#anyway. i love drawing ruby. i think i popped off with her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

He’s channeling his energy productively.

Jaune walked down the halls of Beacon backed to his dorm, it had been a long day so far, not a hard day though, just one of those days that kept going and seemed like they wouldn’t end. Making it back to his room would at least let him spend the rest of day how’d like.

The sounds of laughter followed a group of older girls walked pasted him. It was outside of class time so the students could wear whatever they wanted. They wore clothes that were made to go clubbing.

Jaune’s eyes had a life of their own as they stared at the girls walking past, you’d think having seven sisters would make him more respectful wouldn’t you? But, having a lesbian older sister, and a couple others that were bi, all they did was teach him how to peak without getting caught.

That said he’d doubt his friends would call him out for staring, considering some of the girls here had assets that would give Yang pause.

They didn’t notice him pausing and walked by, a fragrant fruity perfume left behind. Jaune couldn’t help but look behind him, watching those girls go, a sway in their step that cause something in Jaune to rise up.

“Dammit,” Jaune cursed as his pants tightened up.

Jaune look around before he adjusted his pants, so that his zipper wouldn’t fly off by accident again, and tucking his erection down his pant leg so that it’d be less noticeable.

Jaune felt frustration well up in him, this had become a reoccurring problem since he started Beacon. The girls here were just too damn hot! It made walking anywhere a damn hassle and a embarrassment, and he had no way to release any of his damn tension in his dorm, Nora had broken the locks to the bathroom and the door; That had probably been the closest he had ever come to killing somebody.

Letting out an other sigh he resigned himself to shuffling back to the dorm as the blood went flowing elsewhere. He should just thank his lucky stars that he’d never popped a boner anywhere near Ruby, Yang would have found out somehow, probably Nora, and then killed him.

Right as he got close to the dorms, Jaune’s blood-flow was back to normal, but he still felt tense and incredibly worked up.

The sound of weights being lifted, treadmills running, and other exercise equipment sounded from nearby.

The gym was only a short walk away from the dorms. Jaune paused for a moment, Nora and Yang always seemed to go to the gym when they go worked up, maybe he should try it, it’s not like he didn’t go often anyway, so what would it hurt to work out so stress?

---------

Jaune stared at the scroll in his hands, ‘10:03′ where did the time go? He went in at ‘4:26′, went to the weight rack, and then everything seemed to go into a blur, and then the next thing he remembered was a upperclassman telling him the gym was closing in soon.

“Guess, I had more stress to work out than I thought I did.” Jaune said to himself walking to the gym showers, suddenly starting to feel exhausted and wanting to jump into bed at the closest opportunity.

-----------

The next morning was agonizing, his arms felt like they were made of pure, while on fire and being pulled apart! Maybe he went too hard last night.

He was also feeling cavernously hungry. No wonder Nora has an appetite like a black-hole.

------

Jaune’s problem came back in full force during lunch when Yang leaned too far back and the top couple buttons of her shirt decided they wanted a life in the air force.

Leaving Jaune with a delicious view of her cleavage.

Yang looked at her shirt, “Shoot, I actually liked this one.” She then resumed eating.

A hand caressing his leg, brought him out of his vision. “Are you alright, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s warm, gentle voice whispered into his ear

A mildly blush went up his face. “Yeah, just, uh, taking in the view.”

“Oh, ok then, but if your not feeling well, I can take you back to the room.”

“I’m good.” Jaune said a little too fast, as his mind started to fill in the blanks of what his monkey brain wanted to do to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha nodded.

Jaune felt thankful that Yang or Nora hadn’t found a chance to tease him about being alone with Pyrrha.

Lunch came and went, and Jaune made sure he was the last to get up, so that his problem wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t exactly fiddle with himself under the table without drawing attention. So with all the swiftness he had, he tucked himself into his pant-leg while getting up.

In hindsight, maybe walking behind his developed female friends, and especially Blake, was a bad idea. His other head disagreed with him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, combat class was a mess, but mostly cause he can’t being drawn to his friend outfits, they showed so much leg.

He went back to the gym again after class, he went to the treadmill and leg exercise machine. The upperclassman had to tell him to leave again.

-------

The rest of the week seemed to follow a similar pattern for Jaune, he’d wake up sore, but a little less so each day, go to class, end up aroused, then pent up, then go to the gym when he had the free time, and only when he had free time, going into those workout trances made him lose anytime for studying, hanging out, or training.

Training with Pyrrha was probably the hardest part of his week, literally and metaphorical, because while he loved Pyrrha like a sister, his body constantly reminded him that they were not siblings! It always made him feel disgusted when ever he looked at Pyrrha that way. No way Pyrrha ever looked at him that way.

After training with Pyrrha though, he still had two hours before the gym closed, and he was pent up again.

The upperclassman had told him to get an alarm or something, cause he wouldn’t always be there to tell him to leave.

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

Hanging out with team RWBY was always a... Experience, they were fun, don’t get him wrong, but it was like chaos in a bottle. The bottle was also cracked, and there was no cork either.

Today he and the rest of his team came over to hangout, and Ruby insisted they play twister.

Jaune was forming a bridge with his arms bending backwards to stay on there spot, while Ruby was draped across him with one leg over his shoulder and the other over his arm, with her front laying across his stomach, and her arms going in between and around his legs. While Nora lay under him her chest pressing into his back. It was also a really small mat.

Everybody else had dropped out, or refused to play, while Blake controlled the game, and Yang video taped everything.

Then Nora sneezed into his neck. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Sneeze both tickled his neck and scared the life out of Jaune, as he somehow managed to jump a foot into the air from his position, carrying Ruby with him. They landed on Nora with a thud.

Jaune’s position with Nora’s chest on his back and Ruby’s legs on his chest, really wasn’t going to help with his tension, as his lower-body decided to achieve liftoff.

That said he had managed to get a grip on himself lately,. So Jaune calmly got off Nora, and picked up Ruby, putting her next to Nora. All while hiding his full mast, then went to the gym again.

“You think he’s alright?” Ruby asked innocently.

“Probably just rubbing one out.” Nora said full of confidence. “These sweater puppy's of mine are of a quality most women can only dream of, yet here I sit, my majesty a reality, I don’t blame Jaune at all.”

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

Jaune was watching with wrapt attention as Ms. Goodwitch strode across the arena pointing out several flaws in recorded fights she had on holographic videos. Tapping them with her wand to enhance the smaller images at time.

RIIIP

Her blouse broke, showing off globes of creamy white flesh barely being contained by a purple bra.

Ms. Goodwitch paused, a light blush on her face. “Well, Students this should teach us to be prepared for anything.”

Jaune then got up, walking out the door.

“Mr. Arc, where do you think your going?” His teacher asked severely, as several laughs broke out of the room, many people pointing at him.

“To the gym. I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus much today.” “Very well, any others who wished to join him?”

The gym was very packed that day.

------

Jaune enjoyed hanging out with Pyrrha, she was probably the best friend he ever had. He just wished she would stop having to bend over so often in front of him, or walking in front of him when she did that he couldn’t help but focus on her swaying hips.

Jaune sighed as he felt a rise tower start to erect. “I’m going to the gym be back later.”

Pyrrha merely looked bewildered. She though she had him for sure this time!

----

The transfer students were interesting people, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They came from all walks of life, all paths, all creeds and kingdoms. From the strictly dressed military like Atlas Academy, to the survival of the fittest types and loosely dressed Shade Academy, or the storied and traditional style of Mistral. They were all interesting, diverse, strong and incredible sexy.

Ever since he ran into that black haired girl and her green haired partner, he somehow kept managing to find them in the most compromising or revealing positions possible.

So, Jaune started hitting the gym harder than ever.

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

1 Year later....

----

With a slight shaking arms Jaune pushed the loaded bar back up, exhaling. Then he took a slow, deep inhale as he lowered it down to his chest, then exhaled rising it up again. Inhale, exhale, till he finished his rep.

He rose up from the bench with a grate moan, feeling the warm soreness across his body. It hurt, but in a good way. In a way he couldn’t have appreciated a year ago.

Grabbing his towel he wiped the sweat off his face, and then cleaned off the bench. Treat the gym right, and it’ll treat you right back.

Jaune paused as he walked toward the shower, he had gotten into a habit of showering here so he didn’t have to make his teammate's rush to clean up, there was wall of mirror he looked himself over finding nothing of note, beside himself sweaty and his hair kinda sticky looking.

The water was cold, but high pressured, helping unwind any knots on his back and wash off grime better. He had started taking cold showers more frequently as in the field your rarely got to wash off in general, and if you did, it’s not likely you’ll get hot water, so it he thought it was probably best to get into the habit now.

Working out felt good, taking a shower afterword was just perfect. The only thing that would make it better was wearing his onesie, he had a right to comfort! But, it had gone mysteriously missing after he met Coco on his walk back from the gym half a year ago. So, for now he was stuck wearing white tank-top, and a pair of cotton shorts back to the dorm.

He waved by to the upperclassman about to close the gym, and left for his dorm. He may not have started going to the gym for the right reason, but over the course of a year, he felt like he had grown from then. In fact... what was the reason he started going to the gym? Something about women? Eh, must have been nothing. Ever since he started taking his training double seriously during the Vytal festival, it was like he just didn’t feel dating anybody till he around to being a huntsman, like that there was more to life than dating or stuff.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, he had started growing it out at the beginning of the second year and now Pyrrha and everybody else vetoed him getting a hair cut!

“Hahah, jokes on them though, they have to brush the knots out of my hair!”

Walking back to his dorm a fruity perfume pasted his nose, a vaguely familar laughter along with it. Then a slightly familar group of girls were walking in the opposite direction as him. They looked like they came back from a night on the town. He liked the way they dressed, it complimented themselves very well.

As he walked pasted them they paused and stared at him, Jaune paused too, but shrugged, giving them a broad smile and a wave before walking back to his dorm.

Jaune failed to miss the women eyeing fucking him as he walked away, all of them red face and heavy breathing.

“Hmm, why do I feel like I’m in danger?”

----------

Jaune wasn’t sure when, but he had grown into a morning person. It was fun to get up in the morning now, he liked watching the sun rise, seeing the sky change colors on his morning runs.

Being team leader meant having responsibilities, so being a early riser now meant getting up his team, they were going to be third-years in a not small amount of time. So he made sure that they got up at a reasonable time to prepare for the day. Along with the fact on mission they would have to get up before the sun rise on most days.

Also, he especially liked to watch his teammates get up, it was entertaining in different ways from Nora crashing out of bed, to Ren rising from a blanket cocoon, and Pyrrha’s silly little death threats to any man stealing bitches out there.

He tended to wake them up with a gentle approach putting hand on there shoulders and carefully shaking them awake. He had forgotten how strong he was a couple of months ago when he sent Nora flying into a wall by accident, so had tried to be gentle.

The rest of Team Jnpr had learned a couple months ago that they no longer had a choice in waking up early, the only choice was before the sun was up or after.

Jaune put on his uniform for class, he frowned a little bit, as it was tighter than it was yesterday. Maybe it’s new? Guess it needs to be broken in.

Team RWBY met them at breakfast, Ruby refused to let her other bestie get ahead in the leader game by letting just JNPR get up early! Jaune didn’t notice but he often got murderous glances from Blake.

Eating breakfast Jaune felt a crick in his back so he leaned back.

Pop-pop-pop-pop, RIIIIP!

His buttons on his shirt fired off like a machine gun shattering against the walls of the cafeteria, and then his shirt fell to pieces, revealing his sculpted torso, arms and abs.

“Ahh man, I liked that shirt.” Then continued eating, not aware of the stares his friends, other students, and Ms. Goodwitch were giving his body, eyeing him up as much or more than he used to do to them.

AN: If this Jaune was ever put into a situation where couldn’t exercise for like a week, his libido would come back with vengeance and make him a unstoppable sex monster. That said, what are the odds of that happening?

#Jaune Arc #Not quite crack #Slight Himboification #Team JNPR #Team RWBY #Glynda Goodwitch

292 notes · View notes

wroteclassicaly · 3 years

Text

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

105 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male drider x reader - Part Four (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I think the previous parts have had a female reader, but I left it ambiguous/gender neutral in this one, even in the nsfw bits, mostly out of habit.

It's 8000 words, with a bit of angst, a good dose of fluff, some recognition of unhealthy attitudes, and a slightly messy nsfw scene at the end...

Hope you enjoy!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Gilvas waited until you’d closed the matching panel at the other end of the secret passage, and then turned away.

While you worked on the catalogue, you couldn’t shake the vulnerable look on his face as he’d told you about his late wife and as you’d stared at her vivacious features in the portrait. In the nine years since her death, he’d become a shadow, haunting this creepy old mansion and drifting from one day to the next, and it broke your heart. Gilvas was clearly a gentle soul, though his fuse was short at times, but you had begun to suspect that it was more of a defence mechanism than a character trait.

As evening billowed around the stone walls of the enormous house at the end of the day, with an awful lot still swirling around your mind, you nearly walked straight into Naril who was loading his last pile of autumn leaves into a wheelbarrow by the back door. He called your name just in time and you sidestepped with a bashful grin.

“So is it true?” he asked almost immediately.

“Is what true?”

His ears waggled and he laughed as he dumped the leaves into the barrow with a little flourish. “You and the master…?”

“Me and the master what?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “You make it sound like we’re school kids caught snogging behind the bike sheds! He showed me the portrait of his wife and told me a bit about her, that’s all.”

Naril shook his head expressively. “We’ve had people here on the estate before, you know? None of them ended up strolling the corridors with him.”

“How’d you know about it anyway?” you asked instead, resisting the urge to flick him in fond reprimand on his large ear.

“Chiara came in and started talking to my dad about it. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could they. The master doesn’t ‘chat’ with anyone…”

You shrugged. “Well, if he’s happy talking to me, I’m happy enough to listen. He seems nice, once you get past the way he likes to bark at you.”

Two days later, while you were stooped over the working version of the catalogue, scribbling something down in the margins of your cataloguing notes, the shadows moved in the recesses of the library, and Gilvas emerged. You looked up and smiled. “Hi,” you offered.

He nodded curtly at you and began to pace.

Setting your pencil down a minute or two later, you asked, “Everything… alright?”

Gilvas turned, apparently on the point of snapping something acerbic and defensive at you, but he caught himself in time and paused, throat working. The dark red birthmark on his neck moved and shifted like ink in water. If asked, you’d have said he was nervous. “I… I was wondering if you would take tea with me on the terrace today.”

You froze. Of all the things you’d been expecting from him, that had not been it. “Uh…” you began artlessly.

“Or not. You don’t have to,” he blurted, turning away. “Stupid idea anyway.”

“Wait,” you laughed, relief washing through you. “Wait. I’d love to. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

If you’d been surprised, it was nothing to the expression on Chiara’s face when he summoned her to the library with a little bell pull that you’d not spotted before.

“You… You want to take tea… You want to take tea outside…?” the harpy repeated, looking unsteady on her clawed feet.

As if he’d just realised how unusual it was, his expression went blank, his four ruby eyes going dull, and he seemed to deflate. Gone was the intimidating, sharp-edged lord of the manor, and in his place you saw a vulnerable, shattered widower, with no one to talk to and rusty social skills.

Reading her master well enough, Chiara schooled her features into something resembling their usual sternness, and she nodded. “Of course. I will have it set up for you and…” she looked at you with her golden eyes and you tried not to shrink away. “For the both of you.”

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, departing.

“I think I gave her quite the shock,” he muttered, half smirking.

With a snort, you said, “We’re just going to have to find more ways to surprise them.”

“Them?”

“Your staff,” you said. “It’s clear that they all respect you, and they enjoy working here - well, obviously I can’t speak for all of them, but I have supper with Mr. Ambleside and his son almost every night. I don’t get the impression that they’d object to seeing a bit more of their mysterious master from time to time.”

“It’s been so long,” he croaked. “I… I’ve hidden myself away up here. I… I don’t remember — I mean…” he broke off and you noticed how glassy his eyes were.

Cautiously, you approached him and laid your hand on his foremost right leg. It was smooth like glass, and cold. It felt extremely brittle, though you knew the chitin was pretty tough. Your eyes nearly drifted to the empty stump on his right side though, and you suppressed a shiver. It wasn’t that tough. He shuddered and you nearly retracted your touch. “Sounds like you could use a friend to take tea with every now and again…” you said gently.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If… If you could bear it.”

“Bear it?” you repeated. “Please. I wouldn’t have accepted if it wasn’t something I didn’t already want to do.”

Gilvas fixed you with a piercing red gaze, making the blood-dark streak of his hair and the swirling birthmark stand out in vivid detail. “No,” he mused slowly, his legs and spider body relaxing a little into your touch like a great machine coming to rest. “I don’t suppose you would.”

Tea on the terrace became a daily fixture, weather permitting, and on the first day it was rained off, he asked you into a small drawing room on the ground floor that you’d never been in before.

Four and a half months into your stay, he leaned over the table and poured you another cup with shaking hands. He always shook, you realised, though the tremors worsened when he grew agitated or emotional. If Naril was right, he was about ten years older than you, and while at times he seemed youthful and almost playful when you got him talking about one of his interests - mathematics was a particular favourite of his - there were times when he seemed stiff and tired, and much, much older than you; and older than he truly was. He carried the weight of his grief around with him everywhere, dragging at him like chains, rattling in the quiet corridors of his mind and reminding him of his heartache. He never went too long with a smile on his face, the expression often shattering or sliding off his face to leave a brittle mask behind.

“Gilvas?” you asked as he set the teapot down on the tray with a rattle. “Everything alright?”

“You’re too perceptive by half,” he grumbled. “I wanted to ask you to dine with me tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken off-guard.

“You sound disappointed,” he said a slight huff to his tone.

Conflicted, you said, “It’s Naril’s birthday. He’s celebrating with the rest of the staff and some of his friends tonight, and he asked me to join him…”

“Then you must go, obviously,” he said. After a pause he added, “Naril is the one who tends to the gardens, is he not?”

“Mmm. He’s a firbolg.”

“My father always hired firbolgs for their way with nature. I’d forgotten that Ambleside has a child. How old is he?”

“About my age, I suppose?”

Whether or not he was aware of it, Gilvas’ face shuttered at that. With a sigh, he shifted his already vague gaze to the huge patio windows beside you and stared out at the gardens beyond. It had been raining earlier, but it had cleared up now to leave broad puddles flashing in the sunlight on the terrace. “I think I will go for a walk through the gardens this evening before sunset…”

“You want some company?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“No. Thank you.”

Naril’s party was just rowdy enough to be fun without straying too far into unruliness, and you stayed up late in the kitchens, laughing and joking with him and his father, who, it turned out, had quite the sense of humour with a few glasses of wine in him. Eloise, the maid, also joined you, and a few friends of Naril’s who lived in Starfall Springs. The laughter continued long into the night, until his friends from town announced that it was time to head back just shy of one in the morning.

Waving them off at the end of the night, still buzzing with the unusually vibrant evening, you and Naril turned from the upper gates and walked back to the house. In the dark, the firbolg could see much better than you, so he let you loop your arm amicably through his to stop yourself stumbling on the uneven driveway.

Just as you stepped back into the kitchen, he cracked a good-natured joke at your expense, recalling a moment from earlier in the evening, and you nearly fell about laughing. “Oh my gods,” you wheezed as you clung to his arm to stop yourself tripping up the step. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the plosive consonant with a chuckle. “You’re far too easy to tease. I —” he cut off suddenly, expression falling. His eyes were wide and he was staring at a point on the far side of the kitchen.

You looked up and found the hulking shape of a drider standing silhouetted in the dark doorway. “Forgive me,” Gilvas said stiffly, jaw working. “I came for a brandy. I thought you’d all turned in for the night.”

You blurted, “Gilvas?” at the same time as Naril whispered, “My lord?”

“Forget it,” he said, turning abruptly in the wide doorway. “I hope you enjoyed your evening together.”

Even after the door slammed behind him - the gesture leaving a sour taste in your mouth - neither you nor Naril spoke.

Finally it was Naril who broke the silence. “I’ve never seen him before…” he murmured, awestruck at the encounter. “He looks dreadful. Perhaps he is sick after all?”

“He doesn’t look as dreadful as he looked three months ago,” Chiara’s unexpected voice said tartly from the pantry to your left where she’d apparently been occupied, stowing away the remnants of the uneaten food.

You swallowed. “Well… I… uh… I guess I’d better head back. Thanks for tonight,” you said, hugging Naril briefly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give you… It’s not as if I can go into town or anything from here…”

“Couldn’t you ask your friend to pick you up,” he said. “You know, the one you phone every Friday?”

Despite having phoned Damien every week since arriving, you’d never even thought of asking him to drive all the way out here and pick you up for the weekend. He’d probably do it though if you asked. “I guess I could…”

The idea took root in your mind, and as you took your break the next day, you used the house’s landline to call Damien’s shop since he’d be at work too.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “You don’t normally phone today. How’s things at the Spookville Court?”

“Don't call it that,” you scoffed. “It’s fine. Listen, I haven’t got long, but I was wondering if maybe you’d be free this weekend…? I know it’s not exactly a short drive, but I’d kind of like to get out of here for the weekend…”

There was a pause while he checked his calendar. “Sure,” he said. “I can pick you up on Friday night if you like?”

“You don't have plans?”

“I was gonna grab a beer with Sarrigan since he’s in town,” he admitted, “But maybe if you can get away early, we could go together?”

“I don’t see why I couldn’t…” you said. No one was monitoring your hours after all, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made huge inroads into the project already.

You grinned and practically flung yourself at him when Damien’s truck drew up outside your cottage on the far side of the courtyard. The wide expanse of gravel sat on the side of the house with the servants’ entrance, and was overlooked by the back of the mansion.

“I missed you!” you laughed, letting the colossal orc spin you easily in a circle. “You still smell like chocolate,” you said as his immensely long, black plait caught you in the face.

“Just proves I’m sweet,” he joked, and you groaned, smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand as he set you down.

“That was a bad pun, even for you.”

“You ready?” he asked.

“You don’t want to stretch your legs first? You’ve literally just got here.” He shook his head, but did nip inside your apartment for a drink of water and a bathroom break. While he was gone, you leaned against his truck and looked up at the trees above you. The height of summer was fading to the bronze of autumn now, and a few coppery leaves rained down around you like confetti, spiralling through the air that promised a change of season soon.

“Ready?” he asked, swinging your overnight bag easily into the truck and helping you up the enormous step into the cab.

As you drove away, you glanced up at the house and caught the glint of sun on a window as it closed on one of the upper storeys, but you soon forgot about the house as Damien began to regale you with stories of your friends’ antics.

With Widowsweb Court in the rear view mirror, you sighed and settled into the comfy seat, letting Damien talk as the house dwindled to nothing behind you. It felt good to be away from the limited confines of the estate, but as you looked forward to a weekend in Starfall Springs with your friends, something nagged at the back of your mind, like a caught thread pulling in the sleeve of a favourite sweater…

Your whole weekend in Starfall Springs was like the first breath of fresh garden air after a day spent in the dusty library of Widowsweb Court.

Damien had taken you to the Inglenook Inn that first night, where he, Sarrigan, their respective partners, plus a mothman named Merritt whom you’d met a few times before, and a couple of your other friends were gathered, and the lot of you talked late into the night. There were a lot of questions about Widowsweb Court, but you mostly focused on the work and describing the house and gardens to them. Somehow it felt disrespectful - an invasion of his privacy - to talk about Gilvas much.

As you left the pub to walk back to your modest apartment at the north end of the town, Sarrigan caught up with you. As he scuttled up to you, you were struck suddenly by the difference between him and Gilvas. Sarrigan Silkfoot’s silver-banded fur rippled in the moonlight, ruffled by the night breezes, where Gilvas’ spider body was black, hard, and shiny as black lacquer, and where Gilvas’ legs moved like articulated, curved daggers, Sarrigan’s were chunky and muscular and unbelievably fuzzy, ending in a little hooked and almost dainty talon. Gilvas’ legs ended in wicked points, sharp and slender as paring knives, and his fangs probably carried a deadly venom, where Sarrigan’s smile held only jollity. Gilvas also had no mandibles, where Sarrigan’s hardware clicked and chittered with his emotions.

