Deidara and Hidan parroted.

Obito waved a dismissive hand from halfway out the door. “Yep, gotta go~”

Kisame stared incredulously after him, opinion swaying dangerously between hunting down the scarred Uchiha in order to strangle him or giving up on life and strangling himself.

He turned at the creak of a floorboard behind him just in time to see the bomb-maker dive over the back of the couch and out the window.

Hidan raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me.”

Kisame, for the life of him, could not understand just what was so fucking hard about poaching eggs. He’d slaughtered entire villages single-handedly and led battalions of black-ops through the bloody mist, but so help him if this round little egg fucker turned into stringy mush like the rest of them, he was gonna whip out Samehada and start smashing shit-

“What’s all this?”

Caught off guard, the swordsman floundered between his position over the stove glaring at an innocent egg and greeting the little figure in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said lamely, overcome with a sudden stupid shyness. “Dinner.”

The pinkette gave him a small smile, weighed down around the edges by fatigue but sweet nonetheless, and slipped under his arm to peak at the contents of the pots.

“Omelette rice?” She hummed.

Kisame cleared his throat and casually launched a desecrated carton of eggs into the next room when she glanced at the wreckage of his previous attempts.

“It looks good,” she said with a small laugh, turning in his arms.

He swallowed at the proximity, the air suddenly feeling warm and heavy and hard to drag through his lungs. It all came rushing out when she stood up on her tip toes and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Long day?” She mumbled, pressing lingering little kisses against his lips.

He made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat, the hiss of his hand sliding up her side to tangle in her hair hushing against the little sigh she made for him when he melded his lips more seriously against hers. The feeling of her nails scraping against the sensitive skin of his scalp sent sharp little tingles over his skin to burst behind his eyelids and he pressed into her. The little thing underneath him purred in response, arching up to wrap both arms around his broad shoulders and suck on his bottom lip in a way that made his toes curl in his sandals.

He came back to himself before lost all self control and bent her over the counter.

“Not as long as yours, I think,” he managed, sucking in a long breath as he tried to swim back through his fogged consciousness. He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. “Food first.”

The pinkette smiled sleepily into where her face was buried in his shoulder and let him drag her to the couch. “Yessir.”

“Come on, baby girl, open your mouth.”

The kunoichi gave a tired laugh and closed her eyes, dutifully opening her mouth for him. She smiled around the spoonful of rice that was placed there and burrowed closer into the much larger man’s side.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, wrapping his arm around her petite form and adjusting himself on the too-small couch to give her more room. “Tired?”

The pinkette made a little noise of affirmation, melting into him when he started stroking slow shapes along her back with his wide hand. The muscles around her ribs jumped and she arched when the rough pads of his fingers coasted against a particularly sensitive spot of her waist. They doubled back and took to drawing delicate little circles there until she was squirming on top of him.

He gave a rough chuckle when her eyes popped open to squint at him, but she quickly silenced it with a kiss. The Mist nin groaned at the feeling of her tongue darting out against his lips, shifting to get her further on top of him and against the too-warm flush building under his skin.

The little pinkette took that as an invitation to fully straddle him, the muscles of her inner thighs fluttering when she came to rest right over the thick, bulging outline of his cock that his sweatpants did little to hide. She couldn’t help but smile at the dazed look on his face, but he recovered quickly, big hands coming to rest on her hips and drag her back and forth along his cock with a near bruising force.

“Fuck,” she whined when the swollen, big tip of his cock pressed up into her entrance through their layers of clothing. Her eyes closed and head tilted back of their accord against the sudden dizzying onslaught of heat, a flush building high on her cheeks as he continued to harshly grind into her.

She clung to the hands on her waist, high pitched little whines leaving her when he teasingly pushed his cock up against her clothed entrance, the painful-pleasurable, near stinging sensation of the cloth around his big cock straining against her opening sending wetness flooding down into her underwear.

“Fuck, Kisame,” she started, but lost it in the sensation.

That was all he needed though, flipping her underneath him and gently easing her back into the couch.

“Shhh,” he cooed, leaving wet, searing hot open mouth kisses along the delicate column of her throat. Two fingers hooked under the waistband of her pants and he took his time dragging down the smooth, soft skin of her legs before his fingers found the soaking wet material covering her entrance. She keened when his fingers rubbed into the swollen, aching nub of her clit there through her underwear, and he watched her throw her head back with a foggy gaze.

His big fingers circled it one, two, three times until she felt waves of chills run up from her toes and sear sharp into her nipples.

“Fuck, gods, Kisame,” she whined, sounding strangled even to her own ears.

He purred at the sound of his name and pulled away just long enough to slip the soaked material down her legs and toss them away.

“Mmm,” he moaned, brushing the rough pad of his thumb against her exposed, swollen clit and watching her writhe underneath him. “You’re fucking soaked.”

The pinkette bit into her lip, caught between embarrassment and impatience. The pressure inside of her was building and building and so close to too much and all she wanted was his fingers or cock or something in her. She dug her fingernails into the breadth of his shoulders, her expression pinching in need.

Kisame simply smiled in return, his hands leaving her aching clit to sigh down the backs of her thighs.