“Listen,” he said as he fell into a near-silent step beside you. “I know you’ve not got any reception up there at Widowsweb, so I haven’t been able to get in touch by text or whatever, but I just wanted to ask you - away from the others - how it’s going. With my family’s history with theirs, I did some digging into the Widowsweb estate and the family…”

“You did?” You weren’t sure whether to be offended or curious, but in the end, the latter won out. “What did you find?”

“Just tragedy. Lately anyway. Earlier generations seem to have done ok, but… you should look him up.”

“Who, Gilvas?”

He nodded.

“You mean the fire?”

Again, he nodded, shuffling nervously. “The police think he started it, but they could never prove it.”

You scowled, horrified and hurt. “Sarrigan, I’ve met him. He doesn't seem like the type to murder his family - and his unhatched children too?” You shook your head, appalled, stomach roiling. “He’s devastated… rarely talks about them, and when he does… he’s close to tears. I think he lost a leg in the fire too.”

Sarrigan’s handsome face remained harsh and he clicked his mandibles pensively. Finally, he sighed. “Just… be careful, ok? The articles I found all said he had a nasty temper, and that since his wife’s death, he fired all the staff and turned into some kind of recluse…”

“They’ve got the last bit right,” you said, “But not the first.” He did have a short fuse though. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarrigan, but I’m not worried.”

He nodded once. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You shook your head and parted from him with a warm hug. “I appreciate it, but trust me… Gilvas isn’t some cruel, violent lunatic. He’s an isolated widower who’s never learned how to move past his grief.”

To your relief, Sarrigan seemed to take you at your word, and left you at your door looking happier for having aired his anxieties, and in turn having had them laid to rest.

The remainder of your weekend passed without incident, but you couldn’t get Sarrigan’s words out of your head. If he’d been painted by the press at the time as some kind of violent monster, it was no wonder that Gilvas had hidden himself away on his estate and never spoke to anyone.

On the Sunday of your weekend away, you met up with a few friends at Damien’s cafe for breakfast, and spent the better part of the day while the sun was out browsing the marketplace. As you passed a carpenter’s stall, your eye was drawn by a number of carved, wooden puzzle boxes. The satyr who had made them was demonstrating how one of them worked to a small crowed of fascinated onlookers, and when he finished, finally sliding the last section of wood free, the lid sprang open to reveal the empty chamber inside, and everyone applauded.

Fascinated, you realised what a tactile thing the boxes were, and suddenly thought of Gilvas. With his reduced sight, he relied a lot on his sense of touch. On a whim, you bought one and had it wrapped neatly in brown paper by the satyr. Thanking him, you headed home and packed up, bringing with you a few new clothes and a few more things to occupy your evenings.

Bouncing back up the driveway in Damien’s truck that evening, you couldn’t miss the looks the orc tossed you sidelong, and as you drew to a halt in the courtyard again, he stayed put in his seat and asked, “Are you really alright here? It’s so remote…”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I love the work, and the people are kind. I promise I’ll ring you the moment I’m unhappy, but for now, I’m honestly loving it. I’ve never had a better or more fulfilling job, Damien. I can’t believe I’ve got so little time left really…” You paused and sighed. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

He bowed his head and backed off, though not without pulling you half into his lap for a bone-crushing hug first. “Take care, OK?” he grunted before releasing you.

“You sure you won’t stay for some supper?” you asked as you slithered out of your side of the cab and landed on the gravel. “I bet you’d love Naril.”

“I can’t,” he said with a regretful grimace. “I need to get back to prep the shop for next week. Another time?”

You nodded. “Drive safely.”

For the entire week following your return to Widowsweb Court, you didn’t see even the slightest glimpse of Gilvas.

There was no trace of his having been in the library at all, and the secret panel at the rear of the room stayed firmly shut. You didn’t think it was your place to go wandering the corridors again, and although you continued to take a mug of tea out onto the terrace every afternoon, it was hardly the spread of High Tea that you had shared with him every day for months. The whole place seemed empty without his presence now, reminding you of your very first week there, when every shadow and doorway had loomed ominously large before you.

Finally, at the end of the week, you ran in to Chiara on your way back down and you paused to let her past with an armful of linen. “Chiara, is… is Gilvas around? Is he alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and tutted softly at you. “None of your concern,” she snipped at you before bustling off.

You stood there, mute and surprised.

It definitely didn’t sound like he was alright, but what were you to him, really? You thought of the box stowed away in your room, waiting for the right time to be brought out and given to him, and suddenly felt foolish. You’d known him for a matter of months. He was a lord, with land and a title; he had a whole household full of things already, and you were just there to reorganise his library. He’d probably already forgotten about you.

You worked solidly through the morning again the next day, but didn’t feel hungry enough to go down to lunch. You continued on through the day, pausing only to sip from your water bottle before heading back up the ladders time and time again with armfuls of books. It was exhausting. There was no trace of the webbing he’d used to catch you, and since there was also no sign of him, you made sure to take extra care going up and down.

With a sigh you finally set down the last of the hagiographies at eight o’clock that night, and put your hands to the small of your back, grunting. Dusty, tired, stiff, and still oddly demoralised, you thought you heard the creak of a door from the back of the library, but you’d barely dared to hope before the main doors opened and Naril stumped in, looking terribly out of place and awkward in his gardening overalls. He had mud on his trousers, but his boots had been scraped clean.

He sighed your name in obvious relief when he spotted you. “You ok?” he asked.

“Fine, why?” you frowned as you turned to face him, still with your palms pressed to the small of your back.

“You didn’t come to lunch, and you missed supper as well. I was worried about you.”

You smiled and dropped your hands to your sides. “I’m fine. I just… haven’t felt like myself lately. Thank you though.”

An awkward silence hung between you, and he scratched the back of his head. “Right. Well, there’s… uh… stuff in the larder and fridge if… if you get hungry. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been crushed by a ton of books or something.”

With a chuckle, you said, “This isn’t The Mummy you know? People do actually secure their bookshelves…”

He laughed briefly and headed for the doors again. “Seriously though… Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, ears waggling.

“I’ve… I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Ok,” he said, green eyes wide and glassy. “Well, you can always talk to me. What are friends for, right?”

“Right. Thank you, Naril.”

He nodded, and left.

In the silent stillness of the library, you sank with a heavy sigh into one of the nearby chairs and let your palm cradle your chin, with your elbow planted on the wood of the table. When had this place started to feel so sad again? It was as if the gloom was seeping back into the fabric of the place like a sponge soaking up ink.

About a minute later, a familiar movement caught your attention and you looked up to find Gilvas standing beside a bookshelf. He was tilting his head in that way that meant he couldn’t see you in the dim light, but he knew you were still there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, hardly daring to move in case he scuttled away.

Locking onto your voice, he moved with expert familiarity round the library and came to a halt near your table. The only light now came from a lamp one shelf over. “I… I overheard…” he began stiffly. His red gaze sailed right over your head, so it was clear that he couldn’t see you, even this close up. “Is… I mean… Are you alright?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you said wryly, eyeing the dark shadows under his eyes and the tightness around his mouth. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” He looked dreadful again, as if he’d hardly eaten anything in the interim.

“Been better, I suppose,” he said. “The firbolg said you haven’t eaten today… is that right?”

“Mmm.”

“Should we raid the kitchen together?”

You smiled. “You haven’t eaten either I take it…”

He shook his head.

Standing, you swayed as a head rush washed over you and you let out a tiny grunt of surprise, grabbing the back of the chair.

With a scowl, he stepped closer. “Alright?” He steadied you, his hand finding your waist and lingering there.

“I missed you,” you breathed unthinkingly as you stared up at him.

Gilvas froze and then let out a rough exhale, withdrawing a few paces. “You did?”

“Mmm. I have something for you too, from Starfall, but it’s back in my room. I… I’d started to think I wasn’t going to see you again…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers curling briefly into fists at his side. “I… I rather let the melancholy take over again.”

“Why?” you asked, stepping closer to him. His ear followed you and he narrowed his eyes. You got the impression that you’d just stepped into his limited field of vision and he could now make out your silhouette in the shadowy library.

The lord of Widowsweb Court gave a bitter, brittle laugh and turned away, legs moving in sequence like a windup toy. “I think I misled myself,” he said eventually.

Your brows knitted and you closed the distance between you, laying your hand boldly on his cool, obsidian foreleg again. As before, he shivered, but he didn't pull away. “What do you mean?”

“I suppose I got carried away - this past month in particular,” he said in his rough baritone.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said, that cut-glass edge returning to his voice. “You don’t know what it was like before you came here; before you —” he stopped himself but then took a breath and continued in barely a whisper, the consonants softly articulated. You had to lean in closer to hear him. “Before you brought the light back to this place.” His voice cracked as he added, “And you took it with you.”

“Gilvas…” you gasped, shocked by his tone.

“I know,” he growled. “It’s inappropriate of me, and melodramatic. You were only gone for two days. But it’s the truth. I got so swept up in spending time with someone again — in… in enjoying myself — that I somehow forgot that you have a whole life outside of our brief interactions here, beyond these walls…”

“Naril's birthday…” you breathed and he nodded. He’d stumbled upon you and Naril sharing a laugh and a close touch at his birthday and had assumed from the physical closeness that there was something more than friendship between you. That had been the last time you’d seen him.

Then he shook his head in disgust and sneered self-deprecatingly, “It’s as though I became a teenager again - spoilt and sour and… everything I loathe about myself.”

He backed away out of your grip until his huge carapace nudged against the shelf behind him and he went still again. Trapped between you and the books, he breathed heavily for a moment through his aquiline nose. Your heart was beating in your throat but you kept quiet.

“I have a nasty, possessive side,” he said, scowling. “I’d almost forgotten about it, but as — I hesitate to call it a friendship… I’m not sure what we had between us — but whatever it was grew, I came to think of you as… mine. And then I saw you laughing with him and… I remembered that you’re not mine at all. I have no right to make those kinds of disgusting demands or claims. You’re not mine — you’re not anyone’s but your own person. I forgot myself, and I hated myself for it.”

He was jealous.

Gilvas was jealous that you’d been laughing with Naril that night. Despite the anguish on his face, you had to smile. When he heard you chuckle softly, he growled at you again, deep and rich and animalistic. Defensive. That was all it was; defensive bluster.

“It’s true that Naril has come to be my friend here,” you said, moving carefully closer to him now that he couldn’t back away any more. “But I thought about you all weekend while I was away. I couldn’t get you out of my head. When my friend Sarrigan —”

“— Silkfoot?” he interrupted with a sneer. “‘Sarrigan’ is an old Silkfoot name…”

“Yes. Sarrigan Silkfoot is a friend of mine,” you said carefully, noting the lingering displeasure in his features. “He’s currently dating a human, and my best friend, Damien, is also very much in love with a human. If you’re worried about what previous generations of Silkfoots thought about relationships between species, you needn’t worry. The current heir to the family - Sarrigan’s older brother - has even recently married a human. Things have moved on since the founding of Widowsweb…”

His chest heaved and he sank lower so that his pendulous spider’s body was only a few inches above the ground, and his torso and head were almost on a level with yours. “I’ve hidden myself away too long,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Taking a final step over to him, you stood in the space between his deadly front legs. It felt suddenly intimate in the extreme, and you reached your palm out and laid it on his chest. He flinched, but let you talk.

“Sarrigan told me a bit more about the papers said… about the circumstances of the fire… about what people believed at the time…” you said carefully, and Gilvas’ face darkened dangerously. “But I got to know you before I’d heard that, and I can’t believe you would have started it. I can’t believe anyone thought that of you.” You placed your left palm to mirror your right and felt the way his chest heaved with emotion as he listened. “You’re a good person, Gilvas. I told my friends that, and they believed me. And I think you’ve suffered alone for long enough.”

Gilvas’ expression shattered and he leaned forwards and drew you into his arms. “I don't want you to leave…” he whispered into your hair as he held you close. He smelled like books and sandalwood, warm and comforting, and you let your arms snake around his waist.

“I don't have anything else lined up for after I finish here,” you said without letting go. He was gently inhaling the scent of you, you realised, and you let him hold you, drawing comfort from the warmth of your body. “And I told you there’s a lifetime’s worth of work to do on this library…”

“I could renew your contract,” he said. “Or… Or you could… No. I don't want you to feel… obliged…” he said, swallowing thickly and drawing sharply back from your embrace as if you’d burned him. “If I’m paying you —” his face buckled into a sour grimace and he lurched slightly further away from you. “I don’t want to pay you to stay here…” he spat as if the idea thoroughly disgusted him.

You laughed. “I own my apartment in Starfall. I could rent it out for some income, and come and live here with you. That way… there’s no imbalance…”

“Yes,” he nodded breathlessly, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. “Yes, that’s… that’s good. And if you still have your apartment, you can… I mean… there will be somewhere for you… if… if you decide…”

“Stop,” you said. “Don’t push me away again.”

The drider took a huge inhale and nodded. Then he licked his lips nervously and said, “You know, we were going to raid the kitchen before we went down this path. You shouldn’t make any rash decisions on an empty stomach.”

“An excellent point,” you said with mock seriousness. “Let’s go.”

Over a rather strange and cobbled-together supper of leftovers scrounged from the pantry, eaten at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, Gilvas stayed almost completely silent. At first, you thought he was just concentrating on eating, being particularly careful about his movements since he didn’t see as clearly as you did, but after a while, you discovered the crinkle in his brow and noticed the tremor in his fingers again.

“Wait here,” you said, pushing back from the table and touching the back of his hand briefly. He was always so cold.

“Where are you going?” he barked, tense.

With a giggle, you said, “Trust me. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, you vanished out of the back door and scuttled over the gravel to the little apartment above the old stable block where you’d been staying for the past few months. Minutes later, you returned to find him exactly where you’d left him, scowling at his food.

He looked up sharply as you reentered, and you watched his shoulders drop with relief a split second later when he figured out that it was you.

“Here,” you said, holding out the brown paper parcel to him, touching it to the back of his fingers in case he couldn’t see it.

In moments, it was obvious to you that he couldn’t, because his fingertips trailed along the edges, looking for a way into the parcel. “What is it?” he asked warily, shifting his head from side to side.

“You’ll find out. I saw them being made in the marketplace, and I think with your sense of touch you’ll probably have an advantage over someone with sharper vision…”

At that, his frown deepened, though not from discomfort. He was openly curious now, and he got to work on the wrappings, abandoning them to one side. “A box?” he murmured when he’d run his fingers all the way around it. Watching him, you suddenly felt a thrum of desire go right through you. You wanted him to do that to your body, to explore you by touch, and you barely bit back a moan as the force of it swept through you.

He paused and turned his face towards you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “It’s a puzzle box. It’s all inlaid with different types of wood, and there are a few panels and sections that you have to slide in the right order to open it.”

At that, his face cracked into a gorgeous, open, delighted grin and your heart slipped sideways in your chest at the youthfulness it lent to his features. “I used to love these as a child,” he said. “Thank you.”

He moved then, obviously not having been sitting on a chair like you, and found his way faultlessly around the kitchen to where you were seated opposite him. The little inlaid box lay to one side on the table while he took your hands in his and squeezed your knuckles fondly, earnestly.

“Thank you,” he rasped again.

You raised your chin and he let go of you with his right hand and brought it up to cup your left cheek in his cool palm. His thumb traced an arc across your skin and you shivered, exhaling and breathing hard. “Gilvas…” you whispered, want burning inside you inside you like a flare. You didn’t want to push him or rush him, but if he didn’t kiss you in the next three seconds, you thought you might just wither up and die on the spot.

Mercifully, he leaned down, tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips. His kiss was soft, his lips cool and hesitant, but the moment you let a little moan of pleasure escape you, he deepened the kiss. His long fingers scrunched in your hair and he closed his red eyes with a flutter of long lashes. His two forelegs rose up slightly for balance as his body rocked downwards and he pulled back with a gasp, chest heaving again. “I want you,” he whispered hoarsely, looking suddenly shy.

You grinned and stood. “I want you too…”

Gilvas led you through the house, pausing with endearing frequency to kiss you breathless against almost every spare surface that wasn’t covered by paintings or suits of armour or priceless vases on precarious pedestals, and finally he backed you up against the double doors to a bedroom on the fourth floor, and picked you up so that you had to latch your legs around his waist at the point where his humanoid torso met his spider’s body. You ground yourself against him as he kissed you over and over, his long hair falling around your face in a black and red curtain.

With one foreleg, he delicately pushed the handle down and nudged the doors open. Still holding you, he drew your top off over your head, discarding it to one side as he carried you across the room and deposited you onto a massive bed. It bounced and flexed beneath you, and as you looked around you discovered that it was not a bed, but a thick and intricately woven web slung between the two perpendicular walls of the far corner of the room. You leaned back into it, feeling the soft silken strands flex slightly beneath you, and looked up to see Gilvas’ silhouette in the darkness of the room.

The moon shone through an open window to your right, painting fine silver highlights to the gleaming lacquer of his carapace and needle-like legs, and in the moonlight, you saw that he was dripping webbing onto the floor from the gland at the tip of his spider’s abdomen. You knew enough about driders to know that when they got really aroused, they often leaked webbing like this. Male driders did not mate the way many other beings did, but that didn't put you off. You wanted him - his pleasure, his ecstasy, his noises, his joy…

It did make him suddenly nervous though, as if he’d only just realised that you might be expecting him to penetrate you, and with his anatomy, he couldn’t.

“Gilvas?” you asked, reaching up for him where he still loomed hesitantly above you. “Come here… let me take care of you…”

“I…” he began, but he let you draw him down onto the soft, smooth webbing. His legs ended in those dazzlingly sharp points, and he seemed to dance across the webs like a circus performer on a high wire. He lowered himself down atop you and you kissed him again. His hands skated over your hips and he drew the rest of your clothes off to abandon them beside his bed.

Seeking friction, he carefully slid his slick abdomen against your legs and shivered, moaning. “You’re so warm,” he whispered, head bowing forwards as he rested on his elbows, one on either side of your body. “I can’t believe how warm you are… it’s… it…”

“Does it feel good?” you asked, raking your fingers through his long hair and he nodded wordlessly. “Can you roll over?” you asked.

“Oh gods,” he gasped, clearly aroused by the idea, and nodded.

It wasn’t the most elegant manoeuvres, but once he was on his back with his legs curled upwards like a black, clawed hand, you sat in the gap where his one missing leg should have been, and ran your hand over the smoothness of his underbelly. In no time you discovered the slit in his lower body that was leaking slick, pearlescent fluid all over himself.

“Oh!” he yelled, spine curling and legs twitching as you traced your fingertips around the softer inner walls of the slit. Where the rest of his body was cool and hard, there he was almost searingly hot, the inner walls silky and slick. “Oh gods, oh gods… oh gods…” he chanted in time with your motions, his whole body twitching and making the webbing rock beneath him.

The tendons of his neck stood out in glorious contrast beneath the watercolour birthmark as he clenched his jaw and rammed his eyes shut, lost in the sensations. His fingers scrabbled at the web of his bed and he rocked and shivered and arched into your touch as you worked him closer and closer. You knew he was going to make a mess when he came, and you felt your whole body flush hot at the thought of finally getting him to let go of all his tight control and insecurities, to give himself over to the simple, honest pleasure you were offering to give him.

The thought of that was almost enough to make you come yourself, but you focused on him until he growled softly.

“I want…” he began but cut off as you grazed a spot inside him unexpectedly with a fingertip that made him bellow wordlessly. “Fuck…” he hissed when he’d recovered, head lolling back again, and you grinned at the curse on his aristocratic tongue. “Wait…” he panted. “I want… I want to touch you… before I… before you make me…” he growled again in frustration. “I’ll only be able to… to… come once… please… let me…” Hearing him lose control of his words like that in the face of his arousal only made it all the more endearing.

“You can touch me,” you said coyly without changing anything, but when he genuinely snarled, sounding more like a werewolf than a drider, you laughed and leaned closer to him.

His cool fingers dug into your arms as he tugged you tight against his body, pulling you down to lie atop him along the length of his belly and humanoid stomach, and you ground yourself against him for a little relief. His hand slid down your body, down your side, and before you could think, he was pleasuring you. “Let me,” he hissed when you tensed a little, revealing his venomous fangs as a flash of white in the dimness when you tried to pull back to finish him.

“But I wanted to make you come,” you pouted, and he actually laughed at that, four red eyes closing and crinkling softly in the corners with genuine amusement at your disgruntlement.

“Too bad,” he groused. “I want to watch you first.”

“Fair enough,” you grunted as he caught you just so and you rocked against him. “I’m so close…” and you really were. His touch was relentless, demanding your pleasure in return for the sensations you’d just given him.

“I know,” he snarled right in your ear, teeth - the non-venomous ones you hoped - just grazing the shell of your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

And with that, you came unexpectedly hard, crashing into your release and clinging to him. He eased you through it and when you lay panting and spent on his chest, he moved his hand to his mouth and cleaned himself luxuriantly, obviously enjoying the taste of you on his skin.

After that, he seemed softer and more relaxed, and when you’d recovered enough to get your legs back under you and return your attentions to his body, he finally seemed to have allowed himself this connection to another person. His body heaved and rocked rhythmically, his legs knocking nonchalantly against each other as he spasmed and moaned, and as he grew wetter and slicker around your hand, and his inner walls began to clench and shiver in a distinct cadence, you knew he was getting close. He was also giving you the most delicious sounds; gasping and cursing, grunting and even wailing softly at times when you slowed your touches to a barely-there whisper against him.

Eventually though, he began to rock against you in earnest, and you felt his release coming as a rapidly-building wave, gathering momentum until it finally ripped through him like a wildfire. White release gushed from his entrance and covered your hand, rolling down the sleek, shiny carapace to soak into the webbing while his body heaved and convulsed with pleasure. He made no sound, his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure as he gave everything he had to you, his hands gripping the webbing as he released in messy waves all over himself and you.

Finally as the pleasure faded to something gentler and less intense, he lay back, motionless on his bed, muscles completely slack, face soft, breathing quiet.

“Gilvas?”

“Mmm?” he hummed without moving.

“You alright?”

“Mmm.”

Weak and completely spent, he lay there unmoving for a long time while you gently trailed your fingers around his still clenching slit as aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him. Eventually, you wiped your hand clean on the webs beside him and shuffled up to lie beside him. He still looked absolutely exhausted and drained, and you sat there a long time just watching him.

After a very long time, he mustered the energy to open one arm to you and you nuzzled in against his bare shoulder. His breath hissed softly through his slack jaw and he pressed a shy kiss to the top of your head. “See why I wanted… to make you… to make you come first?” he whispered, words heavily slurred and indistinct.

You nodded and shifted to drape your arm across his chest and draw idle patterns over the bare skin of his white torso.

His skin was starkly pale in the moonlight, and as you stared at him, you realised he’d probably relied solely on touch for the whole time you’d been in the room. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jutting collarbone, making him inhale sharply.

He was still too thin, still obviously not taking care of himself properly, but, you thought, if he’d trusted you and let you in to this extent, perhaps you could both take care of each other now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispered after another long while of silence and closeness in the dark.

“Just thinking how good this feels,” you said honestly. “And how I could lie like this forever… Or at least… until you’re ready to go again.”

He snorted, taken off-guard. “Won’t be for a very long while,” he said bashfully. “Driders don’t recover quickly. Not the male ones, anyway.”

“I’m in no rush,” you said, laying your cheek back down on his cool skin and shivering as goosebumps rippled up your body.

He fumbled around on his other side and drew a large blanket up and over his body, careful to avoid the mess on his carapace, and let you snuggle up beneath it.

You’d have to wait for the dawn to go again though, because you were asleep in his arms in minutes.

___

Maybe we'll get to see more of them in the future, but for now, this four-part story is over. Thanks for your comments and enthusiasm for the cranky spooder boy!

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#drider #exophilia #male drider #male drider x reader #drider x reader #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #male monster #gender neutral reader #female reader #(technically - although the reader in this part is gn)

712 notes · View notes

nevervalentines · 3 years

Text

(went looking for) a creation myth [read on ao3 here]

With the Vytal Festival just weeks away, Yang is left looking for answers to questions she is too scared to ask.

***

Yang and Blake, before.

[7k words of a speed run enemies-to-lovers, roughhousing with bladed weapons, and sexually charged hair washing]

Blood is seeping through the fabric of her top, and her tan jacket is gritty with dust. It’s enough to staunch the tacky, rust-colored stain, but only just, and the cut stings with sweat and friction as Yang raises her forearm to run it across her brow.

She slicks her bangs out of her eyes, and reloads her gauntlets with a tight punch at her side, bracing her arms for the recoil as the shells drop into their chambers. Ember Celica is overloud in the sudden quiet of the clearing. Moss-dampened and studded with new spring growth, Emerald Forest is surprisingly silent, as if Yang hadn’t been booking it for her fucking life thirty seconds before.

Then, just there, through the trees – she sees it. Yang’s heart drops, and she risks a step forward, eyes scanning the mulchy cover of dead leaves and underbrush for a trip wire. There’s the potential for anything, from a steel-jawed bear trap to a cartoon-esque snare and net. She really wouldn’t put it past them.

She sees nothing and raises her eyes to scan the trees, finds only the pale underside of the arcing canopy and the gnarl of tangled vines. Grinning, she feels an early flush of victory, a rush of satisfaction that pounds like a second heartbeat. She might actually win this thing; the others be damned.

Bleeding side forgotten, fists held loosely at the ready, she is about to take the final steps toward her target when the metallic click of a safety releasing freezes her in place. Yang winces her eyes closed, breathes out shakily. She feels the mouth of a pistol nuzzle in between her shoulder blades.

Yang knows who it is without turning around. Which is to say: the worst-case scenario. She swallows, hard.

“You don’t want to do this,” she says. At a firmer nudge of the gun against her back, she raises her hands, obedient. “You can just pretend like I was never here.”

“And why would I do that?”

She turns slowly in place, arms still raised above her head, and finds herself face to face with her captor, finds narrowed, golden eyes, Gambol Shroud pointed squarely at her chest. Blake is wrinkling her nose in the way that means she’s biting back a laugh.

“Because you love me?”

Blake bites at her lip, considers. Shrugs. “Maybe. But not enough to let you take our flag.”

“I was so close,” Yang whines. She pivots her head over her shoulder, pouts in the direction of the blue fabric hanging from a flagpole just a few yards away.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Blake says, stepping closer, until the heat of her thigh presses against Yang’s, “you really weren’t. Pyrrha’s had you in her sights since you crossed the creek.”

“Have you considered,” Yang says, flattening her hands against the back of her head in a way that she knows pushes her chest out, in a way that, without fail, means Blake’s eyes will flick down to her cleavage, “that I was just a distraction?”

Blake hesitates for just a second, but it’s a beat too long, and Yang lashes out her leg, timing the strike perfectly with Weiss’s rush from the trees on the far side of the clearing, darting from glyph to glyph, a lightning-crackling Nora close on her heels.

Yang and Blake go down in an undignified heap, and Pyrrha’s shot spears the space she was in just moments before.

The scramble at the base of the flagpole dissolves into an all-out brawl. A petal-blurred Ruby drops from a tree and gamely tackles Weiss, and her subsequent shrill scream makes an entire flock of birds flee their roost from the above canopy.

More players from both teams race into the clearing, skidding through dead leaves and debris, pant legs flecked with creek water and mud, more roughed up than a 50-minute long, single class period game of capture the flag has any right to make them.

From her spot on the ground, the sky wheeling overhead, Yang distantly hopes some people stayed behind to guard their own flag, but the odds aren’t looking good.

At the edge of the tree line, Juane trips one of the exact traps Yang had been wary of, something rigged so quickly and neatly it has to be Ruby’s handiwork, and it hoists him overhead by his ankle. He dangles, looking resigned, sword sliding out of its scabbard and thunking Cardin squarely on the top of his head.

Cardin goes down like a brick.

Juane cheers.

They’re on the same team, but no one seems to remember the red/blue delineations at this point. The flag all but forgotten, Weiss and Nora are facing off against an odd match-up of Ruby and Ren, and Yang tries to clamber off the ground, ready to provide back-up.

But in the split seconds it had taken the feverish mob to descend, Blake has twisted on top of her, and is driving the hilt of Gambol Shroud down towards Yang’s face. Breathing hard, knees hugged tightly at Yang’s waist, she’s all lithe and muscle – completely unlike close quarter sparring with Ruby.

Yang catches her wrists and squeezes, and Blake drops the blade and scabbard, until the two of them are grappling like teenagers, pressed too tight for Yang to feasibly use her gauntlets, just adrenaline-flushed and tangled limbs, Blake’s eyes flashing, mouth open in an unexpected grin.

“If you wanted to wrestle,” Yang says, twisting on her back in the dirt. “We’ve got beds back at the dorm.”

Blake cuts her off with a forearm to her windpipe, presses down. “I want to do it here.”

Yang knows Blake can be playful – has seen her gloat after a long-fought evening of board games, or loopy with lack of sleep after a few too many all-nighters, pulling dry jokes that make Weiss cringe.

But this – the full weight of her levered onto Yang’s chest, bursting into a laugh as Yang’s hips jump, hands and legs meeting in a mishap of strikes and punches that would make Glynda weep – feels so young. It’s like the tether that tugs at Blake, forces her eyes over her shoulder, knots her brow with worry, has been cut free. Like just for a moment, just for now, it’s only the two of them tangled in the sun-dappled clearing.

They manage to roll to their feet, and Yang shakes her hair out of her face, cocks her fists loosely in front of her chin. Gestures Blake forward.

“Let’s see how nicely you play without your toys, Belladonna.”

Blake’s mouth pulls tight, and she drops into a crouch, leaving Gambol Shroud half-buried in the leaves.

Despite the weight of it, Yang barely remembers Ember Celica exists. It’s been an extension of her own body since her first years at Signal, but suddenly she’s much more preoccupied with how to best get both of Blake’s hands back on her.

“Yang,” Blake says. She flashes teeth. “Stop stalling.”

Behind them, Ruby and Ren are gamely losing, and Pyrrha melts out of the trees, cutting Juane down from the branch with a smile and a well-placed spear throw, catching him before he can hit the ground. All the partners had been split onto opposing teams, but Pyrrha leverages him gently to his feet anyway, backing up a few steps before gesturing for him to challenge.

Cheek smushed into the forest floor, Cardin has begun to drool.

With the full weight of Blake’s attention on her, Yang feels that same second-heartbeat-flush, better than any almost-victory. It’s a feeling she has been careful not to examine too closely for fear of what she will find.

They’ve been partners now for almost two full semesters, and she’s spent too much of it avoiding stating the obvious – avoiding the thing building in between them as if averted eyes will stop the pot from boiling over.

The few slip ups she chalks up to chance, to hormones, to a laundry list of excuses that Blake’s own silence seems to affirm.

It’s working, she tells herself. It’s working, it’s working.

Hair a tousled ripple down her back, Blake’s black cravat had dislodged at some point during the game, leaving her neck bare, skin shining with sweat, glistening in the hollow of her throat. She flicks her bangs out of her eyes and tenses under Yang’s gaze, firming her jaw until the muscle pops, half-smiles.

If Yang didn’t know any better, she would think Blake is enjoying this.

Blake moves on the offensive first, and it catches Yang off-guard, forcing her to step back to dodge a flurry of quick jabs before taking a fist squarely to the jaw. Blake flinches harder than Yang when she lands the hit, immediately backing off.

“It’s okay,” Yang murmurs. Her aura absorbs the punch, and she can feel her semblance simmer, heat lighting under her skin like the kiss of a match against a gas burner. “You can even go harder next time.”

Blake rolls her eyes, but acquiesces.

Even sparring, Blake is careful not to touch her hair – and part of Yang wants to tell her to stop taking it easy, to grab it, pull it. She wants to know what it feels like when Blake plays dirty.

Inevitably, always, Yang comes out on top, breathing hard, the both of them breathless with laughter – unsure what to do with her victory. She knows both of their aura levels are sinking, and Ruby – all but fleeing from Weiss across the clearing – has dropped dangerously low.

When a shrill whistle interrupts the scramble – the flag still dangling untouched, she and Blake immediately deflate, the fight going out of them as easy as it came. Yang heaves a noise of exasperation, drops her forehead onto Blake’s chest. When she lifts her head, Blake’s arms have wrapped loosely around her back.

“Call it a draw?” Yang says, digs her chin hard into Blake’s sternum. “I pretty much had you.”

“Nice try,” Blake says. Her words reverberate in her chest, and Yang feels every moment of their conception, the slight intake of breath into her lungs, the buzz of them as they carry through her throat.

Professor Port’s voice is like a bucket of cold water. He’s standing at the edge of the wood, brandishing a silver whistle, looking at them with ill-disguised exasperation.

“Class,” he says, “I believe the directive was to steal the other team’s flag, not to scrap like children on a playground.”

“Who won?” Weiss pipes up. She’s scraping her hair back into a neat ponytail, standing over a prone Ruby who must have fallen, and has wisely chosen to stay down.

“Everyone lost,” Port says, cheerily. “Back to the school. After that display, I don’t trust you all out here after dark.”

Despite the game’s failure, he seems in good spirits, clapping Juane on the back, and chiding Pyrrha about helping the opposing team mid competition. As punishment, Juane is saddled with Cardin, likely concussed, and directed to help him back to the infirmary.

Hauling herself off the ground, brushing clinging soil off of elbows, picking leaves out of her hair, Yang reaches for Gambol Shroud without thinking. It’s half-submerged in the close-knit groundcover, and she untangles it from curling tendrils of green, robotically sheathing the blade back into the blunt scabbard.

Only after, does she freeze, halfway to her feet. It’s an unspoken taboo to handle other huntresses’ weapons, certainly not without express permission, and here she had done it so casually, tactless.

But Blake, one arm stretched over her head, shoulder muscles rippling, doesn’t bat an eye. She accepts it from Yang gratefully, fingers brushing as it passes between them. She slings it over her back, and reaches toward Yang, pulls a twig free of her hair.

Wordless, they head toward the group, Yang trying to gauge if she’s going to have to piggy-back Ruby to the dorm room. Still lying prone, Weiss is poking at her with the toe of a boot.

It’s only then, so brief she almost misses it, that Blake reaches between them, brushes her fingers over the cuff of Ember Celica. It feels like the answer to a question Yang hadn’t known how to ask, and the last of the fight, the tension she didn’t know she was carrying, coiling at the top of her spine, ebbs entirely.

They fall into step easily, automatically, and together reach down to help Ruby off the ground. Like a top-heavy punching bag, Ruby lists once she’s on her feet, limbs weighted with exhaustion.

Though Yang reaches out, it’s Blake who steadies her, one hand brushing Ruby’s bangs out of her eyes.

“Reunited at last,” Yang says, laughs at Weiss’s pinched expression. “Can’t believe that game had the audacity to tear us in two.”

“Shut up,” Weiss grumbles, but she’s smiling, and half-heartedly accepts Yang’s high-five. Yang bullies them into a bear hug before they join the others, an eight-legged jumble of girl-sweat and protesting laughter, leaning so hard on one another that when they begin to fall, they topple in turn, like dominoes.

***

After Port’s dismissal, they troop back to the Beacon dorms leisurely. They have an hour of free period before dinner, and no one in seems to be in any rush to get to the dining hall, content to nurse bruises and grievances, ribbing each other good naturedly, flags forgotten.

Ren is quietly chastising Nora about what looks suspiciously like a human bite mark wetting the sleeve of his tunic, and Juane brings up the rear of the group, quietly sulking, a blessedly out-of-it Cardin’s arm slung over his shoulder.

The wooded forest bleeds into a scrubby grassland, and they wade through waist-high wheatgrass as the spires of Beacon come into view, dodging prickly burs and seedpods that cling stubbornly to their socks and hemlines.

Yang presses her palm to her side. It comes away tacky with old blood, and she grimaces. Her aura had strained to heal it, skin stitching together to staunch the flow, but the last of the fight had drained her reserves, and it reopened easily in the struggle. Catching the movement out of the corner of her eye, Blake grabs for Yang’s hand, frowns down at her skin like a disgruntled palm reader.

“How did that happen?”

What she doesn’t say, plainly written on the landscape of her face in a language Yang is just learning to read is: is that from me?

“My own fault, actually,” Yang says. “We really don’t need to get into it.”

She ignores the stinging pain in favor of Blake’s fingers, stroking carefully over the dips of her knuckles.

“She fell out of a tree early in the strategizing process,” Weiss says. She’s snuck up on them, appearing at Yang’s elbow, face drawn with disdain. Her voice lilts, obviously mocking. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Weiss. I’m just getting the lay of the land, Weiss. Those branches aren’t too thin, Weiss.” She sniffs. “You could have broken your neck.”

“See,” Yang says, slinging an arm around Weiss’s shoulder, pulling her against her side, “she does care.”

“I didn’t say it would be a bad thing,” she says. But Yang doesn’t miss the way she turns her face into her casual embrace, her hand coming up to tug at the back of Yang’s jacket affectionately, clumsy, like it’s an action she’s unfamiliar with.

Blake smiles, ducks her chin. “Don’t say that. I like having her around.”

Yang quiets her internal rejoicing to a silent cheer. She feels, helplessly, like a child picking petals from a wilting stem. She loves me. She loves me not.

She beams, bumping her shoulder against Blake’s. “From Blake, that’s practically a marriage proposal.”

Cheeks flushing, Blake tucks a strand of hair behind one ear, looks away. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Who’s getting married?” This from Ruby, fending off an assault from Weiss who is trying to pat down a stubborn cowlick in the tangled mess of her hair.

“No one,” says Weiss. “You need a haircut.”

“Me and Blake,” Yang says, cheerfully. “She was the one to propose and everything, it was super embarrassing.”

“Congrats,” Ruby says, batting at Weiss’s hands.

“Long time coming, really,” Yang says. She smiles at Blake. “I’m picturing a summer wedding.”

Blake rolls her eyes, but smiles. A rare one, with teeth. Yang almost stops walking, just to take it in.

Clearly over their antics, Weiss lengthens her stride to catch up with Pyrrha, Ruby trailing behind.

It leaves Blake and Yang alone, shoulder to shoulder, picking their away along the muddy, tire-rutted path that meanders toward the eastern portion of the Beacon grounds. In the distance, the colorful, striped tents of the Vytal Festival fairgrounds are just visible, the encampment half-pitched in preparation for the festival, mere weeks away.

The skeleton of a mostly-assembled Ferris Wheel crests over the treetops, like the pale, bleached bones of a Goliath, its mechanical frame at odds with the verdant landscape.

“Excited?” Yang asks. She bumps her shoulder against Blake’s, jerks her chin toward the pennants lethargically drooping in the stagnant spring heat.

“Hardly,” Blake says. She peeks at Yang out of the corner of her eye. “The tournament might be interesting, at least.”

“All the people, the spectacle, the fried festival food,” Yang reels off, ticking up her fingers, “it sounds like your –”

“—worst nightmare,” Blake says.

Yang laughs. “Maybe so, but,” she shrugs, “meeting new people, smashing their faces in, it’s the huntress way.”

“Now that,” Blake says, “I can get behind.”

Ahead of them, Weiss seems to be trying to engage Pyrrha in an in-depth analysis of the capture of flag bout, looking seconds away from pulling out a notebook and taking notes on every one of Pyrrha’s absentminded observations.

“This is painful to watch,” Yang says, gleefully. “If Pyrrha touches her, she’s going to –”

Pyrrha sets a hand at the small of Weiss’s back, guides her around a rock pitting the dirt path.

“Oh, there it is,” Blake says. She’s actually biting her lower lip to hold in laughter, eyes squinting with mirth. “Someone check the girl’s pulse.”

Like this, sun-lit and flushed, wearing her in-on-the-joke smile, Blake is radiant. She’s a little roughed up from the fight, ribbon a dark, striped wreath around her forearms, her top mud-streaked, the single button of her vest undone.

Yang is enamored. She offers her an arm to use as a crutch, and Blake leans into, buries a laugh in her shoulder.

Ahead of them, Weiss seems to be staggering her way through a conversation about semblances, ponytail swishing. She only comes up to Pyrrha’s shoulder, and when Pyrrha pauses, blithely rubbing at a scrape of dirt on Weiss’s cheeks. Yang can see Weiss’s face blush and burn, even from ten feet away.

Ruby, lagging a few steps behind, looks chuffed to be the most intelligible person in the vicinity.

“Why don’t you look at me like that?” Yang murmurs. They’re winding their way through a spindly grove of peach trees, the last surviving vestiges of the orchards that used to grow on Beacon’s loamy, river-rich soil.

Unkept, the trunks fork and spur, rough bark splitting like over-risen bread, papering off in grey-brown patches. This early in the season, the fruit is small and green, but Blake pauses under the heavy boughs anyway, tilts her face upward.

“What?” she says, studying the waxy, canoe-shaped leaves, veins bleeding from the midrib in furrows. “Like I’m going into cardiac arrest?”

“No,” Yang says, teeth parting around a laugh, “like you adore me.”

Blake gestures Yang forward, touches a palm to her cheek, guides Yang to look up to the branches above where, inexplicably, Blake has spotted a single ripe peach.

Without needing to be asked, Yang knits her fingers at her belt buckle like a basket, offers it to Blake who leverages herself up to grasp a branch, just high enough to pluck the peach from the stem. She lands lightly on her feet, offers it first to Yang, who cups the fuzzed, sunrise-bodied fruit in her palms.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough,” Blake says.

Reaching out, she lifts Yang’s hands, brings the peach to her own mouth, and takes a bite. Juice dribbles from her lips, wets Yang’s knuckles, the vessel of her palm. Blake does not meet her eyes.

A world away, the dinner bell clangs on campus, and the sound reaches them across the grounds. From just ahead, Ruby yells for them to catch up.

Yang’s sweating again by the time they enter the Beacon courtyard, the sun creeping west across the sky. Already, the moon, in fragments, hangs low over the horizon like a coin toss, illusory and half-spun. Heat shimmers off the gray cobblestones, a sun-stoked haze that blurs the geometry of fountains to a mirage, and she wriggles out of her jacket, stripping down to her orange tank, hissing when the rotation of her shoulder pulls at her side.

Blake looks at her, and immediately cuts her eyes away. Looks back, lingers. She has an affinity for Yang’s freckled shoulders, has said as much, and Yang exposes them around her as much as possible.

Between them, Blake’s fingers brush the back of Yang’s hand. She thinks, for a moment, that Blake might take her hand in her own, and the idea alone leaves her with a wanting so keen it embarrasses her.

It’s compulsive, chemical, that Blake’s presence pulls her attention like gravity.

A touch curls at the inside of her elbow, and Blake tugs Yang gently toward her, sidestepping a water feature that looms, overlarge and obvious.

“You were about to walk into a fountain,” Blake murmurs. One of the loops of her bow flicks, a smile ghosts the corner of her lips.

Yang jerks her chin up, begins to apologize, and Blake shakes her head. “As fun as that might have been, I don’t want to miss dinner because I’m drying you off.”

“I think I could have handled it on my own,” Yang says, leans into Blake’s touch.

“What kind of betrothed would I be,” Blake says, releasing her elbow and moving toward the mouth of the dining hall, “if I left you wet and alone in your time of need?” She only spares Yang a glance before stepping out of the final slash of the sunlight, into the shadow of the doorway.

Frozen, Yang roots herself into the flagstone – tries to parse apart if Blake could have possibly intended that as – if she would have ever said something so – and no, right? No.

“Blake – ” she says, helpless. But Blake is already disappearing inside with a light laugh, leaving Yang to flounder in her wake.

In the early evening sun, buffered by classmates on either side, Yang stares after her, desperately trying to do the math, imagines petals shedding like snowfall.

It’s Blake who offers, which surprises each of them, but most of all Yang.

They’re scattered around the dorm room after dinner and a short stint in the library, Weiss pulling her pajama top over her head, Ruby dangling upside down from the top bunk, while Blake smooths a bandage over Yang’s ribs.

In just a sports bra, sitting on the edge of her desk, Blake’s hands trailing over her side, Yang feels like she’s lost control of the situation. Blake mistakes her shuddering breath for pain, and winces in sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” She presses down the adhesive of the bandage with her finger gingerly, nails skirting the rungs of Yang’s ribs, prodding the skin as she checks for inflammation. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

“All good,” Yang says, strained. She’s trying to decide if flexing her arms, like, only a little bit, is going to be a dead giveaway. “Take your time, really.”

Across the room, Weiss scoffs. Yang tries to pin her with a glare, but Weiss evades, busies herself tidying her discarded clothes from the day. Weiss must be the only person in the world who folds her shirts before she puts them in the dirty clothes hamper. It causes Ruby endless amusement, and she swivels her head to watch.

Blake’s hands are cool, and Yang can smell the citrus-perfume of her soap, the soft cotton of her t-shirt rubbing against Yang’s bare shoulder as she leans closer to survey her handiwork.

“I think you’re going to live,” she says. She meets Yang’s eyes glancingly before her gaze drops down, hovers somewhere around Yang’s mouth.

Ruby clambers from the top bunk and comes up on her feet, shaking her hair out of her eyes. Weightless with static from the thick, wool blankets, it frizzes and wisps, too short for a ponytail, and too long to do anything but make her look like a disgruntled miniature pony.

Pulling away from Yang’s side, Blake turns to Ruby thoughtfully. Yang, immediately missing the warmth of her, falls back onto the desk, her muscles popping gratefully with the pull of the stretch. She examines the pulpy, drop-tile ceiling studiously, trying to calm her heartrate, embarrassed at the rush of longing Blake always seems to leave in her wake.

“You know, I could cut it for you, if you wanted,” Blake says. This to Ruby, whose eyes go wide, a little shy, a little pleased.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Yang turns her head, grinning again, shrugging the melancholy off like shedding a second skin. “Now this, I’ve got to see.”

***

Blake drags a desk chair from the bedroom, positions it in front of the sink. She’s spinning a small pair of silver scissors on her pointer finger when she ushers Ruby into the bathroom, and Yang and Weiss troop in as well, like it’s a given.

With the four of them crammed in the tiny bathroom, it’s a tight fit, and Yang leans with her back against the door, Weiss perched on the edge of the tub.

“I didn’t realize I would actually have an audience,” Blake says, quietly, but she isn’t successful in hiding her smile, mouth turning up at the corners.

The sink is running, and she dips two fingers under the flow, waits for it to warm, flicks water in Ruby’s face just to tease.

Shoulders relaxing, Ruby barely grumbles as Blake pushes her gently down into the chair, tilting her head back until her hair wets under the faucet’s flow.

“Too hot?” Blake asks. She cups water in her palms, diverting it until it wets Ruby’s hair to its roots, slicking her bangs out of her face with careful fingers.

Ruby shakes her head, bare feet swinging over the tiles. “S’nice,” she slurs, lashes fluttering against her cheek. “Mom used to do this, remember?” This to Yang, one eye cracking to look at her before closing again.

Arms crossed, Yang nods. “I do.”

Her voice sounds strange, swollen, even to her. She clears her throat, looks to Blake who is looking back at her, gaze soft and steady. The mirror over the sink is fogging with heat, and Yang is stupidly glad not to see her own expression reflected in the glass.

The memory is blurry with overuse, and she feels selfish for hoarding it, something she and Ruby talk about so rarely – the short window of domesticity, the four of them, together.

Blake must sense her discomfort and leans over Ruby, carding through her hair gently, warm water swirling down the drain.

“We’ll just do a trim, okay?” She tilts her head, considering. “Just enough to get your bangs out of your eyes.”

From her spot on the lip of the tub, Weiss is watching the them with open interest, dressed in her slouchiest pajamas, hair loose around her shoulders.

Blake looks back at her. “What do you think?”

Weiss looks surprised to have been asked to weigh in, and shifts unsteadily, pinning her hands under the backs of her thighs, lips tucked into her mouth.

“It will look nice,” Weiss ventures. Then, unsteadily, like she’s unsure if that’s the right answer: “Fine, I mean. It will look fine.”

“Weiss thinks I look nice,” Ruby says, dreamily, eyes still closed.

Yang laughs. “Anything to stop you from going into fights blind should do the trick.”

Blake is methodical and careful, her movements practiced, and Yang watches her hands closely, fascinated by the routine of her gestures. Her long fingers are sure as she brushes out Ruby’s hair, fixing the lengths of hair between two fingers, snipping, tendrils of dyed red spiraling to the bathroom tile.

“You’re good at that,” Yang says, careful not to pose it as a question, even if her curiosity is clear.