“Just close your eyes and relax, baby girl.” He murmured, peppering light kisses down her abdomen that tickled the skin there.

She squirmed at the sensation but did as she was told, a sharp breath jolting her lungs when he pushed her knees back toward her chest and blew a long, warm breath against her soaked entrance.

“Oh,” she whimpered when the rough, broad pad of his tongue swept up directly against her clit. Her hips arched and strained at the second stroke, but he easily pinned her to the couch.

“Mmmm,” he groaned, greedily sucking at her clit before dipping his tongue down to lap at her dripping hole. “You taste so good, sweetheart.”

“Kisame,” she gasped around the stifling heat in her lungs, the edges of her vision were darkening and she was arched so tautly into his arms that she was afraid she might shatter if she moved, only for him to start flicking his tongue under the hood of her clit and shatter her anyway.

The wet, obscene sound of him hungrily devouring her was the only she could hear, save for her own loud and nearly desperate cries.

“Oh god,” she moaned mindlessly when he found a pattern to roll his tongue in that made her convulse. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

She felt like she was on fire and she was so wet and so close and he was pinning her harder to the cushions and growling in a way that vibrated all the way down to her toes and then he was sucking on her clit and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Kisame!” She screamed, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life and squeezing her eyes closed against the searing white that took over her vision. It felt like the blood in her veins had been doused and set on fire and she was being consumed, and it was hitting her in waves and waves and waves, and all she could do was be suffocated by it.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kisame murmured from somewhere far away,” just breathe, baby.”

The waves hit her slower and slower, lapping against her and dragging slowly away down her body until she felt like she could breathe again. Slowly, she opened her eyes and was met with Kisame’s languid smile.

“You alright?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, and buried her face in his shoulder in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she muttered sheepishly.

The Kiri man frowned at that, pulling away from her to press a long, warm kiss to her lips.

“Don’t apologize.”

The pinkette felt briefly overwhelmed with a wealth of unnamed emotions, and dragged him back down into another kiss in lieu of struggling to find the words to express them. Kisame was more than happy to indulge her, grunting when she wrapped her legs around his waist and caged him to her, pressing herself against his now painfully hard cock.

Briefly, naughtily, she pushed herself down onto the clothed, throbbing tip of his cock in the same way he had teased her earlier and watched his expression contort.

“God,” he half breathed half growled, placing one hand next to her head to balance himself and jerking his pants harshly down onto his hips with the other, “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

She didn’t have time to appreciate the huge, weeping length of his cock before he had slammed it into her and set a pace that had her eyes rolling back. Desperately, she clung to his back, her mind refusing to form words.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby,” he hissed, pressing her knees into her shoulders and pounding his cock into her. She raked her nails down his back hard enough to draw blood in response and he bucked in surprise, a rough, pleasured sound leaving him.

“Fuck yes,” he growled through grit teeth, falling forward onto his forearms as he continued to thrust his cock into her at an unforgiving pace. She could feel her lungs filling back up, like warm water, and then he found that perfect spot just inside her and she was drowning again.

His pace faltered, his head falling to her shoulder, when she scraped her nails again down the sensitive skin of his sides, and her walls crushed down on him just as he pushed his cock into her. A tortured groan ripped from him as he strained to push his cock into the friction, and then again as she gripped him too tight to pull out.

“You keep that up and I’m gonna cum,” he growled into her ear, warm breaths puffing against her neck as he accentuated his threat with a round of particularly rough thrusts.

All the pinkette could do was gasp for air as the darkness took over again, but this time Kisame was inside her and he wasn’t stopping and every time he slammed his cock back into her it sent another crushing wave up her spine and made her head spin until she couldn’t tell which way was up and all she could do was hold onto him.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock. Come for me! Ah, that’s it, good girl.”

She felt more than heard him groan, realizing distantly that he was talking to her and kissing her and his thrusts were becoming frantic, until she was flooded with a searing hot warmth as spurt after spurt of his cum gushed into her. From beneath her lashes, she watched the thick cords of his muscles clench and his body tense, enjoyed the feeling of his moans vibrating into her chest and the weight of him collapsing on her.

An exhausted smile stretched her lips and she gently squeezed her arms around him.

“You alright?” She parroted in the same teasing tone he’d used earlier.

He gave a soft chuckle, mostly because that was all he could manage, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, when all she could feel was his warmth and the soft rhythm of his heartbeat against her shoulder, he carefully lifted her from the couch and deposit her into bed with him. Lovingly, he stroked her hair and wrapped her up in his arms, and they both slept long and hard.

“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

Itachi glanced up from the book in his lap, calmly watching his relative pace the kitchen like a rabid animal, and then back down.

“Omelette rice!” Obito screeched, waving the dirty pan at the once again dirty kitchen and the messed couch. “Fucking omelette rice!”

Itachi turned a page.

“I believe it was Kisame that did the fucking, not the rice.”

#kisasaku #kisame #sakura #smut #mine #Rehab AU #deidara #hidan #uchiha itachi #uchiha obitio #is a dirty little cockblocker #and more peanutgallery!akatsuki #pt II

146 notes · View notes