“After I left home,” Blake says, tilting her head to frown at Ruby’s hair, thoughtful, “there weren’t places where – well, there weren’t many places that would be willing to serve Faunus, let alone cut our hair.”

Focused on her task, Blake fits two fingers under Ruby’s chin, lifts until she’s staring straight ahead. She hums, approving. When she began to talk, Yang, Blake and Weiss each stilled, incremental, like curious children unwilling to startle a flighty bird.

It’s rare for Blake to offer much from before, even after all these months, and Yang squirrels away every piece of information she manages to glean, coveted closely in a well-hidden corridor in her chest.

“It was a necessity at first, we were moving around a lot, but I like it now,” Blake says. “It’s soothing.” She scrubs her hand under the fall of Ruby’s hair, appraising her work. “I wish we had some clippers, you would look really good with a, like, undercut.”

Tilting her head to look back at Blake, Ruby grins. “Yeah?’

“Oh, yeah,” Blake says. “Very edgy.”

Ruby’s eyes flutter closed again and she leans back into Blake’s hands, accepting the easy touch, pleased.

Watching her like this, the baby round of Ruby’s cheeks, her deep-set eyes, so like Summer, Yang’s heart pangs and pulls. She looks so young, and it’s been so long since she’s seen Ruby find comfort and closeness in groups like this. At Signal, she was always worlds apart.

Too young to hang out with Yang and her friends, and too buried in her comics and starry-eyed dreams of far-flung heroism to mesh easily with the other kids her age. Weiss is watching, too, almost hungry. She is starved, Yang has come to realize, in similar ways – for family, for acceptance, for the way Blake look back to ask her opinion, listening intently when Weiss ventures an answer.

“Okay,” Blake says, steps back. “All set, I think.”

Ruby pops up out of her seat, swipes a hand through the mirror’s condensation to look at her reflection, tilting her head this way and that, before grinning, bright.

“It’s perfect.” Then, shyly, “thank you, Blake.”

“Anytime,” Blake says. “We can pick up dye next time we’re in Vale, recolor the ends.”

Yang groans. “Don’t get her started, she’s been threatening more drastic dye jobs since grade school. I’ve had to talk her out of lime green more times than I can count.”

“The red suits you,” Weiss says, pushing off of her perch to more closely examine Ruby’s bangs. Ruby obediently stops fidgeting, submits to Weiss’s hands, but not before shaking her wet head like a dog, sending water droplets flying.

Aghast, Weiss hisses a chastisement, but cards her hands through her hair, all the same.

“I could cut yours,” Blake says to Weiss. Appraises her, head tilted. “It’s getting long.”

Weiss looks shocked at the sudden kindness, turning a gradient of shades, from a light pink to a dark red the longer Blake looks at her.

“Oh, no,” she says, haltingly. “I have a standing appointment at an Atlas salon but,” she trails off.

Blake nods, that tiny smile still evident on the puzzle-box mystery of her mouth.

Ruby looks on with interest, pokes at Weiss’s cheek, but knows better than to comment.

With a final thanks, the two of them troop out of the bathroom in a snippy caravan, Weiss already haranguing Ruby about an assignment due in the morning, Ruby loudly asking Weiss if she’ll brush her hair before homework, anyhow.

Their departure leaves a vacuum, a pocket of silence, just Yang and Blake, who both seem to realize how close they are standing at the same time, all excuses having fled the room on the heels the others.

“Thank you for doing that,” Yang says, quietly, she reaches out hesitantly and takes Blake’s hand, rubs her thumb across her knuckles. “It’s nice not to do all the mothering, for once.” She shakes her head. “I tried to cut her hair once, must have been about 13. Dad almost had to shave her whole head.”

“She would have loved it though,” Blake says. She doesn’t pull her hand away.

Yang laughs. “Yeah, probably.” She steps closer, emboldened by their hands clasped between them, by the way Blake tilts her whole body toward her, magnetic.

“It was really nothing,” Blake says. “Ruby restitched, like, four pairs of my leggings last week, anyway.”

“It was sweet of you to offer a trim to Weiss, too.” Yang lowers her voice, though the other two are well out of earshot, having closed the bathroom door behind them. “I don’t think she was ready for you to send her into a full-fledged sexual identity crisis.”

Blake throws her head back in a laugh, exposing the long line of her throat, cheeks dimpling. “Oh, no. That’s what Pyrrha is for.” A beat. “I don’t think I’m her type anyway.”

“How?” Yang blurts, clumsy and unthinking, tries to amend it with – “I think you’re everyone’s type,” which really just digs the hole deeper.

Blake looks at her steadily, in that awful way she does, and shoves a little bit at Yang’s shoulder, bullies her toward the chair.

“You should let me do you next,” she says. She must misinterpret Yang’s expression – which flatlines at an alarming speed, elevator music starting to play behind her eyes – and hurries to correct herself. “I mean, not a cut. I know how you feel about your hair, but I could wash it?”

“Wash it?” Yang looks at the sink, back to Blake. The air in the bathroom seems to be getting thinner, and she can’t stop looking at Blake’s forearms, the flex of them as she toys with the scissors, running her thumb lightly over the tapered point.

“You’ve still got leaves in it from earlier,” Blake says, words taut with amusement, “and if you lift your arms over your head, you’re going to undo all my hard work anyway.”

The cut is mostly healed, barely a pale scar at this point, and they both know it. Yang wonders how long they will continue to run round these excuses.

It’s working, it’s working, it’s – “Let me touch you,” Blake says. She presses down on Yang shoulder, guides her toward the chair. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

The chair creaks under Yang’s weight, and her outstretched legs butt up against the opposite bathroom wall. To maneuver around her, Blake has to step between her legs, her hips pressed tight against the inside of Yang’s bare thighs.

Unsure, Yang leans her head back, feels the porcelain cold against the back of her neck. “Like this?”

“Just like that.”

Blake turns on the faucet, and the lull of running water, the warmth of it, is enough to make Yang drowsy and pliant, hands clasped obediently on her lap.

“I love your hair,” Blake says, quiet, confessional. She runs her hands through it, pulls gently, the sensation sending tingles to Yang’s scalp. Yang’s eyes close, and she breathes out through her nose, shifting unsteadily in the chair.

She hears the plastic click of a shampoo bottle, and lavender perfumes the air. Yang thinks of gardens, of soft-petaled flowers, of sunlight and checkered blankets.

“We should have a picnic,” she murmurs. Her muscles feel putty-soft, and Blake’s hands, slick with water and suds, are drawing tiny circles under the fall of her hair, thumbs pressing ecstatically into the corded muscle at the base of her neck.

There’s laughter, barely hidden, in Blake’s voice. “Come again?”

“A picnic.” Yang doesn’t open her eyes. “Just you and me.”

“Did I knock you too hard in the head today?” Blake asks. “Give you a concussion?” Her fingers slip up to prod at Yang’s temples before her fingers firm, massaging there. Yang groans. For her sake, Blake pretends not to hear it.

“I’m not concussed,” Yang says. Against the back of her eyelids, there’s a constellation of color. Blake sluices warm water through her hair, washing out the last of the shampoo. Yang’s hand ventures from her lap, hooks her fingers in the soft cotton pocket of Blake’s shorts. “I just like you.”

She still doesn’t open her eyes, worried that if she does, reality will solidify, transport her away from the dreamy-liminal of this unspoken space, Blake’s hands in her hair, Blake’s body warm against her thighs.

“I like you, too.”

“Actually, I think you said you loved me earlier.”

Blake laughs. “I didn’t. You said I loved you.”

Yang does open her eyes now, finds Blake startlingly close, her gold-flecked eyes, the laugh lines that crease the corners of her mouth like the seams of a love letter, folded over, then folded over again. She steps out of the bracket of Yang’s legs to fetch a towel. Yang reaches to take it, but Blake pushes her hands away, preferring to towel at Yang’s wet hair herself, leaning across her body, her chest pressing against Yang’s shoulder.

Embarrassed now, Yang squirms, but submits to the attention, lets Blake dab away beaded water at her hairline, droplets dripping into her ears, wetting the shoulders of her t-shirt.

“But you were right,” Blake says, so matter a fact, Yang almost doesn’t understand her meaning. Comprehension pales in comparison to the sheen of water on Blake’s hands, her wrists, as she wipes them dry, her hair spilling long and dark around her shoulders, the ends wet where she had leaned over the sink. Blake tosses the towel underhand toward the hamper behind the door, reinserts herself between Yang’s legs. “I do love you. I really do. And yes.”

“Yes?” Yang asks, dazed, still stuck halfway inside the feeling of Blake’s body, pressed up firmly against her own.

“Yes to the picnic,” Blake says. “Just the two of us.”

She loves me.

Yang shifts to prop herself upright against the body of the sink and frames Blake’s hips in her hands, guiding her firmly into the V of her legs. Blake concedes, arms wrapping around Yang’s neck, petting through damp hair. The hem of her shirt scrunches under Yang’s fingertips, slipping up to reveal the unblemished hollow of her hip, the skin of her sides, goosepimpling under the duress of Yang’s touch.

“We should do that thing again,” Yang says, a wish, a confession. Said aloud, she’s worried, like memory, she’ll bleed away the magic of unspoken things, but it only seems to strengthen the energy between them, the accumulated weight of all that they never talk about.

Blake plays dumb, but she’s smiling, ducking close even as she asks, “what thing?”

Her breath is warm against Yang’s ear, and she presses her mouth just there, against the round of Yang’s cheek.

“Close,” Yang says. She exhales, grip tightening.

Blake drags her lips to Yang’s jaw. Then to the dimple of her chin.

“Closer.”

Blake kisses her, proper, all it takes is a tilt of her head, nose nudging into the plush-round of Yang’s cheek. They both breath twin sighs of relief, like the pressure of playing coy has been alleviated in a single moment. Blake’s hands knot in Yang’s hair, fingers threading.

Yang smiles, murmurs: “just like that.”

It isn’t their first kiss, but it’s close. New enough that Yang still isn’t used to the shape of Blake’s mouth, the rhythm of her kisses, or the taste of her breath. New enough that this alone is enough to alight a heady, perfect rush, the thrill of two whole, perfect things slotting into place.

Her hands slide to the small of Blake’s back, splaying wide across the ridge of her spine, and Blake whines low in her throat, tilting her head until their mouths catch in full, her teeth scraping against Yang’s bottom lip.

Blake swings her leg over Yang’s hip, then the other, settles on her lap. The warmth of her body like a weighted blanket, her chest pushed flush to Yang’s. Pulling back, breaths ragged, they survey each other, eyes bright.

Blake drops a kiss on the bridge of Yang’s nose. Again, on her mouth. Yang tilts her chin up, submits. Nods lazily into another kiss, rolls her tongue into Blake’s mouth.

They don’t talk about it, but they never do.

In the crowded, humid heat of the bathroom, the silence is enough, both smelling like the same shampoo, like lavender, trading kisses until their mouths are slick and pink, until Blake has a strawberry bite under the collar of her t-shirt, and there is no excuse they can make to Ruby and Weiss to explain the lost time.

Exiting the bathroom feels like stepping through a portal – the air of the bedroom is stale and cold, and tastes like the bitter-metallic spit of the cranky window unit that churns, futile and constant.

They shouldn’t have worried. Ruby and Weiss are passed out on Weiss’s bottom bunk, tilted into each other, Weiss’s head leaned up into Ruby’s chest, a textbook open on her lap.

Blake smiles at them, soft, and Yang presses a finger to her lips. Sound asleep, neither stirs when Yang removes the book or when she shifts both of Weiss’s legs to the bed, pulls the lip of the comforter up over their bodies.

Weiss does move then, but only to turn her face into Ruby’s throat, fingers curling into the sleeve of her shirt.

Across the room, Yang watches Blake walk through the final stages of her night time routine. Removing her rings, one-by-one, setting them into a china bowl at her bedside. Toeing off her socks – because anyone who sleeps in socks is a serial killer, yang – and turning back the cool underside of her covers.

Yang, suddenly shy, mythical, waits for an invitation.

“It’s only fair,” Blake whispers. She shifts over to make space against the hollow of her body. “Turn off the light.”

Yang does, the room plunged to darkness, and she feels that little-kid thrill in the few steps it takes her to cross to the bed. By the time she reaches it, she fears Blake will already be gone, leaving her only with under-the-bed monsters and grasping hands.

She shivers into the sheets, and it’s Blake’s warmth that accepts her, slinging a long, bare leg over her hip, claiming her cheek with a warm palm, stroking her bangs out of her eyes.

“We need to talk about it,” Yang whispers.

She can see Blake’s eyes gleam in the darkness, a flat sheen. Yang swallows, wriggles closer until she can insinuate her thigh between Blake’s legs, suddenly desperate to be close. She would swallow her whole if she could, sink themselves inside of one another, like nesting dolls, like palms cupped in prayer.

Yang’s eyes adjust in the half-dark in the time it takes Blake to answer, moonlight shredding through the parted curtains. When Blake opens her mouth, the wet of her mouth refracts light, the uncurling of her tongue.

“I know,” Blake says, voice small.

Their hips-stomach-breasts bully into one another, until every breath is a part of a cycle.

“If we don’t, we’re just going to keep colliding until something breaks.”

“I know,” Blake says, again. “There’s just so much I haven’t told you yet.”

Yang runs her hands up and down Blake’s side, slips her palm under the hem of her shirt to feel the blanket-heat of her bare skin.

“We have time,” she hushes. She tilts in, her lips find the corner of Blake’s mouth, press there. Retreat. “After the Vytal festival, then. We can have our picnic. We’ll talk about all of it.”

Blake nods, nose pressing into Yang’s. She giggles, readjusts, turns her mouth into Yang’s cheek. “Okay. After the festival.”

Pinkies twined under the covers, they seal it with a kiss. Blake nods more kisses against her mouth, slips a tongue behind her teeth, until the taste of her lingers well into Yang’s dreams.

Yang won’t remember falling asleep.

#janurwby #bumbleby #my beacon days prompt fill got a little out of hand #my writing #rwby #here's to overtly intimate hair washing

158 notes · View notes

tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

Commissioned by @missusk

Uzui Tengen x Reader/OC

- After a grueling training session with Tengen, you’re hurt badly. Granted, you and Tengen don’t always get along, but he seems to feel guilty... Amongst other things. -

warnings: none

words: 3.5k

Above you, the winds carry the song of the heavens. Birds join in with their choir, their melody floating with the gentle breeze. It’s almost too peaceful, too perfect, and as you stare up at the cerulean sky above, you realize how utterly tiny you are.

“You’re doing it again,” Mitsuri says, a light giggle following her words. “If I didn’t know you any better, then I’d say that you’re thinking of someone.”

Shifting your attention to her, you scoff. “Please, Mitsuri, don’t make me laugh.”

The smile playing on Mitsuri’s face is all too gentle. She’s always been that way, so delicate and beautiful, and you find yourself awestruck at her genuine being. “I know love when I see it, Nanami,” she tells you. “It’s my job, after all! I’m not called the Love Pillar for nothing.”

You’re not quite sure what she’s getting at. “Mitsuri,” you start, your brows knitting together, “what are you even talking about?”

Tapping her cheek with a slender finger, she flashes you a knowing look. “Oh, you know, a certain hulking man. One that’s tall and devilishly handsome.”

Oh, here it comes again.

You roll your eyes at her suggestive tone. “Don’t you even think about it,” you warn.

Mitsuri’s petal lips purse into a pout. “I just want you to be happy,” she mopes. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he has feelings-“

“Good day, ladies!” Kyojuro’s voice suddenly booms.

Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Kyojuro step out of the manor with Tengen right behind him. The golden rays of light catch the fiery strands of his hair as he crosses the engawa to where you and Mitsuri sit.

“You’re looking as lovely as ever!” Kyojuro says. He flashes the two of you a bright smile.

Just like always, your own mouth mimics his. Kyojuro’s always been so sweet to you, helping you out in your time of need and always offering a comforting shoulder. Besides Mitsuri, he’s easily the greatest friend you’ve made in the corps. “And you’re looking as dashing as ever!” you compliment.

Shifting your eyes behind him, you notice Tengen smirking at you. The glint is his stare is teasing; your own smile falls flat at the sight of him. Amongst the entirety of the Pillars, Tengen is the one you get along with the least. He’s too much of a pompous asshole for you’re liking. He only goes on about how flamboyant he is, how great his fighting is, how much he kicks ass, yadda, yadda, yadda. Frankly, it gets on your nerves. He’s too much of a dunderhead.

He doesn’t necessarily like you either – or so it seems. He teases you constantly, openly flirts with you, all of that stuff; he knows it pisses you off, rightly so, and he does it nearly every time he sees you. Your pain is apparently his pleasure. If the other two weren’t around you, you’d love nothing more than to tell him to kindly fuck off.

“What, where’s my hello?” Tengen drawls. His ruby eyes hold a challenge; he’s just waiting for you to go off on him.

“I’ll say hello whenever I’m happy to see you,” you tell him, a mockingly sweet smile joining your honeyed words.

Tengen scoffs, his meaty arms crossing themselves over his chest. “Don’t you think you’re cute.”

“I’m adorable.” You swiftly turn back to Mitsuri. “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

You don’t miss the way Mitsuri’s eyes twinkle. “Actually,” she says, her voice sly, “I was going to help Kyojuro out with something. Why don’t you and Tengen occupy each other until we get back?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head at the mere suggestion of spending alone time with Tengen. Hell, you’d even let a demon eat you before you agreed to such nonsense!

“Yeah!” Kyojuro chimes in, seemingly not picking up on your growing anxiety. “The two of you could train! There’s no better way of bonding than helping each other grow stronger!”

“Oh yeah, baby. I like the sound of that,” Tengen says as he draws closer. The way he approaches you is much like how a predator stalks its prey, lithe hips swaying with each step. The foxy grin on his face makes your insides turn into mush. As he finally comes to a stop directly behind you, you can’t help but stare at how his ruby eyes practically glow in the sun. “Don’t you wanna fight me, Nanami?”

Clapping her hands, Mitsuri jumps off the engawa. “Great! You two have fun! We’ll be back later!”

“Wait, Mitsuri-“ you say after her, but she quickly pulls Kyojuro after her and scurries away.

Tengen’s hand clamps down on your shoulder. “What?” he drawls. “You want to spend time with me, don’t you?”

You quickly shrug his shoulder off. “As if.”

He cocks his head. “Not even to kick my ass?”

Damn, he got you there. You’d love to drive his ass into the ground. You know he’s only egging you on, but the idea of finally getting him to shut up for once is way more convincing. “Alright,” you say, stepping off the engawa, “let’s fight.”

As the two of you venture further into the yard, you can’t help but stare after him. Maybe it’s the lighting, but Tengen almost seems… bigger. His muscles flex with the slightest movements, his shoulders seem wider, his thighs stronger. Your eyes linger a second too long on his ass, but you quickly whip your head away. Stop it, you chide yourself.

Okay, yeah, so Tengen’s an utter ass. However, that doesn’t mean he’s drop dead gorgeous and built like a god. And yeah, maybe you want to grab onto his massive biceps and run your hands over his pectorals. You’re curious, nothing more. He’s put a lot of time and effort for a physique like that, and you only appreciate it.

…What a bunch of bullshit.

Coming to a halt, the two of you turn to face each other, readying your blades. From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like Tengen could take you out in ten seconds flat. You, however, are a Pillar, just like him. You’re not weak.

“Don’t cry if you get hurt, Nanami,” Tengen taunts. His normally cocky expression settles into a determined one. Although this is only a training session, he’s ready to give it his all. If you can’t give your whole 110%, then you can’t call yourself a Pillar.

“I’m not the one who’s going to be crying,” you shoot right back. “Gods forbid if your hair falls out of place.”

At that, Tengen snickers. “Just warning you.”

In a single blink, the fight begins.

He’s almost too quick for your eyes to follow; a blur of colors passes by your left, and you quickly sidestep to evade his duo-blades. The air hums with the force of his strike. Tengen is nothing but pure, raw strength; obviously, you don’t match him in that aspect, but you’re not hopeless.

Being the Lightning Pillar, you take pride in the strength of your legs. You swiftly kick at his side, a spark of satisfaction lighting in your chest when your foot makes contact. A growl reaches your ear, then, and a sudden blow to your ribs takes you by surprise.

Stumbling backwards, you gasp for air, but Tengen refuses to give you a second to prepare. He’s moving at you again, his blades arcing about him gracefully; his form is nothing short of perfect, completely on the offense but leaving no opening for an attack of your own. Your own blade swings towards him in flashing movements.

The fight is fast, intense. Tengen is nothing more than a blur of colors and massive size; the only real indication of your strikes landing on him is the clashing of your blades. The pain in your ribs spikes as you continuously work your body. You force yourself to control your breathing, focus on healing the wound, but you’re not given any time whatsoever.

Tengen refuses to back down. He’s fighting to win.

You lose track of time. The fight drags on, seemingly lasting for what? Minutes? Days? The sun’s still hanging high above you; from what you can tell, it hasn’t even moved.

A grunt leaves your throat as Tengen slams into you. All the air is sucked out of your lungs as you hit the ground, Tengen’s hulking body landing on top of you. Your eyes blink rapidly, mind whirling to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Did he just… Did he just beat you?

You quickly take note of the position you’re in; Tengen looms over you, his hands planted on either side of your head. One of your legs is trapped between his. He’s got you pinned down, no doubt about it.

The corners of his mouth curl into his signature smirk. Beads of sweat stick to his forehead, a faint blush lingering on his cheeks. Is it just you, or have his cheekbones always been this sharp? Full eyelashes curtain his eyes as his lids drop, his expression turning sultry.

He smells good – like sweat, musk, and pine.

“You look really good under me,” Tengen mutters. Pearly teeth sink into his plush lower lip.

Everything suddenly feels too hot. Your mouth turns dry and a lump builds in your throat. Swallowing thickly, your gaze flickers over the features of his face, lingers on the sharp line of his jaw and his velvety lips. He’s always been handsome, devastatingly so, but up close… He’s godly.

Without fully realizing it, your hands abandon your blade and link together behind his neck. His proximity is tempting, the look in his eyes hypnotizing. “Tengen,” you whisper. He visibly shudders. Slowly, ever so slowly, the two of you drift even closer. Your lips barely brush against his when a wave of pain slams you in the chest.

With a cry, you flop back against the ground, your hands leaving his neck and clutching at your ribs. Tengen appears to be in a daze; he blinks a few times, the cloud of lust dissipating from his eyes as he takes in your pained expression.

“Oh, shit!” he exclaims, panic striking his features. “Nanami, oh gods-“ His hands are suddenly caressing your face, his eyes large. “Shit! What did I-“

“My ribs,” you gasp. Now that you’re completely still, the pain in your side is excruciating. “I think they’re broken.” Your face contorts with pain.

“Nanami!” Mitsuri suddenly cries out. The two of you look up just in time to see her hurrying over to your side, Kyojuro hot on her heels. “Oh my gods! Are you okay?!”

“No,” Tengen tells her, all traces of playfulness in his voice gone. He sounds different this way, almost like an entirely new person. He scrambles off of you, his mouth set in a thin line. “I’ve got to get her to the Butterfly Estate.”

Mitsuri looks at him with startled eyes. “What happened?”

“I got too carried away,” Tengen says, voice gruff. As he looks to you, guilt shines in the red of his irises. “I should’ve controlled myself.” Gingerly, he picks you up bridal style, careful of how he holds you.

“Do you need us to come along?” Kyojuro questions, his voice laced with concern.

Tengen shakes his head solemnly. “I’ll take care of it.”

Pressed against his chest, you remain speechless as he takes off towards the mansion. You hold on tightly, focusing your breathing and deriving the pain away from your most sensitive spots.

As you thought, your ribs are broken.

After the first night in the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu spoke to you privately, telling you how lucky you were that your lungs weren’t punctured.

“I had to force Tengen-san to leave,” Shinobu says to you. It’s currently night two of your stay at the Butterfly Estate.

Lifting your shirt up, you let her change the bandages, her fingers gently prodding your skin. You hiss in pain as she barely brushes her fingers over the nasty bruise located on your side. “I’m surprised he stayed,” you grit.

“He’s very worried,” Shinobu says. She makes quick work of spreading a medicinal salve over the bruise before wrapping it back up. “He kept pacing back and forth outside the front entrance. Aoi even brought him tea to calm him down.”

Your entire face scrunches in confusion. “Why would he do that?”

Setting her equipment to the side, Shinobu shoots you an amused look. “You really don’t know, do you?”

You shake your head.

Shinobu sighs. “Well, Nanami, I genuinely thought you were brighter than this. It’s because he’s harboring feelings for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You have romantic feelings for him as well, don’t you? You’re not very subtle about it.”

An incoherent noise falls from your lips. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stutter. “Tengen is the most annoying person I know-“

“You know denial is the first step in many processes, right?” Shinobu flashes you a smug smile as you gawk at her. “I’m just saying. I think you two would make a cute couple.”

“Shinobu! Don’t say that!”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door. Shinobu calls for them to enter; Aoi slides the screen open, a tired expression sitting on her features. “Someone’s here to see you,” she says to you. She sighs. “Again.” Stepping away, Tengen replaces her spot in the doorway.

“Well, I think I’ll be going,” Shinobu says, drawing herself to a stand. “Take your medicine and get some rest, okay?” After you give her a nod, she pats your shoulder and leaves the room, sliding the screen shut behind her.

Tengen quickly steps over to your bed and sinks down onto the mattress. You almost don’t recognize him – he’s out of uniform, opting for a deep blue yukata instead. His face is devoid of any makeup, his hair loose around his shoulders. He looks almost… pretty.

His eyes flicker over your face. “How are you?” The tone he uses takes you aback. Where’s his usual cockiness? Where’s his stupid smirk? Why does he sound worried?

Shinobu’s words ring inside your head. It’s because he’s harboring feelings for you.

Fingers clutching onto the thick fabric of your blanket, you sheepishly look away. “Sore,” you mutter. Your breath hitches as you feel warm hands envelop yours. Snapping your attention to Tengen, you watch in utter shock as he raises your hands to his mouth and presses fleeting kisses to your palms. “Tengen-“

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, burying his face in your hands. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Your heart thumps steadily in your chest. Your side cries out in pain, but you do your best to ignore it. “Hey now,” you say gently, not knowing how to handle this side of him, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll be alright.”

If anything, Tengen appears bummed. “I don’t care. I’m the one who did it, not some lowlife demon. I should’ve been more careful, dammit.”

You worry your bottom lip. “Do you… regret fighting me?” Anxiety gnaws at your heart; the two of you almost kissed, after all.

“I regret hurting you,” Tengen replies, not missing a beat. It’s almost like he was waiting for you to ask that very question. He pauses, then, a perplexed look crossing his face. “…I want to take care of you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “What do you mean?”

“I want to take you to my home.”

“Why…?”

“It’s my fault that you’re injured. It should be my responsibility to take care of you. I’ll ask Shinobu for your medicine,” he quickly adds when he sees your mouth opening in protest. “Please?”

Dear gods. You’ve never heard Tengen say the word ‘please’ a day in your life.

“I don’t know,” you tell him, voice soft. “It just seems…” Weird? Too much? Like a dream come true?

“Let me take care of you,” Tengen urges. He shuffles closer, the familiar scent of musk and pine greeting your nose. “I can treat you so good, Nanami.”

You shudder at his words. They shouldn’t have such an effect on you, but they do. “Yeah, okay,” you breathe, your blood pounding in your ears.

A soft, warm smile grows on Tengen’s handsome face. “Thank you.”

The next morning, you wake to a chorus of birds.

The bed you lie on is larger than the one you had at the Butterfly Estate; fluffy down-filled pillows cradle your head, thick, expensive covers your body. The scent of pine sticks to the sheets, overwhelms you in a sickeningly sweet way. A source of heat warms the left side of your body; shifting to the side, your eyes widen at the sight of Tengen.

He blinks sleepily at you. His gorgeous features are entirely lax, the silvery strands of his hair surrounding his head in a halo. “Good morning,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep. It sends a shiver creeping down your spine.

“Tengen?” you croak. Like him, your voice is raspy.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he tells you, flicking the loose hairs from his face. “After I put you to bed last night, I kind of just… crawled in. You looked like you were cold.”

You can feel the heat steadily rushing to your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as he reaches toward you, his strong fingers pushing your hair behind your ear. They linger on your cheek, and a look of longing flashes in Tengen’s eyes.

Much like before, you’re struck by how beautiful he is up close. The gods must have carved him out of marble, inlaid jewels for eyes, wove his hair from the finest of silks. Your gaze travels down, over the line of his jaw, down the column of his neck, and settle on the exposed skin of his chest. You almost want to tell him to cover up, to pull his yukata closed, but you don’t. If anything, you want to see more of his skin.

The hand on your face forces you to look back up at him. “Nanami,” he murmurs in that wonderful voice of his, “you know how awful I feel, right?”

You’re more than aware. Before this whole thing happened, you would’ve laughed at the idea of Tengen being gentle with you. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t possess a single guilty bone in his body. Reaching up, you place a hand on top of his. A spark of electricity tingles in your fingertips, but you refuse to pull away.

“Tengen,” you start, pausing to swallow the dry feeling in your throat. “Please stop beating yourself up. You’ll take care of me, right? Make it up to me.”

Tengen’s nostrils flare. He moves closer, then, and your eyelids instinctively fall shut. His lips are softer than they look, taste like an expensive tea; you sigh, your hands coming up and linking behind his head. He kisses you slowly, but there’s so much passion in his movements. His palm burns against your cheek. He’s so warm, so delightfully hard and ridged. Your hands grow more adventurous, slipping over his strong shoulders and settling on his chest. He hums under your touch, his lips parting; his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You let him in without a moment’s hesitation. As his tongue slides against yours, his fingers brush through the strands of your hair, slinking around until he’s clutching the back of your head.

“Nanami,” he says again as he pulls away. His eyes narrow into pretty slits as he looks at you. “Gods, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”

“Then how come you haven’t done it before?” you whisper.

The corner of his lips twitch into a smirk. “Because you’re so stubborn and it pisses me off.”

A huff of laughter passes through your lips. “And you’re a meathead.” The look on his face softens as you run your fingers through his hair.

“What a flamboyant kisser you are,” Tengen teases. You giggle as he bumps his nose against yours. “Let me treat you like the queen you are.”

You ignore the spike of heat swirling in your abdomen. “All it took was you doing something stupid, huh? Figures.”

Hot air fans over your skin as he buries his face in your neck. “Like you’re against the idea.” You jolt as he plants a kiss against your neck. “I’ll make you happy to see me.” Another kiss. “I promise I’ll love you so good.”

Your heart kicks in your chest. Did he just say what you think he said? “You… love me….?”

Tengen hums into your throat. “Like I said – you’re stubborn.”

You think of the words both Mitsuri and Shinobu told you. He has feelings for you.

And you’re rapidly figuring out that you do, too.

Pulling him away from your neck, you urgently press your lips to his. The slide is too easy, almost like your lips were meant for each other. You hold him close, your heart beating in time with his.

You, his queen. Him, your king.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #uzui tengen x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #kny tengen #commission #missusk

266 notes · View notes

ccsthemovie2 · 3 years

Note

(I think it's a word over 500, but:)

"Speaking of Tsukishiro, how's he doing?", Eriol asks. Frying pan to fire to volcano.

"He's good," Touya says quickly, before Sakura can say anything. Yukito is not even in the ballpark of "good". Yesterday he called Touya and begged him to bike over and said it was important and when Touya showed up he was asleep, and stayed fast asleep right through to the next morning. He keeps trying to make appointments with doctors, and then falling asleep before he can call, or, when Touya calls for him, before he can make it out the door. Privately, Touya isn't sure how much good a doctor can do for him, but anything has to be better than this, right?

"Really? I'm glad to hear it." Ugh, how much has Sakura told him. Not that she doesn't have a right to talk to her friends, but, come on, would it kill her to least keep it between her and Tomoyo and the funny looking cat.

He's good, that's an obvious lie. Ruby has said Yukito could barely stand upright at school. Every inch of Touya Kinomoto is packed full of magic. Sooner or later, Eriol figures, either Sakura will be powerful enough to sustain him, or Yue will have to get over himself and just eat already. Touya can't actually do anything with his magic, so it's not like Yue, even weak as he is, will have to face much of a struggle to take it. (Aside from competition with Ruby, of course. There's something to that, right, articles and studies about animals being healthier if they need a bit of careful planning to get their food? Yes, so this works out nicely.)

Or maybe- oh, that's probably it. Yue's on to him, isn't he? He's just being stubborn as usual, figuring sooner or later Clow will appear via Eriol and save him. He can imagine how surprised, overjoyed, grateful Yue would be, if Eriol showed up and saved his life. He can imagine Yue's head resting on his neck as clearly as if he had kept Yue well-fed with magic a thousand times in his lifetime. It would be nice, in the short run, but it wouldn't be right, no. Clow is dead, and Yue needs to learn to live with that. If he knows what's good for him, he will take responsibility for his own life, and if he doesn't...

Ahh, well, maybe it's Clow's old sentimentality, maybe Eriol is just warming up to Sakura's moon guardian all on his own, but he can't bring himself around to the idea of letting Yue just die. He'd save him, if it came down to it. But, he tells himself sternly, only as an absolute last resort. He's just worrying because he misses Yue and wants to get to know him better all at once in that past-and-future way- it's worth a visit, soon. Yes, a nice little visit, and Yue will never even have to know it happened. Just to check in.

(sorry the formatting got weird when i copypasted lol!)

hiiii thanks for the ask!!!

if we talk about this convo we need to back up and talk about how it got here. this should give you some idea of how badly this needs to be under a cut for length lol.

so it all starts with the bit about how someone falling and being caught is something that happens a lot in ccs. how with eriol, it's purposeful, and with fujitaka (and i misremembered it but since found out she fell *on* him and not *caught* by him, which lolol i hope he broke a bone, but also its fine the fic's already marked canon divergent, or maybe the story gets misremembered, whatever, in any case), it's an echo of clowriol's intentional artificial-trustbuild-dangersaves but without the magic or purpose to back it up (just like fujitaka himself!), but it's a situation he quickly makes favorable to him, because it may be a blank slate but it's made of the same material.

this whole convo was part of one of the very first chunks written, but everything was going to go in a very different direction at first. (there's a lot of Cut Content from this fic, some that i just didn't like, some that wasn't connectable with the rest of the fic after it took the shape it took but might pop up somewhere else one day idk). in this particular bit i cut the later half of the conversation because i really didn't like what i'd written, but then even though the direction of the story changed the conversation was still going so it had to bounce somewhere else, so it bounced to yukito. here we are answering your ask 2 paragraphs in!

yukito, iirc in the anime, did catch her from a fall, (in the manga, which made way more sense for why she had to change her clothes and rest so much, he saved her from drowning, again iirc because who can trust a memory) and at a point where eriol still has some investment in making yuekito/sakura (ewwwww) happen, he's going to try and draw on that symbolism to nudge her in that direction, right?

so all this said, SPEAKING of yuekito. how are they doing.

bad, obviously. touya's freaking out. i imagine that part of what's stopping yukito from seeing a doctor is yue, though- he knows it wont help, and i dont think yukito has, like, person insides that will stand up to medical tests, and yue would pick up on yukito like, not wanting to be outed to the doctor as a magic construct because he, like, doesnt actually have a real heart that pulses, just a repeating heartbeat sound. doesn't for real have blood etc to test, just records of blood type (for personality reasons).

and also touya's a very like keep-ur-problems-not-everybodys-business type so hes like imagining sakura venting her fears to this weirdo and getting pissed off. but that didnt actually happen, eriol knew all on his own lolol. touya you have to say something nice should happen to sakura to make up for wrongly suspecting her now

and this bit on eriol's end is all wrong information and inaccurate conclusions and i was really worried ppl would take it at face value but i hope nobody did. in ccs we get moments where eriol wants sakura to take power, or to learn that power can be taken- his final battle with her, for example, where the answer to his light and dark puzzle is to use kero and yue's power, except that's not something she would ever Want to do or would even Occur to her to try. the power is gifted to her by kero and yue (and syaoran!) because they love her.

same concept, here- the answer to the 'yue is dying' puzzle is to eat touya's power, and he can't imagine the real reason why he won't just do that, and when he thinks about it too long it goes right to his ego- yue looovvvvesss clow, and by extension me. he wants meeeeeee to save him. he wants to neck kissy MY magic soo sooooo bad. but yue isn't considering any of that at all. he's thinking about yukito and what touya means to yukito and why that would make yukito hesitate to reach out, and that no way in hell will he just ambush his other self's crush down a dark alley and take his magic, even to save both their lives. he's a lot more selfless than clow and eriol ever realize. maybe- this is just a half formed thought right now, i dont know if im like certain about it, but- maybe they feel his devotion to clow was a form of selfishness, that he Wanted Love as a thing he could hold and own, whereas pretty much everybody else who meets him goes like YOU SELFLESS MAN YOU CANT JUST DIE FOR PPL YOU CARE ABOUT YOU GOTTA TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF TOOOO

and there’s also that bit of teacherliness intrinsic to the three of them again: im doing this to teach him a lesson. im letting ruby do her thing without telling her what’s going on to help and encourage yue, etc.

anyway, that (in terms of fic weaving itself into canon) solidifies his decision to do uhmmmm a thing that creeps me out real bad in the anime (knocking yue out to have a moment with him, and oh, ding, there's another 'you fell but i caught you' moment!). eriol loves this manner of hanging out with people, you see it later in this fic, even:

It's important to say what's in your heart to the people you want to say it to, even if you have to make sure the other person never hears it. It's important for your own emotional freedom.

he loves to spend time with people exclusively on his terms, to the point where the other party never even knew he was there, because he knocked them out, or because he was just staring creepily at the outside of sakura's house while she did homework, etc etc etc.

tldr: it's all connected, aaaaaaaaa

#ask

8 notes · View notes

docholligay · 3 years

Note

For the rewrite: You get to rewrite D-Point/S1 finale but in a way that it could still fit into where the rest of the series goes and R could start as normal. How would you do it?

UGH. So basically I have to keep the weird false divide between inners and outers. FURI YOU LOATHE ME. This is obviously only part of it, as, uh, I am long-winded and love a bit of drama, but 1800 words. please enjoy

The wind whirled grey across that empty arctic plain. Well, not quite empty. If rei had been turned another direction, she would have seen Ami’s body, perched on a mound of ice, there in the far background from where Mina had dragged them both away from the scene, as if her own element were constructing a tomb to her. She knew without seeing that Ami would be dressed in that loose grey sweater and awkward green skirt that came down to her calves, a pair of loafers on her feet. It was what she had been wearing last time they’d transformed. The uniform leaves, when a senshi dies.

She’d found that out with Mako.

Rei hadn’t seen Ami die. She hadn’t needed to. It had, like she’d said, afforded Rei and Mina the time to move forward along that plain, trying to find the place where they could enter the lair where Beryl was said to sit, on this desolate patch of earth that might have been beautiful, thousands of years ago, when it was the seat of power for the earth, but now was as lifeless as everything else behind them.

Mina’s nose was in the air, as if she could smell anything but the bright cold of the wind. As if she could hear anything but that howling which might have been the same wind, but just as likely might have been Usagi. It could have been Rei’s own soul, too, she supposed.

She wanted to melt all of it. She wanted to take her arms off from around Usagi, put her hands together, and bring it all to dirt. How foolish they would be, bringing a fire maiden to the ice, not knowing what sort of powers she contained. She was the ace in the hole, she knew. She was the strongest one, here, if her pride did not allow her to remember that might not be true everywhere.

MIna stepped back from her lookout and glanced over to Rei and Usagi. “Sailor Moon. Princess.” Usagi looked up at her, tears half-frozen on her cheeks, “We have to keep going. If we stay here, they’ll find us straightaway.”

Rei wanted to protest, but only in the way that she wanted the girl before her to be Mina and not Venus. She had never mastered that in the same way Mina had, to be two people in one body. She was always Rei, and Mars was only ever Rei with the fire at her fingertips instead of her heart. Mina was warm and bright, if a bit annoying--a neon light, flashing in the cool darkness--but Venus was sheer steel, cold and unrelenting.

Usagi began wailing.

“But, but--” she took a deep breath, and coughed against the cold, “Am--”

“Sailor Mercury did her duty. It would be worst disrespect to her death not to do ours.” She looped the chain at her waist, tightening it as she went to move forward. “It’s getting closer to the surface, over that way.”

Rei hadn’t known Mina very long, as a practical matter. It was only recently that Rei had come to see her as anything other than a usurper, strolling into the group and declaring herself the military commander of the entire operation. Luna had said nothing to disagree, simply called her Commander Venus as Rei glared.

“I am the commander,” Mina had sipped at her tea, eyes sparking in the way they often did when she and Rei were alone, something that tugged onto Rei and made her keep looking. She blamed the moon. “But you are the personal bodyguard. You are the last one standing, because that’s your job.”

“Who decided that anyway?” Rei had scowled across the table, Mina leaning toward her, those clever eyes searching her too deeply, “You? You just think you can show up and--”

She’d laughed. “Oh, I don’t decide anything.” She looked up out the window to the sky. “This is so far beyond you and me.”

Rei went to protest that it didn’t have to be that way, that nothing was beyond her exactly, but Mina never gave her the opportunity.

“Don’t you want to protect Usagi?” MIna had come just a little closer to her, and she could smell that near-syrup sweetness, like peaches in a can, “Can’t you feel that you should? Why do you think that is.”

“That’s different.” Rei said, both then and now, Mina and Usagi both looking at her suddenly.

“What is?” Mina had her hands on her hips.

Rei shook her head, but did not remove her arms from Usagi’s side. “Let’s go.”

The terrain was not so flat as it looked, and Usagi stumbled as she cried, protesting that Rei and Mina didn’t care about their friends, neither of them rising to the occasion. Even now, Usagi did not seem to realize that this was it. This was the grand battle for which they had been reborn, this was the one they had to win. Every battle leading up to this had only ever been dress rehearsal.

It was not Ami and Mako at risk, but the world entire.

Mina stopped, putting her hand on Rei’s chest to pause her, but flashing her a grin that was beyond Venus as she did so. There was a glow in the earth, here, just barely, if you looked beyond the snow. Anyone else might have walked past it, might have stepped over it, but Mina put her hand down onto it, and it pulsed beneath her hand.

There was a rumble, and a crack, and Mina pushed them both back, grabbing to the chain at her side and beginning to swing. Usagi whimpered, again, and Mina turned back to the two of them, chain still gliding in golden figure eight over her head, as if it were a crown all her own.

“You have to go.” Mina’s eyes looked greyer, somehow, in this light, “Take her and head for the point on the far horizon. You have to get her there, Mars.”

Usagi tried to pull away from Rei’s heat, to no avail.

“Venus! We can’t leave you!” She began to cry again, her whimpering cry mixing with that same cold wind and drilling into Rei’s ears. “You can’t die too!”

“No,” she shook her head, “you can’t die, Princess. You’re the key. You’ve always been the key.”

Rei saw, in that moment, that it was never going to be otherwise. This was always how it ended. It was always Mars, bow on her back, taking the princess where she needed to be. Even if they won. Even if they failed. She was always the last one standing, always the final line of defense, and it was always her fire that protected the princess. The fire hadn’t shown her that before. It had never been close enough to see by its light.

Before Usagi could say otherwise, the ground burst open, and two of the youma guards popped out, mouths wide with delight and fury as they careened toward the three. MIna’s chain curved in a broad arc in the air, and came down, wrapping around a youma’s arm, twisting it back as she drew the chain in. But the other youma was fast approaching, and Mina was forced to step back, hurtling one youma into the other with a fierce swing of the chain.

She turned her head.

“Go!”

Rei stammered for a moment, unsure in a way that felt wrong and less stable than the crust of snow beneath her feet. But what about you? She wanted to say. If we leave you, you’ll die, and she saw Mina leaning over the table again, and she felt her body close in, and she could barely draw a breath at this moment, everything that might have been burning in the fire of what was to be.

Mina whipped the chain over her, moving deftly as she looped in around her neck and rerouted it, sparking one and then the other with its tip, blood beginning to tear from the two of them. Her violence was poetry, Rei thought, the chain her pen. She was nothing like the rest of them, stronger than Ami, more elegant than Mako, and, though she would only ever allow this in though, perhaps more clever than Rei herself. She was a creature created for this moment, a valkyrie of the long odds.

They staggered back, weapons drawn, unsure of how to handle this unusual weapon.

Mina looked back, blonde hair whipping in the wind, eyes narrowed.

“Go or I will kill you myself.”

Rei nodded, in that, the first command from Mina for which she had no moment to question or balk, and for which she felt no drive to do so. She took Usagi by the shoulders, her cries fading into the background against the shoosh of Mina’s chain.

As Rei started to move away, the youmas rushed at Mina, trying to flank her from the sides, but Mina was too quick and too studied, whipping the chain around her and knelling to the ground, catching them both with the end of it, howls as they furiously took another blow before they could turn to run, but un they did, escaping back down the hole in the ice.

“Have to go after them, unsettle the place.” MIna grinned back to Rei, and blew a kiss. “Think of me, fireball.”

Rei hated the nickname instantly. Rei hoped she would say it again. But she became Venus again.

“Princess. Your duty to the world is at hand. Do it.”

She did not wait for a reply, simply whipped the chain above her and disappeared down the hole. As Rei dragged Usagi away, still crying and screaming, Rei fought back tears of her own, hearing the fighting below them, hearing the thunderous roar of the troops coming to aid, knowing that Mina would die down there, bloody and bruised, her body broken in a horrible, dark, cold cave at the end of nowhere.

There was the entrance up ahead. Mina was right, they were scattered, they assumed the senshi had all entered together, they had not thought of it as Mina had, as Venus always would, and now was their moment.

“CRESCENT!!! BEAM!!!!” She heard echoing on the tundra behind her, and then there was a grand explosion, the tearing and rending of the earth behind them, and Rei and Usagi looked back to see a golden crest in the sky, rocks and dirt and snow flying from where she had blown apart the tunnel she was in, a sudden still silence filling the air, a fine red mist settling into perfect ruby snowflakes into that same wind, and whispering out toward she and Usagi.

Usagi screamed. It might have been Mina’s name, or Venus’, but it was a tuneless thing and might have been neither of them at all.

Onward. Make it worth it.

She grabbed Usagi’s arm, and pulled.

#thoughtfulfuri #Eight Days 2020 #SM rewrites #basically what if instead of just a line of getting killed there were a handful of tactics #give them some credit

29 notes · View notes

rwbyremnants · 3 years

Link

NOTE: Car sex, cunnilingus.

WOW, I can't believe after so long between updates it's finally all up! Hope you guys enjoyed the ride and are happy that Ruby and Winter figured it all out. Again, I know sometimes this account goes quiet even though I'm always writing; I just can't always find the time to set aside to edit and update the fics. It won't be right away but I can tell you that the next installment of the White Noise universe is definitely coming someday. Until then, see you in the other fics!

-NBW

=Chapter 11

Once the newly happy couple entered the conservatory, it became too crowded to talk about their private affairs. Everyone was sat around in the living room, surrounding Weiss who took the middle of the sofa with Yang at her side. Blake and Sun had made it, and they were lingering near Yang. There was still no sign of Qrow, Taiyang or Penny yet. They must have been more held up than they thought. Even if people were still engaged in their own conversations rather than fully focusing on their host, it was still too risky.

But that didn't stop Ruby standing in place by Winter's side, idly brushing their hands by one another. Not holding, but enough to make her presence known.

"Okay, I guess we're ready!" Weiss was announcing as Winter hooked her own pinky around Ruby's. No one would have noticed how nervous she was unless they were close to her - either physically or emotionally. Nervous, yet excited.

"Hang on," Blake said, holding up her phone and aiming the camera at Weiss. "Okay, ready!"

"Open Yang's! It's sappy!" Ruby called across the crowd loudly, knowing it would definitely be heard on the recording.

It was a small haul of presents in comparison to previous years, but no one particularly minded. Both the hosts understood that many of their guests either didn't know what to get or couldn't afford much – and they themselves had insisted nobody break the bank. It made the cards reviewed all the more special, which Weiss had Yang display by the fireplace right away.

Nearly an hour later, everyone had gathered at the dinner table. Weiss put the various presents to one side but insisted on wearing the bracelet. While agreeing it was sappy, she loved it – just as both Ruby and Yang suspected she would. Yang and Weiss were sat at one end, with Fènleng in her high chair at the head of the table. By their side were Sun and Blake, then Neon and Inu, then Winter and Ruby. The rest of the guests were further along, with only a few taking the sofa due to lack of space at the table. Everyone took what they wanted from the buffet of sandwiches and snacks, complimenting Neon and Yang who had put it all together on this occasion.

Ruby sometimes managed to give Winter a shy wave. There was still no sign of Penny just yet. But while things were up in the air with Winter, she assumed that was for the best. They could talk soon.

"You know," Winter said to Neon as she leaned to one side so they could speak more easily, "you two did quite a good job on this spread. If you ever get tired of performing, you could probably try your hand at party planning."

Blowing a loud raspberry, she smirked back toward her. "No way! Any nimrod can spread some mayo on bread’n add some tuna or ham. I just needed to do it a few hundred times!"

"Well, I might think about it! I'm sure as hell still not used to going out and people recognising me on the street, like I’m somebody." Grabbing a few of the cheese sandwiches and some potato chips, Yang looked toward her little sister from across the table. "Don't worry, I put Penny's vegan stuff to the side so she'll have plenty when she gets here. Made it special!"

"Oh, great! She'll really like that!" Ruby grinned straight back, having just put a bratwurst on her plate and adding more chips. "They're still held up, I think… traffic must be bad."

"Sometimes it gets pretty congested," Weiss agreed as she popped a devilled egg into her mouth. "Flying out of Nashville is as miserable as LAX. But you get used to it."

"This tuna is excellent," Blake commented with a smile. "You really went all out."

"Seconded! I'm surprised it hasn’t summoned the real cat yet." Taking a few of the tuna sandwiches for herself, Neon then looked back to Weiss while she prepared her own and some of Fènleng's food. "Hey, where is Xu-Xu anyways?"

But while they had their light, aimless conversations, it seemed Ruby was zoning out for a moment. She had got her food, and simply stared blankly at her plate as she began to eat. Dwelling on Penny being late would do no good for her mood, so eating was a good solution.

And so was something else going on under the table. About a third of the way through her bratwurst, Ruby could feel a sensation sliding up her calf. It was very light, but definitely present; a teasing. As it did so, she could hear Winter answering another question Blake had asked.

"Oh, I'm not much of a pet person. But I might be persuaded to take in a rescue." Her eyes flicked between both her and Ruby. "Perhaps a cat and a dog, if they could play nice with each other."

Swallowing the meat in her mouth, Ruby shuddered with both a mixture of shock and pleasure. She could feel very easily it was Winter's soft foot, teasing her with those pedicured nails. And it began to rise! Then it hit her: Winter's ultimate payback for what happened with her father. She wasn't finished with her just yet, but could balance their debts by winding her up in front of all the guests.

"Really?" Blake was laughing with a wider smile. "Maybe find a cat who wouldn't mind being cat-sat by you until you could adopt one of your own. I could help you with that."

The elder Schnee sister hummed her agreement as the teasing went up to Ruby's knee, tracing tiny circles as it went. "You know, that might be nice. Test if I'm really ready to take on a pet full-time."

Again, her eyes went back to Ruby. Now biting her lip, Ruby waited for what was coming. She had to maintain a mask of calm, not show that she was really flustered. She never considered all these factors when doing it to Winter. No wonder she wanted to get back at her in this way; it would teach her not to underestimate how hard this was to do on the receiving end.

"Ahem!" Sun ejaculated toward Winter in regards to her comments. Assuming they were intended for Blake, he leant forward. "'Ix-nay' on the 'Et stuff-pay', alright? These people are super vanilla!"

Leaning forward herself, Winter's foot disappeared during the action. "Nobody would pick up on what we meant if you weren't drawing more attention to it, Monkey Boy," she hissed. Though she was still smiling; not at all upset, just mildly bemused that Sun had let himself get so easily flustered.

Looking downward got his plate and groaning in annoyance instead, he murmured, "Just shut up and eat your sandwiches."

But Ruby was finally sighing with relief, going back to her sandwich. She assumed that Winter had stopped taunting her, thinking she realised how mean it really was in front of people. That she had enjoyed her revenge.

"Aww, it's okay," Blake was murmuring to Sun very gently, petting his shoulder to soothe him. "But Winter is right in this case; we were just talking about pets. No big deal."

"And a well cared for pet is a happy pet," Winter went on, as her foot resumed its upward progress - this time, starting at the knee and working inward. "Don't worry, I've done a lot of pet-sitting in my time."

"Oh really?” Yang put in. “We'll have to get you to cat-sit Xu-Xu for us, Winter. See, we wanted to take Fènleng to Disneyland sometime soon-"

Yang was immediately cut off by Neon. "Kids her age can barely go on anything!"

"Who said it was just for her?"

But the host's little sister was distracted once more. Forced to release the sandwich which dropped to her plate, she froze up once again. Winter was continuing to wind her up in plain sight. She only hoped that no one was going to notice, somehow.

"Wouldn't mind it a bit," she was saying serenely while pushing her foot further and further between Ruby's thighs, underneath the meager protection her skit offered. "Though Neon does have a point. It might be more fun if you leave Fèn with one of us and just go to Disney yourselves."

"I could never do that!" Weiss gasped out, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder for emphasis. "My little girl, alone, for days at a time?!"

"Babe, didn't you wanna go back on tour for a couple of months next year, though?" Yang laughed. Looking back to Neon and Winter, she smiled. "For her, it would mainly be for pictures. We wanna build lots of memories and make some scrapbooks and stuff. You know, stuff to embarrass her with in front of her friends, or when she brings a date home."

Once the foot pressed home beneath the skirt, however, there was a harsh thud at the table from where Ruby jumped in surprise, knees impacting with the surface above. Either way, it got quite a bit of attention - the opposite of what she wanted. Already her cheeks were glowing.

It was remarkable how real the look of confusion and concern on Winter's face was as she asked, "Are you alright?" Even as the toes resumed their progress, getting so close to the mark again, she was laying her palms on either side of her plate, as if pretending she was about to stand.

"I-I… U-Uh…" By now, Ruby could feel her right up against her panties, pressing inward and taunting her fragile flesh. How was she supposed to respond to that with everyone looking? She didn't have as much self-control as Winter did!

There was nothing else for it. As much as she didn't want to give up and accept her fate, she found herself having to move her chair back slightly. He blush was completely red, enough to give Winter a big enough hint that her efforts were not fruitless. Once out of the foot's reach, she shot an apologetic look over toward Weiss.

"S-sorry, just need the bathroom. Where, uh, was it again?"

"There's one right here on this floor," Weiss said in some confusion. "And downstairs and upstairs, of course. You've been here before, haven't you?"

"Y-yeah… I… Sorry, I forgot. I'm being dumb. E-excuse me!"

And barely even managing to tuck her skirt back down in time, Ruby dashed away from her chair and straight to the bathroom, leaving their guests very confused. Winter had to play it cool. Even with the guilty thrill that shot into her stomach, she had to at least pretend that she had no idea that anything was wrong with Ruby. However, after a full minute had passed, she withdrew her phone from her bosom and sent a quick message.

R u ok?

"Your sister's kinda crazy, Yang." Neon was heard commenting as she went to grab more tuna sandwiches.

"Yeah, but at least she's in better moods now." Yang admitted, looking toward the eldest Schnee with a bright smile. "We got Winter to thank for that."

But after a short moment, there was a buzz through to Winter's phone. A message back.

Fine! I guess I deserved that. But I knew I was gonna end up moaning so I had to leave quick! D:

"Oh, I just… did what I could," Winter said evasively as she began to type back.

You could have stopped me and said it was too much, I just thought it would be fun ; ) I'll help you moan more later

"My sister's so modest," Weiss said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. But she was smirking. "She's so good at reassuring people. The same sister who once convinced me that if I ate a caterpillar, I would have a literal butterfly in my stomach."

"That was ONE time!" Winter said in exasperation as she laid her phone down to take a drink of water. "And I was five, you can hardly blame me!"

While everyone chuckled, Weiss said, "Can't I?"

"Oh, that's bush league compared to the stuff I did." Yang laughed, holding up the hand with her sandwich to gesture along with her story. "When we had our first dog, Ein, Ruby would always try and run around on all fours like him. I told her if she did absolutely everything a dog does, she would be able to turn into one."

"Oh my God, please tell me she didn't whiz on any fire hydrants!" Sun was already laughing halfway through Yang's story, but then came another vibration from Winter's phone.

Honestly I haven't felt up to doing anything so long it's so tempting just to go to town on myself in here o//o

"Nothing like that!" Yang could be heard continuing. "But I looked away for two minutes, then suddenly both Ein and Ruby are rolling in a pool of mud! Dad was so pissed when we got home!"

With a knowing glint in her eye, Blake said in a deceptively-casual tone, "Wow, maybe you should look after Ruby when you look after Xu-Xu, Winter."

"Oh? Oh, I- perhaps so!" Now Winter could feel her own desires returning, but she was well practiced at maintaining a façade; no one else would know she was turned on. Even as she began to casually type…

Not yet. Please? I want to help more… directly. Tell me where to meet u

Here? Really???

But Yang quickly gave Blake a rather playful glare. She might have been oblivious to what Blake was talking about, but assumed it was something else instead. "What are you saying, my sister's a furry or something? Gross."

Another vibration. Ruby had added to her last reply before Winter could type her own: My car.

"Nothing against furries, but if she likes rolling around in the dirt, might be better to have someone putting her on a leash." Again, Blake glanced at Winter with a smirk.

"Well, I think this conversation is taking a turn for the strange," Weiss observed as she reached for another handful of chips to add to her plate. "My sister walking my sister-in-law like a dog! You're weird, Blake."

"Weird, yeah," Blake was muttering while Winter replied to her texts.

Slip out the back and around the house, I'll excuse myself when I can

"Some people are into that," Neon spoke up with a small smirk. In fact, she looked toward not only Weiss who started the conversation, but also occasionally to the woman sat opposite her. The ever-silent Inu.

"For real? People get off on being treated like a dog?" But the more Yang commented on it, the shorter Inu seemed to become as she sank down in her seat, cheeks reddening. Contrary to what the three people at the table who had prior experience in the Clamp assumed, it seemed there was yet another who shared those sorts of interests among them!

But Winter would have to miss that conversation if it went on. She had just received another message:

I'll text Weiss just to tell her I'll be on the phone. Should buy us enough time. I'm headed to the car now, don't keep me waiting or I'll have to start without you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Feeling her heart speed up into her throat, Winter let out a long, beleaguered sigh. Then she texted back a simple “Ok, be there soon” before pushing her chair back, finally putting on the shoe she had dislodged to tease her poor sub.

"I am sorry, I have to take this after all; some business can't wait. Don't worry, I'll just nip out front and take care of it. Excuse me."

But Blake's amber eyes were focused entirely on Winter as she stood. "Well, have fun." It was said flippantly, as if she were being sarcastic, but they both knew she was serious.

"Hurry back!" Weiss bade her as she strode from the table and out the front door. "All this food isn't going to eat itself!"

Due to how much closer the front door was to the car than the back door, Winter actually made it outside first. Therefore, she spent the time slipping off her cardigan and draping it over one arm, strolling lazily toward Ruby's car. Her heart was pounding with excitement, but she didn't dare show it. Not when there was a slim chance someone might glance out the foyer window and spot her dancing like a giddy schoolgirl.

Before Ruby was in sight, the car could be heard unlocking as the lights flashed. Then came one more vibration from the phone.

Just getting my shoes. Get in, seats can be lowered and there's a blanket in the back, be two seconds ; )

Winter blinked down at the message, then pulled the door handle, sliding into the passenger's side. As she closed the door, she began to message back - because it had to be asked.

Where were your shoes before??

I took them off when I first came over. She always keeps the garden clean so I never bothered to put them back on!

But finally, Ruby was in sight walking around the building. She had managed to avoid the gaze of the other guests as she made her way to the car. But just before she got there, she sent one last teasing text.

Surprised you didn't notice actually ; )))))

Biting her lip, Winter wrapped her phone in her cardigan and put it in the back seat, then grabbed the blanket to pull over herself. She waited until the driver's side door opened before she spoke.

"I had other worries on my mind. But… now that you mention it, I do seem to remember spotting some cute little piggies dancing along the floor…"

Quickly shutting the door behind her and locking it, Ruby grinned just as giddily when she looked back to Winter. She could barely even contain herself as she lowered her seat, attempting to create a more comfortable area for their activities.

"I wasn't thinking about it! Not till you started teasing me with yours. You total asshole, by the way!"

"Just thought I'd pay you back," she said with a grin, sliding the blanket so that she could throw it over Ruby, as well. "A little. Not really make you too uncomfortable - at least, I hope I didn't."

"No, it didn't," she assured her. It wouldn’t do to wound their barely-established relationship with misunderstandings. Scootching slightly toward Winter, she shuffled off her own jacket, tossing it to one side. Then started to undo one or two buttons to give Winter more of a view. "Like I said… I'm just so pent up you were about to make me lose my cool. So I'd rather you do that here, in private."

Now that she had been reassured, it seemed Winter wasn't above more teasing. As she watched the buttons open, she muttered, "Didn't want to let on to your big sister that you were all hot and bothered? I can imagine…"

It was certainly helping the situation, making her growl with desire as she felt deep heat brewing between her legs. But that need was becoming more of a priority than any small talk. It had been too long; not only had she enjoyed no sexual contact with Penny since that time in the car, but she had felt no motivation to take care of her urges on her own. But now that they were back with a passion, all she could do was look her dead in the eye.

"Quit teasing me and make me scream already."

As Winter's smile slowly began to fade, she reached over and grasped Ruby, pulling her across the space to lay atop her. A shoe clattered to the floor while she ran her hands up and down her sides, over her hindquarters.

"Ruby, I missed you so fucking much," she growled needily, past the point of caring how it sounded. Her hands were already gouging into the backs of the girl's thighs, digging in as they worked their way closer to her centre.

Several shaky gasps fell from from the younger woman’s lips. Still wearing an elated smile, instinct was already starting to take over. No longer did she care about their sub or Dom roles; this time, it was a case of doing whatever each of them wanted, trusting their intuition. Already Ruby felt her hips pushing forward against Winter's needily, desperate to get anything she could of her and push back against those hands in addition. Her arms wrapped around Winter's shoulders, keeping her close as she pressed her forehead against hers.

"I missed you, too." A hand dived into her hair. "I'm so happy you're here."

"I know how we started," Winter began as one hand slid around Ruby's hip to begin hiking up her skirt, to rub against her through the thin material of her underwear. "But now it's so much more than just training you. I… I have thought about you every single day since the last time we saw each other!"

"Nhhh! God, I'm so glad I'm not the only one!" Already she was so warm – and all over! No doubt Winter would be able to feel just how wet she had been, it was soaking her undies already. Looking her dead in he eye, she whispered, "So what are you waiting for? Fuck me." And without hesitating any longer, she crashed her lips up against Winter's.

As she kissed back, harder than ever before, Winter wasted no time. Ordinarily, her hands would have been doing a thousand things, taunting flesh and ghosting up thighs. In this instance, she jerked the crotch of Ruby's soft cotton panties aside and began to rub up and down her dripping folds, fingers moving with practiced ease.

Finally, Ruby could do just as she wanted to in the presence of everyone in that room. And she didn't hold back, moaning contentedly into their kiss as she continued to thrust her hips forward into the slender fingers. Even if she was glad they could do as they wanted, Ruby was able to come up with one downside to their impromptu session: they didn't have an artillery of Winter's wonderful toys to use. If only they had somehow anticipated this reconciliation.

Not that she was complaining. Slender fingers would be able to bring her to just as satisfying a finish. She knew that deep down. And she was so desperate for it she couldn't hold back any of the needy thrusts.

Clearly, the girl was ready for more. Not wanting to be conspicuously gone any longer than they had to be, she plunged her middle finger straight into Ruby, curling in with great relish as her tongue began to do the same with the beautiful mouth atop her own.

"HMMMHH!"

What a loud and needy sound that fell into Winter's mouth. Yesss, that’s the spot right there, Ruby thought. She continued to push herself forward against Winter's hand while she worked at that sensitive spot inside, feeling the slender and thin finger buried inside her. But one wasn't enough. Oh no. To be truly satisfied, she needed more than that. Ruby’s hand dove down toward where Winter was working and tapping at one of her other fingers with hers lightly. Just enough to give an undoubtable hint.

But it seemed that even now, Winter couldn't be satisfied with doing this the usual way. Pausing their kiss, she panted, "You want another? Go ahead. Add another." As she said this, she switched from middle to index, pushing the rest of her hand as far out of Ruby's way as she could manage.

Trying to keep her volume down by habit, she looked down at Winter wide eyed. That wasn't something she had heard of before; born of them working together to push her to orgasm. But the way Winter was so casual about it excited her so much! It was worth a try. Holding her hand right beside Winter's, she pushed a finger inside, trusting Winter to follow.

She did, keeping pace with the entry. Of course, it wasn't quite so easy to pull off as only one of them using two fingers, but it turned out to be just doable. Having two hands in such an area forced Ruby's legs further apart, but she was young and flexible; it wasn't impossible.

"Oooh," Winter cooed as she felt a foreign digit sliding over her own, both of them buried deep in the waiting sex. "How does that feel?"

For some reason, this made Ruby shudder even more. It was one thing not to be fully in control, it was another to hand it completely over. But to share? How many times has Winter done this with others, she wondered… "S-so good…" she breathed needily, even pushing herself up against the hands right at her welcoming warmth, trying to welcome them further in.

"Yeah?" Panting heatedly, she began to move her finger at the same time as Ruby's - but she couldn't quite get the rhythm. That seemed to make her partner undulate and buck even more than she would have done under ordinary circumstances. "Mmm, you look like you're losing yourself in it… I hope it's in the best of ways."

"Nnhhhh, yeah, it d-definitely is," she assured her, holding still for a moment as she tried to sync herself up with Winter's hand. Each time it wasn't quite matched, she shuddered a little more, even squealed on top of things on occasion. She could feel her toes beginning to curl in her shoes already. Why didn't she get off inside? It would have made things more of a challenge, at least.

Winter's lips found their way to Ruby's neck as she felt her began to buck atop her, as she tried to curl at the same speed. She was also just able to get her thumb right up against her clit as she did so, hoping the slight friction from their movements would be enough to help send her into the stratosphere sooner rather than later.

Continuing to buck and twitch as her neck was kissed, the moaning was unfortunately increasing in volume. She couldn't help it one bit, it was such a strange sensation! At times when Winter would curl her finger, Ruby would in another direction, which made her feel her inner walls very slightly stretched out. That was more filling than anything. She could feel her heart beginning to race as she grasped Winter's shirt with her spare hand, and felt the few stray quivers that informed her it wouldn’t be long now.

"C-close… I-I'm close already! F-fuck! What are you doing to me?!"

"Let it happen! Oh God, Ruby - you sound so good!" Winter flexed her finger faster than ever, inwardly loving the feeling of Ruby's sliding over hers; it felt so foreign and new, added an intriguing dimension for her. Clearly, it was doing way more than for the smaller woman atop her. "Cum for me! Cum hard for me, Lady!"

God had she missed that petname. Finally, she was pushed over the edge. When Winter curled her finger one more time, and she did too, she felt them hit that sweet spot just right. That in addition to Winter's play with her clit, and she was done for. Shuddering on top of her, “Lady” moaned one more time as loud as she was able, feeling her inner walls clenching around the digits inside her. She felt her fluids getting out of control again, sprinkling Winter's leg and the seat very slightly.

But they had done it. In the car, at WEISS’S BIRTHDAY PARTY.

"Ohhh, wow," Winter breathed, gazing up at hey affectionately. "I wasn't thinking about your ejaculation problem. But… it's so hot…" Drawing away, she left a light kiss on her lips. "You'll never know how much I missed that these past few months."

For a moment, she just lay on top of Winter's front, gasping for breath and smiling with glee as she gradually came down from her high. That was something she missed for a long while. It felt like a relief to regain waht they had lost. But they were still on the clock. After a minute, she was pulling out her own and Winter's finger so she could descend. "Your turn."

"Oh… oh, that isn't necessary, Ruby," she told her earnestly as she watched the girl sink to the floorboard. "I just wanted to follow through on what I promised at the dinner table. You don't have to…"

But already Ruby was crammed into the footwell of the passenger seat. She still made sure the blanket was covering her up, but she began to brush her hands up and down Winter's thighs needily. While Ruby first needed to get off, she needed Winter as well. She needed to be the one to hear her moan again. Hitching up her skirt with each brush, she smirked.

"But I didn't get to eat yet."

While watching her down there, Winter couldn't help but sigh and smile gently at the face between her knees. After a beat, she whispered to her, "You're the most beautiful woman in the entire world."

"Hmm… Nope!" Without elaborating, she made sure to tuck the blanket over them both to keep the area covered. Anything else, Winter would just have to feel. And first thing was first, she would kiss the insides of her thighs, making her way upward toward her underwear rather quickly. While she knew Winter needed the teasing, they had a limited time-window.

And the elder woman didn't waste any time in allowing her eyes to close, to relax into the gentle motions. She was going to enjoy it, of course, but if she fought against the tiny ripples of pleasure, it would take much longer than if she rode them out.

Lady managed to nudge aside her panties with her nose again. She had a feeling it would be preferred by Winter to do so, as a gentle reminder of their play from before. One that, since Yang mentioned the dog story, was starting to make sense why she enjoyed! She at first delivered a single, small kiss before she opened her mouth wider against the folds, and went in for the kill.

If the kiss had made her sigh, the actions that followed made her moan. Winter's legs raised up to drape over Ruby's back as she opened herself up to more stimulation, more attentions from the ravenous tongue of her lover.

Lover… The title sounded accurate now. Justified. Even the strange things they had put each other through, the worries and the uncertainty, hadn't been enough to stop them from being together. All she wanted was to see that through, to become one with the only person she had ever cared about beyond friendship. To see where things led.

And right now, they were leading further and further toward Winter's finish. That tongue hadn't lost its talent, and lapped at Winter's sex readily and needily. In particular, she focused on the clit, kissing it on occasion over and over again. But she knew to add more. And a hint of that was coming as she parted the lips further with her fingers, the other hand still stroking her inner thigh.

"Ohhh, yes," Winter panted obscenely, pushing a hand into the side of Ruby's head as her back arched very slightly. "Ruby, please - more! It feels so good, I can't help it, I n-need…"

Ruby would absolutely deliver more. Keeping the lips apart, she finally gave her what she craved. Aware it would be awkward for Winter to join her down there, she entered her body with two fingers. In unison with her licking, she pumped in and out of her body with them. All the while she was smirking as she listened to the sound of her new lover.

Her other partner in addition to Penny. It was a dream come true.

The fingers instantly had Winter screaming, curling her stomach as her hungry sex tried to clamp down on them, hold them inside. It hadn't been as long for Winter since she orgasmed, but it being Ruby was enough to get her within a hair's breadth very quickly. Her lips stretched wide and her head fell back completely as she let the feeling wash over her, as a few more good thrusts sent her spinning off into an explosion of pleasure unlike any she had enjoyed in months.

Though it wasn't just the swift orgasm that ended their spontaneous session. It was a small, but sharp knock on the car window. One that made Ruby's head jerk up from under the blanket.

What she saw was a freckle-cheeked ginger smiling in at them. No one else was standing outside her car, luckily enough; only Penny, looking pleased as could be to see her girlfriend. She waved, being that the windows were up and it would probably be hard to hear her through them.

"Holy shit Penny!" Eyes snapping wide open, Ruby was quick to remove her fingers from Winter's body and pull her panties back into place. Even if Penny couldn't hear them, she still waved back, talking nervously. "U-Um… Hi! I… I meant to message you about this!"

"What?" Penny called back. "Hi!"

"Oh shit," Winter was whispering, blinking at the redhead. Even though she was clearly in a good mood, she still felt awkward that there had been no time to discuss things with Penny directly… before such an unfortunate moment!

"U-Um… Uh…" There wasn't any way to talk to Penny without yelling aimlessly in the car ,or finding her keys to start the engine and roll the window down. Even if it wasn't the most convenient of moments, she couldn't let things slide without saying a word. Resigning to it, Ruby opened the door very slightly, just enough so Penny could hear her talk. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to… to walk up and… U-Uh…"

But Penny simply flung the door wide, squatted down and embraced her girlfriend, even having to crane around Winter's leg the way she did. The genuine warmth and affection in the action told Ruby that she wasn't doing it merely for show; she had just missed her that much.

"I love my parents, but I love you, too," she breathed into Ruby's sweat-dampened hair. "So good to be back."

"W-Wha?!" More shocked than anything at first, Ruby looked at Winter with a look of confusion for a moment, until she finally embraced Penny right back, locking her arms around Penny's shoulders. Although about to grasp her, she held back with one of the hands. Penny would not appreciate that on her back!

"Awww, I missed you, too! I'm just so sorry I couldn't tackle hug you or something! This is… is awkward."

Once Ruby said that, her partner drew back with a slight pinkness in her cheeks. From experience, she knew it was more that Penny was embarrassed than that she was "turned on," of course. "Right. Well, I saw you while I was walking up to the house. Luckily, Taiyang and Qrow didn't notice, so I told them I wanted to get something my suitcase." At last, she spared Winter a bashful glance. "Hello."

"G-good to see you," she murmured, her own face redder than either of the other two.

"Still, I did want to talk to you." Drawing back from their embrace, Ruby looked toward the emerald eyes she adored so much. And then to Winter, as well. The two women she loved, both in the same place. And oddly without a single hitch. How lucky she truly was to have them both, even if it was an awkward circumstance.

"Penny, I'm sorry I’ve been such a sad sack the past few months," she told her, partially explaining for her and Winter's benefit, especially with the next line. "It was my fault for not trying to solve this sooner and letting myself mope. Honestly, I don't know how either of you put up with me sometimes…"

Both of them moved to hug her, but Winter held back when she noticed Penny was doing the same. The latter said, "Sorry, you can go first if you want."

"No, it's… Penny, I'm sorry we haven't spoken properly about this before now." Her eyes flicked toward Ruby and back. "This is an unusual situation, but not unheard of. But clearly we both care very much about Ruby. So… well, it's her decision in the end, but it seems only honest for me to ask you directly, as well. Are you sure you don’t mind? Since you and she had the pre-existing relationship."

"And please don't make a choice solely because of me," Ruby insisted, making sure Penny was looking at her while she said it. Stroking her arm gently, she went on, "Because I want you to be happy, too. I need you to be happy. I don't want you to agree with this but be hating every moment of it."

"But I'm fine." When Ruby only kept looking at her in concern, she sighed and petted her neck. "Okay… I was upset when you first told me you wanted to start going to the club and trying things with other people. But not with you. I… was more frustrated with myself for not being enough for you. For not being wired the way that most people are and not being able to give you everything."

"But you give me everything I need!" She quickly took her hand – and then in addition, took Winter's. She simply made sure Winter's was the hand they'd been doing things with, just so it didn't disturb Penny. "You both do! I don't need sex at the end of the day. It's just… fun! Like going for a walk, or to a convention, it's not a need, it's… almost a hobby! What I need is what you both give me. Love and care, and good times. And that's what I have from you both. And I love you both for it!"

After a moment, Penny smiled and told her in a gentle voice, "I know. I got over that frustration pretty quickly; it was an emotional knee-jerk response. You being happy is a lot more important, and once I realized that you would be, and it wouldn't 'cost' me anything, the rest was pretty easy to process."

"You really don't mind?" Winter asked her, voice steady despite her obvious fear. "One hundred percent sure?"

"Not at all. You have treated Ruby well; even in the story she told me about your argument, I could tell you were very distressed about what she had done and who she had done it in front of. She never said you hit her, or called her a bad person; you were just upset and trying to handle those new feelings. And other than that one incident, she has never had a bad thing to say about you."

"And I kinda blamed myself more, anyway…" Ruby began to sit upright, adjusting her position for ease of movement for Winter. "Anyway… I guess we better head back inside. They'll be wondering where we are."

"Not just yet," Penny said. "Winter, come here a moment."

Bewildered, the taller woman leaned down, taking the moment to right her seat as she did so. It was going to squeeze Ruby a bit, but she was small enough so that she could still easily extract herself. "Yes? Oh!"

"I love you," Penny told her gently as she embraced her. "I have never hated or resented you. What you can do for Ruby is very important because she's important to me. So I don't want you worrying about me; I know you're going to keep treating her well, so I have no reason to be worried, either."

Smiling gratefully, Ruby looked back and forth between both her girlfriends. This was all she could ask for; her two favourite people being okay with one another's company. It would certainly make things easier. Giggling to herself, she suggested, "Maybe one day we can all have a cuddle pile. We’ll need a bigger bed, of course."

"You're welcome to move in with me," Winter told them easily. "Either to all sleep in the same bed, or I could convert my office. But I'm sure you'd rather have your own apartment."

"That would be preferable to me. Not saying we couldn't sleep over at your place." Penny drew back from the hug so she could lay one of her hands on Ruby's shoulder, even as the other remained on Winter's back. "On evenings when you two don't want to have sex, of course; I wouldn't want you worrying about what I'm going to do with myself while you do."

"Well first we'll need to tell dad." Finally getting out from the small space, Ruby took the blanket to finally clean her hand, passing it over to Winter for her to do the same once Penny had let go. "He'll probably be all weepy that his kids have finally left, but he'll help us move."

"Very true." Then Penny beamed at her, cheeks bunching. "Ohh, I'm so happy - you look so much more like yourself than you have the past months!"

Penny threw both arms around her and went in for a big, affectionate kiss. She kissed back gratefully, allowing a moment to open her mouth a little wider to kiss deeper. "MMM!" She suddenly pulled back before Penny went too far, laughing nervously. "That… uh… that’s not a good idea right now. W-we just…"

But the ginger was already smacking her lips in vague confusion. "Oh… right, now I remember what you were doing before I knocked. Well… I guess that's my fault for forgetting, isn't it?" Her cheeks were getting rosier, but her smile was no less satisfied at their circumstances. "Um… I hope she doesn't mind."

"Me?" Winter asked, smiling herself now. Even though it was odd knowing her essence was on this more-or-less stranger’s tongue now, it wasn’t exactly the first time that had happened. "No, not at all! Why should I mind? I just- well, if you're asexual, I didn't… that wouldn't have been something I wanted to happen. But if you're not upset about it, why should I be?"

"You don't taste that different from Ruby, really. No need to be worried." Then she turned back to Ruby and made an even bigger show of kissing her right on the mouth. "It's who I'm kissing that's important, not where their mouth has been. Unless it’s on someone who has been sick, because I don’t want to catch their germs."

Blushing rather deeply, Ruby smiled back at Penny bashfully. She always was able to leave her a giddy mess, even if it was through flattery.

But worried that they really would be missed if they stayed any longer, she finally made an effort to unfold herself from the car, soon followed by Winter. Penny and Ruby headed inside first to avoid suspicion. At least this way, she had the excuse that she was waiting for her when she left to go to the bathroom. Then a few minutes later came Winter, who had “just finished her business”. Yang slid Penny her diet-specific food, along with a few sandwiches and snacks for Ruby and Winter before Qrow and Taiyang could stuff their faces.

"Goodness, Winter, that took forever," Weiss observed from where she was showing one of the women from Fènleng's daycare a photo album. "Business or pleasure?"

"A little of both," she hedged. "How's the party going? Did you get everything you wanted?"

"I did! Thank you for the music box, I didn't know they sold them with any of my songs."

At that, Winter had to smile. "They don't; it was a custom job." God bless Etsy. When Weiss broke away from the other woman to give her a hug, she laughed and hugged back. "Happy birthday."

Smiling contentedly at them, Ruby mostly stood by Penny or hung back by herself, with the main people she knew all busy talking to other party guests. Still, it was the happiest she had felt in months. As she watched her lovers spending time with friends and family, she relaxed back against the wall with her punch. Everything was copacetic.

Until a hand landed on her shoulder. "Hey there, Red."

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Ruby looked straight around to the source. "U-uncle Qrow! Sorry, I forgot you were coming!"

Her uncle laughed confidently, lowering his hand as he stood to one side of her, also leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, Yang sorta insisted. And I kinda needed the day out. It's nice to see the inside of somewhere other than the same old same-old."

"Yeah. I can imagine…" Unable to help it, Ruby was already growing nervous again. She hadn't even discussed anything with Qrow since finding out his living situation – and more. She was too afraid to in case it made things awkward, and lead to awkward questions. But that wasn't helping here at all when she realised she had nothing to say.

But Qrow beat her to it. "So, you and Snowbird sorted things out yet?" When Ruby blinked up in surprise at him, Qrow cut her off before she could speak. "Yeah, I know. Not only did she talk about it, but I saw a beady li’l eye watch me head to my room. You've never been the sneakiest of kids, Ruby."

"Great," the redhead muttered in embarrassment. While looking down at the floor instead however, she did add, "But yes… we talked it out. A-and… it went really well. Everything’s cool."

"Good to hear." Taking a sip of his drink, he sighed easily. Never was one to have ruffled feathers. "Maybe this means she'll be less gloomy. I mean, I tried to cheer her up, but there was only so much I could do."

"Please don't tell me how." Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to push the mental image of her other girlfriend with her uncle back out of her mind. Nobody needed that in their life. "I-I know it was selfish of me… to get mad over such a dumb reason. I think it's because you're more or less a second dad to me."

"You got that right," he laughed. "But, yeah, I wouldn't wanna imagine my pa doing anything with my girl, either. And I guess that's what first came to mind for ya." Though after a while, he cleared his throat, looking with a contented smile toward her. "I really am happy for you both, though. Winter's a special gal, anyone could tell you that. And I can't think of a better match for her than you."

"Qrow…" Against her will, she could feel her eyes beginning to well up. She had expected the conversation to be awkward with him, especially since he clearly enjoyed Winter's company as well. Managing to hold them back, she nodded. "Thank you… I just hope I can do right by her and Penny. Gonna be interesting figuring it all out."

"Kid, you get two birthdays and two Christmas presents now. But I guess that goes both ways." Giving a small pat on her shoulder, he smirked. "Say bye bye to your money."

"Ah, but Ruby is my sub," Winter muttered as she snuck up behind them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Typically, I'll be buying her the gifts. And Qrow has seen the one you gave me hanging up in my 'special' closet."

"The one I-" Although immediately her eyes opened wide when she realised what that was, Qrow could only laugh at her reaction. “You put that on your wall?! But it was just a doodle!”

He mussed her hair slightly. "Don't look so shocked! When I first saw it, I thought she had it done by a professional. Had no idea it was you, squirt!"

Smiling gently, Winter leaned a little closer to Ruby, but still spoke in a tone they could both hear. "All teasing aside, it’s one of my favourite things. You’re really talented and I hope you keep it up."

Then, so quickly that none of the other guests would spot it, she left a tiny kiss behind Ruby's ear. But of course one did, and rolled his eyes. "God, you two, get a room. I'm gonna hang out with Tai and Jacques, see how they're getting along. Grumpy Old Men sequel over there. Take it easy."

And finally he left them on their own. Probably for the best, seeing as the smaller sub's cheeks were glowing red with their typical embarrassment. A side effect of all the affection she would have to get used to. The moment Qrow was well out of earshot, along with the rest of the party, Winter changed the subject.

"You're mine again. We'll have to think of some new fun things to do with you. How about… next time I take you for a walk at the Clamp, we see about slipping a pair of vibrating panties under your suit? Wouldn't that be fun?"

The blush only intensified even more at that idea. The walk alone was enough to do that! "Maybe…" She swallowed nervously. "It'd certainly be… interesting."

"Maybe we'll both wear a pair." Another furtive glance, and she ghosted a hand over Ruby's hind end. "The car was a preview of… coming attractions. There's a lot more in your future."

And with even more of a red blush, Ruby was beginning to sink further and further down the wall in embarrassment. She would be quite a sight for the rest of the evening, but didn't wish for anything else.

"I hope I can get used to this again…"

"Get used to what?" Penny asked as she walked up to them, sliding her hands around Ruby's waist and kissing her gently on the cheek. The action pushed Ruby's behind into Winter's hand again, which squeezed it very slightly.

Lady couldn't wish for anything more under the stars than surviving the embrace and love of her two favourite women. But clearly, history had proven she wasn't afraid to try.

= End =

= Stay Tuned for White Noise: Sister Midnight =

#Lady Stardust #ruby x winter #rwby smut #rwbyremnants #rwby fanfiction #nsfw-Text

11 notes · View notes

andrewmoocow · 3 years

Text

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 17: Together Forever (originally posted on July 5, 2021)

AN: Welcome back my loyal readers! Sorry to keep you all waiting these past few months, but I know the wait will really be worth it. The final two parts of Alternate Future might be some of my greatest writings yet, and I'm more than excited to share it all with you starting today. Now without further ado….

Synopsis: Steven tries to become Connie's official boyfriend.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Charlyne Yi as Ruby

Erica Luttrell as Sapphire

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Kimberly Brooks as Cherry Quartz

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Featuring Ray Chase as George Ikari

Pearl stood in line at the Buddwick Public Library alongside many other parents and parental figures like her, waiting as a bearded, glasses-wearing Japanese-American man signed books at a table.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to not be from around here, right?" a single dad standing behind Pearl asked her.

"Well, technically yes," Pearl informed the father. "I come from a planet of beings similar to myself who are all based around gemstones, which explains my appearance. Also, just last week I helped save your world from a sociopathic revolutionary, so you're welcome."

"You foreigners say the craziest things!" the father giggled in disbelief of Pearl, who just groaned flatly as the line began to pick up.

Eventually, Pearl was at the front of the line and now face to face with childcare author George Ikari, who had his fingers clasped together as he gazed at Pearl.

"Let me guess, you are here because of your own son, daughter, or whatever pronouns your child prefers to be dubbed?" George asked Pearl while he took out another copy of his book, titled "When Your Child Wants Time Apart", to sign for the Gem.

"Well, he's not really my son, but Steven is the closest thing my team, the Crystal Gems, have to one after his mother died giving birth to him." Pearl explained as George got to signing. "And that's not even getting into the fact that his mother was a former despotic alien conqueror who grew tired of her life and the constant neglect from her fellow despots, so she faked her death because of how much she valued your planet as part of a big war, then thousands of years later she met a rock star and fell in love with him before they consummated their relationship and she gave up her physical form to give birth to Steven."

George just stared in shock at Pearl's tale before she tried to continue. "And just last week, there was this other Gem with a vendetta against Steven's mother who tried to destroy the planet and kill us a-"

"Stop." George commanded Pearl with a raise of his hand before handing over the signed book. "Just take the book and leave. Your tales are holding up the line."

"What did I tell ya, foreigners say the craziest things!" the single father from before laughed.

"I'm deeply sorry Mr. Ikari, it's just that Steven has been going through some rough times lately." Pearl apologized to the author.

"I completely understand miss." George said while pulling out his phone to show Pearl a picture of his own son, a young man with scruffy brown hair, a white dress shirt, and a nervous expression on his face. "My son Shane has had his fair share of troubles ever since his mother died, troubles that he insisted on running away from rather than facing them maturely."

"Just like Steven." Pearl compared the two boys sympathetically. "I am deeply sorry for your loss sir."

"Thank you for your kindness." George smiled, putting away his phone. "The best thing I feel could work for a situation like this is to let things play out and discuss his problems when the time is right."

"Thank you very much George." Pearl thanked the author as she finally began to leave the library with her new book in hand. "Though I doubt that'll be of any use to Steven."

Not too far away from the library, Steven was sitting in his room talking to Connie on the phone while she was on her study break.

"Wow Connie, looks like you got all this college stuff figured out." Steven laughed with his dear human friend over his phone.

"I've got a whole plan figured out for early admission into the University of Jayhawk, but I'm still not sure about my major," Connie explained to Steven. "Maybe I should major in political science and minor in sociology, or perhaps the other way around."

"Did all our galactic adventures together get you interested in politics?" Steven asked.

"Maybe." Connie chuckled. "But I'm thinking more down to earth, as far as long-term careers go." As the two laughed at Connie's pun, the timer on her phone began to go off. "Wow, fifteen minutes went by pretty fast."

"Aw man, these study breaks are too short." Steven complained before he realized something. "Hey wait, you left a brochure at my place last time." He stated, pulling out a brochure for Connie's college of choice to show her. "You want it back?"

"It's alright Steven, I still have two more, and the Internet too." Connie answered smiling.

"Oh, right." Steven realized. "Well, call me when you still wanna hang out, okay?"

"You know I will, silly!" Connie beamed. "Okay, for real now, bye!"

After Connie ended the call, Steven turned over on his back and gazed at the brochure in his hands. "The University of Jayhawk, huh?" he muttered to himself. "And how far is that from here?" Steven then opened up the brochure to learn how far the distance between Beach City and the university's location in Kansas was. "Oh, that far."

Once again, Steven began to glow pink as he sadly sank into his bed, fretting over how little often he'd be able to see Connie regularly. Gazing at his rose-colored hand, he then started pondering on whether he should do something about this new condition, as he had been thinking about since the titanic battle with Black Rutile.

Soon, Steven had decided to get up off his bed and walk downstairs, to which he found Garnet standing in the living room dressed in a hat and kerchief. "Oh Garnet, you're still here?"

"Steven." Garnet greeted Steven tersely.

"I could really use your advice right now." Steven declared racing over to the fusion. "It's about-"

"Not right now Steven, I gotta split." Garnet cut Steven off before un-fusing into Ruby and Sapphire.

"I'm terribly sorry Steven, but I'm running late for my lecture on alternate timelines." Sapphire apologized while taking off the scoutmaster's hat and giving it to Ruby, along with a kiss on the cheek, before racing off to her lecture. "See you soon!"

"Sapphire might be going, but you still got good ol' Ruby to talk to." Ruby said to Steven as she went to fetch a backpack. "Let's walk and talk scout, I got things to do."

"Oh, okay." Steven agreed as he followed Ruby to the Warp Pad, and the two set off.

Later that day, Steven had joined Ruby's class, consisting of Onion, Zebra Jasper, and Little Larimar, as they strolled through the woods on a gorgeous afternoon. When the class got to a good stopping point near a stump, Ruby hopped up on the stump to speak. "Okay everyone, you remember what we learned last week, right?" she asked her students. "Well, today is the day! Brace yourselves, 'cause today we're sketching nature and the animals around us!"

Onion and his Gem classmates excitedly took out their notepads to draw on as Ruby continued. "Draw to your heart's content scouts!" Ruby declared. "Feel the beauty of everything around you, and you'll have the honor of receiving this Nature Sketching Badge!" She then presented a patch depicting a paint palette and brush in front of depictions of a wolf and a bird. "Got that? Now get to drawing!"

As soon as the three pupils left to go draw the beauty of nature around them, Ruby took it as her cue to jump down from the stump to talk with Steven. "So, what did you need Garnet for?"

"It's about Connie." Steven admitted to the small red Gem. "Every time I talk with her, I feel like she knows exactly what to do with her life, mostly thanks to her parents, and I don't. When we're together as Stevonnie, I feel so ready for anything, but on my own, I feel so lost. Just, what do I want with life?"

"That's tough Steven." Ruby declared sympathetically.

"Exactly!" Steven replied. "Connie is gonna go super far away for college, and I'm gonna be stuck here in Beach City where barely anything can go right for me nowadays and I don't know what to do about them! I want to be with Connie forever, like how you and Sapphire are basically together forever as Garnet!" That was when he came to a conclusion. "Wait, if I want to be together with Connie, then she's my future!"

Steven's revelation made Ruby super excited, and she began scuttling in place with stars in her eyes, her rapid footsteps creating a small fire beneath her feet. "STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" she cheered, but stopped short once she noticed the fire she created. "Oh my gosh, one sec!" Ruby quickly ran off and came back with a towel that she used to put it out. "Anyways, STEVEN, YOU GOTTA PROPOSE!"

"Wait, propose?!" Steven exclaimed in shock. "But, we're only teenagers, we can't get married yet! But then again…"

"Don't say you haven't thought of it!" Ruby added cheerfully. "Besides, aren't there couples in this country that get married at 18 or something?"

"Y-yeah, I thought of it." Steven began blushing, which he tried to hide within his jacket. "I mean, we just had this discussion."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Ruby yelled happily while jumping up and grabbing onto his head. "DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! DO IT LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"

"Are you still really sure?" Steven asked the overly eager Gem. "As I said, Connie and I are still only teenagers."

"C'mon, we told you about how it worked for Sapphire and I." Ruby responded. "And if you're successful, you'll have the honor of receiving this!" She presented Steven with a badge depicting one figure popping the question to another. "The Proposal Badge! And if you're not so sure, well, seeing the future would be really helpful here."

Steven gasped, knowing just who Ruby was implying.

Far away from Ruby, Sapphire sat down with her class, made up of the Watermelon Tourmaline fusion, two of the Nephrites, Orange Spodumene, Cherry Quartz, and Angel Aura Quartz, while drawing lines in the sand with a stick.

"Okay class, let's begin our lesson." Sapphire announced to her students when she spotted Steven racing towards her with a big smile on his face. "Ah, Steven. I've been expecting you."

"Hi, Sapphire." Steven greeted Sapphire. "I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but I got big news! I've been thinking about my future with Connie lately, and a chat with Ruby convinced me that I should propose!"

"Wait, don't you have to wait until you're a grown-up to do that?" Cherry Quartz inquired with a raise of her hand.

"Let me guess, you're here because of my future vision?" Sapphire asked. "Let's run the numbers then." She then let Steven stand next to her before beginning to speak to her class. "Okay class, let's review what we've learned today." She began while drawing complex math equations in the sand. "Using the concepts we discussed so far, let us calculate the probability of Steven succeeding in asking Connie to marry him. Let's begin with the probability that she'll want to spend her life with someone, and then we'll multiply that by the differential factor in sociocultural marriage acceptance. Next, we multiply that by a possibly happy cohabitation, the factor of fear of engagement, the intensity of the love you share, and finally the robustness of your goals in life." As Sapphire finished her equation, she finally turned back to Steven. "Are you following so far, Steven?"

"Uh, maybe?" Steven answered as he stared at the equation Sapphire had jotted down for him in the sand, but it wasn't long before the ocean tides began to wash them away. "Oh no, your work!"

"And there we have it." Sapphire declared with a chuckle. "Don't you get it, Steven? My marriage to Ruby, our fusion as Garnet, it eluded my future vision for so long, defied the odds, and perhaps even changed the course of time itself!" she declared encouragingly. "We could just write equations in the sand all day, but then a wave of chance can come crashing in and wash everything away! Love is truly unquantifiable! Even with my gift of clairvoyance, I know far better than anyone that love can make the impossible possible! And that is why I say do it! Do it, Steven, just do it!"

"Yeah, you're right!" Steven began getting pumped up before turning to Sapphire's class. "Get one last good look at me, everyone, because after today you're gonna be calling me Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran!"

The class began cheering vibrantly, bringing a big smile to Steven's face as he finally realized what his future now held.

As the afternoon slowly began to give way to evening, Ruby and Sapphire reunited by rushing towards each other on the sand, excited about the big proposal.

"Steven told me first, and I led him to you!" Ruby cheered, spinning her little blue wife around by the waist.

"I told him to go for it!" Sapphire laughed. "Oh, it's going to be so wonderful!"

As the two fused back into Garnet, she stood still for a few moments, contemplating her components' decisions before coming to one of her own. "I take full responsibility for their actions." Just then, Garnet heard footsteps and found Pearl walking behind her, her pointy nose stuck in a book. "Pearl, I'm guessing you want to see me about the book you're reading."

"I was just thinking about calling up you and Amethyst," Pearl announced as her gaze turned from the pages to her leader. "Where's Steven?"

"Oh, nothing much," Garnet answered. "Just going to make a rash decision that'll emotionally damage him in the long run."

"Oh, that's ni-" Pearl began before she did a double-take. "WAIT, WHAT?!"

As for Steven, he was too busy getting ready for an evening with Connie without a care in the world, picking up a cake from Spacetries that said 'Together forever!' on it, buying some flowers from Crazy Lace Agate, lighting up the glow bracelet that brought him & Connie together to begin with and dressing up in some nice clothes. If all goes well, he would soon become Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran.

Meanwhile, at Connie's house, Connie kept on studying for the University of Jayhawk when she heard a roar coming from outside her window. Walking over to the window, she discovered Steven parked outside her home with Lion by his side.

"Evening Connie, how are you doing?" Steven asked his ladylove.

"Steven?" Connie replied. "What are you doing here, and why are you all dressed up like that?"

"You got a fifteen-minute study break in two minutes, right?" Steven inquired, gazing at his watch to check if his timing is correct.

"Whoa, spot-on!" Connie exclaimed, gazing at her phone to learn that he was indeed right. "So, what did you come here for?"

"You want to go for a walk with me?" Steven offered. "I'm sure you could use some fresh air."

"That's very sweet Steven." Connie smiled. "I'd really love to, but I-"

"Don't worry, we can take Lion, and then I'll bring you home in fifteen!" Steven declared with a thumbs up.

"Okay, let's do this!" Connie accepted the offer and left her room to meet Steven outside, taking a moment to tell her parents along the way. "Bye Mom and Dad, I'm spending my study break with Steven!"

Once Connie was out the door, she and Steven mounted on Lion's back and he ran away from the Maheswaran residence.

"Remember when we first met here?" Steven asked Connie as they dismounted from Lion and began walking down the beach.

"You mean when you tried riding a bike in the sand and then started running away screaming?" Connie replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I was trying to get your attention." Steven added.

"Last I remember, I was more focused on my book than your silly antics." Connie stated.

"Well, that all happened right here." Steven declared, gesturing to a picnic at the very spot where he and Connie first met all those years ago. "You like what I have here?"

"Steven!" Connie exclaimed in awe at the picnic set before them. "I don't know what to say! I also can't believe you still remember this exact spot!"

"I just remember it like it was yesterday!" Steven exclaimed just as eagerly before running over to a nearby rock to sit on.

"This is too cute." Connie squealed while blushing.

"And without further ado," Steven announced as he picked up a guitar to play while Connie sat down. "There's something very important that I'd like to tell you today." With that, he started strumming the guitar and began to sing. "I'd rather be tall, I'd rather be smart, I'd rather be sure you know I care." He sang for Connie. "Wherever you go, wherever you start, I'd rather be sure you know I'm there. I'd rather I always be a part of whatever you do. I'd rather be me, with you."

Although Connie was a little turned off by the deeper meaning of Steven's song, she chose to just keep those feelings hidden to not hurt Steven's while he continued singing. "Wherever we go, I already trust, I'd know what to do if it were us. I'd know what to say, I'd know how to be, I'd know your entire syllabus." Steven continued as the song reached its climax. "I can't think of any other thing in the world that I would rather do. If I could be, I'd rather be me with you."

"Oh Steven, that's so beautiful!" Connie applauded the love song. "If a little unsettling, but I'd rather not say it out loud because-" Steven then got down on one knee and presented him her old glow bracelet. "Huh?"

"Connie, will you marry me?" Steven popped the question at last.

"Come again?" Connie asked, completely taken off guard by such a proposal.

"Let's get married and live together as Stevonnie, just like Garnet!" Steven reiterated for his possible wife.

"Are you serious?" Connie chuckled at the marriage proposal. "I think we should talk about this first."

"You might think I'm being sentimental, but this makes sense!" Steven exclaimed. "I don't know what you'll be studying, but I'm sure Stevonnie will! We can go to Jayhawk together!"

"I really appreciate this little date, but come on! You're still young!" Connie said as she stood up. "And acting a little clingy, I might add." She added under her breath.

"What was that?" Steven asked Connie.

"Nothing!" Connie lied. "Like I said, we're still young. And even if some couples get married at like, eighteen, I don't think we're fit to be one of those."

"So, you don't want to be Stevonnie with me?" Steven asked despondently, but Connie was there to comfort him.

"Of course I'd want to be Stevonnie, but I'd like to be my own person too," Connie answered reassuringly. "You get that, right?"

"Yeah, but," Steven began while putting the bracelet away as Connie hugged him. "Is it a no?"

"I'd say it's not right now." Connie answered.

"But if we're going to spend our lives together, why didn't you say it now?" Steven kept on inquiring fretfully.

"We got plenty of time." Connie declared, moving on from hugging Steven to holding his hands. "Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried, honest." Steven tried correcting his best friend. "I'm just happy when I'm with you."

"I'm happy around you too." Connie replied. "It's just that-" Before Connie could finish, the alarm on her phone went off. "Oh snap, my alarm!" she yelped in realization while pulling her phone out. "Forget studying right now, I don't think it matters."

"But it does matter to you!" Steven yelled.

"And you're just as important!" Connie responded, beginning to notice Steven getting more stressed out.

"I'm fine, we can talk about it later." Steven began rapidly panting. "Look, Lion's still right there, you can go now."

"Are you sure Steven?" Connie wondered sympathetically. "You're looking a little on edge. Maybe I can hook you up with a good therapist. She's a good friend of my mom named Dr. Rebe-"

"I'm sure I'm fine." Steven cut Connie off. "Now go."

"Okay." Connie obliged before giving Steven a goodbye hug. "I'll call you again tomorrow at noon." She said before walking towards Lion to have him take her home.

"Have fun studying!" Steven continued putting up a happy front as he bid Connie farewell. But as soon as she was out of sight, that front completely fell. "Nobody I love ever wants to stay."

With that, Steven fell back-first to the sand and turned pink, the resulting impact ruining the nice picnic around him as he wallowed in a crater of his sadness, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

Many hours later, Steven kept on lying in the crater long into the night with tears in his eyes, and when he finally decided to get up, Garnet was there waiting for him with the picnic basket containing the cake still intact.

"I assume it didn't go well." Garnet theorized as she helped Steven up from the crater and began walking him home.

"I don't get it," Steven muttered cynically. "Ruby and Sapphire said I should go for it, and I did, but everything went wrong."

"I apologize on their behalf," Garnet stated. "You just can't trust love advice from hopeless romantics like those two."

"Then why didn't you stop me?" Steven asked the fusion.

"I couldn't see a future where you didn't try proposing to Connie," Garnet answered. "However, there were quite a few where after she said no, you forced her to fuse with you and subsequently went insane."

"Of course." Steven moaned. "Even in alternate timelines, nothing can ever go right for me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Garnet comforted her half-human ward with a hug to the side. "Your soulmate should be your complement, not a missing piece. Ruby and Sapphire may deeply love each other, but they still have their own thoughts, feelings, and lives." The pair soon reached the beach house and sat down on the steps together. "Whatever hole you have in your life Steven, I want you to know that Connie or Stevonnie might not fill it."

"It's just that you guys make it so easy!" Steven revealed as he took the basket from Garnet. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but it's kinda your fault for being so dang perfect!"

"I know you're upset Steven, and I take responsibility for your plight," Garnet apologized to Steven. "but blaming others as much as you blame yourself won't help."

"Then maybe shoving this adorable cake in my face will!" Steven declared as he opened the picnic basket to reveal that the cake was in pieces.

"It probably won't." Garnet deadpanned, but Steven didn't listen and started eating the broken cake anyways.

"Well, I'm still gonna do it!" Steven exclaimed, his mouth now full of cake.

"I know," Garnet added as she gazed up at the sky. However, what she didn't catch was a fly buzzing around her and Steven, and its green eyes started blinking.

"Ah, romance. So utterly futile." Black Rutile grimaced as she watched the live footage of Steven drowning his sorrows in cake through a hard light welding mask. "Still, all that trauma could be useful in the future."

As Black Rutile was spectating on Steven's pain, she was hard at work on her plans for revenge, using a blowtorch to put together the final touches on a special wrist-mounted device. Once she was done, the villainous Rutile aimed the device at a rock carved into the exact shape of White Diamond's gem and fired. The resulting blast destroyed the rock and left a massive cloud of ash where it once was, but she wasn't satisfied with the smattering of pebbles that once made up the rock.

"Hm, need to work on the disintegration aspect a bit more." Black Rutile pondered while retracting the welding mask into her visor and began going back to the drawing board.

Guess who's back? Back again? Black Rutile's back, she's no friend! And on that rather sad turned ominous note, we conclude the first chapter of Part 3. Now that we have Steven's romance issues out of the way, expect to see the following in the coming chapters, in no particular order.

Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl re-enact Ace Attorney while Steven becomes even more scarred for life.

Viva Los Diego! Lapis & Amethyst get involved with a James Bond parody, Garnet & Bismuth solve mysteries together with a police officer who's basically the Plumber from Ratchet and Clank, Pearl matches wits with a snooty film director who's like Michael Bay, David Cage, Neil Druckmann & Zack Snyder in one, and Peridot tries promoting her CPH reboot.

Steven hangs out with Spinel and plays basketball with Wolverine.

Peridot finally gets her own song.

Jasper finally gets her own song.

A certain Stevonnie-chasing jerk dares Steven to reform him.

And finally, Black Rutile plays a role in a certain event in Fragments, the final chapter of this part.

Have I gotten your interest yet? Good, cause strap in everyone, it's gonna be nuts.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #ruby #sapphire #pearl #lion steven universe #black rutile

5 notes · View notes

pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Meeting the Parents pt 2

Chapter 12 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I’m on fire with these ATB chapters once I got to 5 in my drafts I thought I better release one! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & Light Angst

Word Count: 1832

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

"Is he mine?!" she seems a bit taken aback by his question, she wasn't expecting to see him again.

He asks again "Is he my son?" it's almost a hiss.

"No! No, he's not" she understands why he would think he is considering the timescale "I did a DNA test when he was born, he's Anthony's"

Harry is relieved, "You're one hundred percent?" she nods "I can show you the results if you would like?" she doesn't wait for his reply she rushes off, moments later she hands him a bit of paper.

It reads at the bottom -

Alleged FATHER - ANTHONY KENNEDY

Probability of Paternity: 99.99999%

Harry feels like he can finally breathe again, he hands her back the piece of paper "Thank you and sorry I just had to know," she offers him a weak smile, "It's OK, I understand why you would think he was yours. Again, I'm sorry about what happened to us in the past and I'm glad you have moved on she seems lovely!"

His thoughts go to Laila "She is to be honest with you, she's probably the best thing that has ever happened to me" her face sours, but quickly changes as she hears her son cry "I'm coming Jasper" she turns back to Harry "Sorry, I have to go. Harry take care!" he smiles "You too"

He makes his way down the path, pulls out his phone and dials Laila's number. It rings a few times before she answers.

"Hey Harry..." He cuts her off, so she doesn't get the rest of her words out.

"He's not mine!" she lets out a breath"How do you feel about that?"

He chuckles "Relieved, Laila the thought of being tied to her because of a child...I couldn't think of anything worse. I thought I might have wanted him to be mine for a few moments but as soon as I knew he wasn't mine, I realised I didn't really want it at all"

"Well, I'm happy for you and at least that's cleared up now. You can move on from it" He can tell she's secretly relieved to as much as she tries to pretend she was OK with it.

"I'm on my way back to yours so make sure you're ready, we'll leave for my parents when I get back"

"OK, I'm nearly ready. Harry, I'm so nervous," he chuckles "No need to be! You've met my mum, one of my brothers and my sister...my dad you just need to take everything he says with a pinch of salt. He's hard on everyone until they get to know him"

"Great....anyway. I'll see you in a bit, I love you" He laughs "See you soon! I love you too"

Later they arrive at his parents house, Harry lets himself in with his fingers entwined. Laila's heart is racing with nerves, "Mum, Dad?" he calls out "Harry! We're out the back" They make their way through the house towards garden "Laila! How are you?" Rose welcomes her with open arms.

Harry puts him down and pulls Laila over to the table "Arthur and Izzy you've already met Laila, but Dad, Brad, Will, Sophie, Claire and Ruby this is my girlfriend Laila, Laila this is my Dad Colin, and my brothers Will and Brad and their wives Ruby, Sophie and Claire" His brothers and their wives offer her a warm welcome but Colin doesn't even look up at her.

"Hi, Rose! It's nice to see you again!" Laila smiles at her, she notices the rest of the family round a table "Uncle Harry!!" a little boy runs over colliding with him, Harry picks him up "Hey Cohen! This is my girlfriend Laila!" Cohen looks over to her "She's pretty" Laila smirks "Thank you! You are adorable!" Cohen smiles.

Take everything with a pinch of salt! She thought, "I knew something was going on with you two! I saw the way he looked at you at the sky gardens!" Izzy winks at her, they take a seat Harry doesn't let go of her hand.

"We were in the early stages of dating at time" Laila smiles at her. She hears Colin sniggers, but she chooses to ignore it when she feels Harry give her hand a tiny squeeze.

A little while later dinner is served "Laila, are you left handed?" Colin asks "Erm..no, no I'm not," she smiles at him "So, why are you holding your knife and fork like a left handed person? It's a bit ill mannered?" he hisses. "Sorry, I always have used them this way..." he cuts her off "What do you do for a living?"

"Oh, I'm a hairdresser" he sniggers again "So not a doctor then..what a shame!"

"Dad!" Harry hisses at him "Harry, it's fine!" she smiles softly at him. Pinch of salt! She thought.

"And your parents?" Colin asks "My parents? Well, they own a pub" Colin laughs "Of course they do! Talk about lower class and cliché"

This comment makes her blood boil she jumps out of her seat, throwing down her cutlery "Say what you want about me, but don't you dare talk about my family!" She says pointing her finger at him "My parents are worth 10 of you!! You are nothing, but a miserable, snobby, rude old git! I will not sit here like everyone else and let you get away with talking to me or about my family like that!" she storms off through the house and out the front door.

Harry chases her calling after her "Laila! Wait!" He catches up to her, gently grasping her arm, making her turn "Laila, I'm sorry I should have spoken up...I should've never let him speak to you like that. It's just that's the way he is. I know that's no excuse"

"I get it..he's your dad, we make allowance for family. I shouldn't have say anything" Harry chuckles "No! I'm glad you did..That is what I love most about you. You don't take crap from anyone, you speak your mind and no one has to second guess where they are with you"

Behind Harry, Laila spot Colin stands in the doorway. Harry eyes follow in her direction "Harry, if he's here for round 2, I swear to god I will not be responsible for my actions" Harry chuckles "As much as I would love for you to deck him..." she cuts him off "Don't you think I can take the old man?" she asks.

He laughs "I have no doubt that you can take the old man! But let's just hear what he has to say? I promise I will step in if he's out of line again," she rolls her eyes "Fine" Harry takes her hand and they make their way over to him "Let me just warn you, you dare speak to her like you did in there so help me god" Colin can see his son will not stand by and let it happen again.

"First can I say Laila, I'm a protective old fool, I just don't want him hurt like last time. You were right in there, when you called me a miserable, rude old git. No one has ever pulled me up on how I speak to people and for that I respect you"

"You forgot snobby!" Laila hissed, Colin laughs at her "I also forgot to say sorry which I truly am sorry and if you will allow it can we start again?"

"OK, I'm also sorry for what I called you" Colin laughs "You have nothing to apologize for everything you said in there was spot on. Now let's go back inside"

They follow Colin back to the garden as they walk in his brothers clap "Keep hold of this one Harry! We like her!" Will laughs "Don't worry I intend to!" he winks at Laila.

Later, Harry is playing football with the kids Cohen, Ethan, Bobby and Lara while Laila is colouring with Mila "Do you love my Uncle Harry?" Mila looks up at her "I do" Mila smiles "He loves you too. Are you going to marry him?" Laila smirks she loves how kids are so blunt "Maybe one day"

"Maybe one day?" she hears him asks over her shoulder. Great! She thought. "I asked Laila will she marry you. She said maybe one day!" Mila giggle, Laila blushes as Harry takes a sit down next to her "You're all sweaty!" Laila wipes his brow "Yeah, those 4 have been ganging up on me. 4 against 1 can you guess who won!" Laila laughs at him.

"Not you?" she winks "Got that right!" Harry grabs Laila's hand as she's colouring making her go out of the lines "Harry!! Look what you made me do!" he chuckles at her and does it again "Harry! Stop it!" she hisses "Or what?" he asks.

She takes the felt tip pen and draws on his face "Laila!" she smirks, Mila giggles "What? I'm colouring out of the lines like you wanted me to," he smirks as he shook his head, "You are so going to regret that!" he's quick, he takes a red felt tip pen off the blanket they are sitting on and aims for her face, but she dodges it. He goes in again she falls back against the blanket, Harry grasps her hands pinning them, so she can't stop him. She's laughing "Harry, don't you dare!"

Moving towards her face with the pen between his teeth as his hands pin down hers, she's laughing "Harry" as he gets closer Mila pulls the pen from his mouth and uses it on him "Argh! Mila, you're suppose to be on my team!" he lets go of Laila, Mila gets up and makes a run for it. Harry is about to chase after her, but Laila grabs his ankle making him fall to the ground.

She gets up and makes a run for it after Mila, they're both giggling as they run from him. Before they get to far, Harry's arms come around both their waist's "Gotcha both!" he begins to tickle them and they both fall to the ground trying to get away.

"Uncle Harry! Stop! I'm sorry!" Mila says through her laughter, he stops "I like Laila, Uncle Harry" Harry smiles at his niece "Me too!" he winks at Laila.

~*~*~*~

A few weeks later

Laila had arranged to meet Nikki at the park with Poppy, They are chatting when all of a sudden they hear Poppy scream.

They both rush over to her, Poppy is hysterical on the floor below the monkey bars "Pops, what's wrong?" tears steam down her face "It hurts!!" she screams "Poppy, did you fall from the bars?" Laila asks her and she nods unable to answer because of the pain.

Nikki becomes distraught "Nikki, It's going to be fine!" Laila tries to reassure her "I'll call an ambulance just in case" Laila pulls out her phone to make the call.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 13.

@shewillreadyou @lem-20 @secretaryunpaid @khoicesbyk @aussieez @txemrn @irisofpurple @casualpostqueen @shannonwrote @tea-me-kah

#atb #always the bridesmaid #pixie 88 original #pixie 88 #fiction #fictionalstory #harry x laila

10 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

interdimensional dads 5 (Finale)

Orange, Blue, and Purple all make a drum roll on the table as they stare at Red, who is sipping coffee and trying not to laugh at the lunacy that is quite literally, himself.

Jaune: Y’all dome?

*drum roll stops*

Jaune:Yep, your turn. You have to be the buffest for a reason right?

Jaune:And look like you’ve seen shit?

Jaune:We’ve all been through shit. We’re us!

Jaune:Yeah, but you’re you.

Jaune:How- I’m not arguing with that one. Okay, my turn. Since you brought it up, we, I gained weight for a little bit and eventually got back into a workout routine. I might’ve went a little overboard but no one complains.

Jaune:Alright, now we can back this story up and start from wherever you like.

Jaune:Aight, I guess I start with my universe beating Salem. By that point, Ruby and I had been together for awhile. I think we were always together to a degree ever since RNJR formed. We obviously didn’t actually say anything but the time we spent felt different. At least for me it did. Maybe mourning Pyrrha had something to do with it but by the time Yang and Weiss showed up at Haven, Ruby and I were definitely on “friendly terms”

Jaune:Aaaaayyyyeeee!

Jaune:You two are too much. Haha, let him continue.

Jaune:We were trying to keep it lowkey but I’m sure everyone knew. Back to Salem, that was insane. If you were to tell me I’d help save the world when I was only 19 then I’d laugh.

Jaune:Wait...19? I was twenty.

Jaune:Same.

Jaune: I was 21! Are you saying Ruby beat Salem at 17!? That’s insane! Which one of us has the strongest versions of our friends? I never thought about it until now.

They all got silent and thought about it for a moment. That was a very good question.

Jaune:Ummm mysterious voice? Do you have an answer to that?

[Each person varies, but a majority is between Orange and Red. For example, Orange has the strongest Blake, while Red has the strongest Sun.]

Jaune:What about in terms of team RWBY?

[The feats in all universes make that a close race. Red, Orange, and Blue have extremely powerful Yangs that would most likely in a brutal draw. Collectively, the strongest team RWBY would be a tie between Red and Orange]

Jaune:Makes sense, my worlds peaceful.

Jaune:And mine doesn’t have any organized threat against it, just the dangers of living in a world trying to grasp the concept magic and gods again.

Jaune:Well we might not have a concrete answer but I’m sure my wife beats your Ruby. After beating Salem we continued traveling the world to thin out grimm threats, just the two of us. Not that the others didn’t want to but they needed a moment to breathe. Ruby and I however, we were kinda on a high of being the heroes we always dreamed of.

Jaune:Your victory lap was more adventure? Yeah you’re definitely built different from me. My Ruby went on missions but even she took a minute just to breathe. It was a very short minute, but the minute none the less.

[Comparing the two is like comparing an lone apex wolf to a jaguar.]

Jaune:Well then....all of that sounds scary.

Jaune:It wasn’t long before we got a house together. Built it actually, in Vacou. It’s a nice little spot over looking the town and another one in the distance. When Ruby was 19 she had really gotten into her stride and was only getting started. Also, I married her. I had known for awhile that she was the one so why wait? I wanted to go on all of her adventures and create new ones with her.

Jaune:Aaaaawwwww

Jaune:Things were like walking on sunshine. All of Remnant knew about Ruby Rose, the huntress that saved the world with her friends. Then at 21, I got her pregnant. *scratches head*

Jaune:I know that scratch. That’s the “My bad” scratch!

Jaune:Okay, it wasn’t exactly planned. I was thrilled when I found out since I did want kids with her. I learned a month after she knew though because she wasn’t sure what to think at first. Ruby was perfectly happy being the hero, she hadn’t even hit her prime yet technically. When she told me though, it was after she had talked about it with Tai and thought about it. I think she might’ve been happier than me.

Jaune:My Ruby would give anything to have a kid.

Jaune:Mine would give anything for her husband back...

The mood suddenly got a little less cheery with that statement.

Jaune:Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.

Jaune:It’s fine...this next part....isn’t happy. It’s the reason I fell out of shape, and partly the reason why I look like I’ve gone through shit.

Jaune:Oh....no...

Jaune:You lost the baby?

Jaune:Yeah but uhhh, not the way you’re thinking. The pregnancy was fine, the birth was a little rough but it was fine. A little baby boy, Dustin Arc-Rose. I saw him for about five minutes and then he was stolen, by Neo and Cinder. I must’ve ran the fastest I’ve ever had that day. Faster than even Ruby can move on a good day, and yet they got away. Yang, Weiss, and I stood on the roof of that hospital and watched the airship fade into the sunset. I must’ve stayed up there for hours, screaming. Yang and Weiss kept it together for my sake but not by much.

Jaune:Dude I am....I am so sorry that you went through that.

Jaune:We showed mercy to Cinder the day we beat Salem. It came back to bite us. Things fell apart after that. I shutdown, the others felt guilty, especially Yang. As for Ruby, she broke a little. She looked longer than anyone else for a lead and drowned herself in work for about a year. In that time we didn’t talk, I never knew where she was, if she’d come back. Tai ended up taking me to live with him and unfortunately, time wasn’t gonna wait for anyone. Lives had to be lived, Yang and Blake still had to get married. It just didn’t happen with Ruby.

Jaune:How did you even find the strength to keep going after that?

Jaune:In my world, Yang is my closet friend. Thick as thieves, the two of us always try to pick each other up. She never hesitated to be by my sad whenever I asked. I don’t think I could’ve made it without her since Ruby was gone. One day however, the two of them showed up out of the blue. Ozpin had decided to confront Ruby. For once I was glad he meddling in our lives. He got her to start moving on and come back to me. That day I realized how special my friends are. Most people would’ve looked down on me for failing, not going after Ruby, breaking down, but not them. They wanted me back on my feet for my own sake. Just like they wanted for her. I’m really blessed.

Jaune:That’s good. Friendships that you want to live for, I’m glad we wall have that in common.

Jaune:Yeah. Ruby and I took some time to be together after that. No work, no leads, just healing. In that year she was gone, Ruby had become a juggernaut in the huntsman community. Even got a nickname, The Storyteller. Keeping up with someone like that meant getting back into shape. Those months we spent together gave us a slither of the joy we had missed. Eventually, thanks to Yang having her child, we found the courage to try having another one. Her name is Carmine and she’s my gorgeous daughter. We even have another son much later named Garnet.

The other three Jaune’s clap happily.

Jaune:Yeah, that’s definitely a lot of shit to go through.

Jaune:Hats off to ya.

Jaune:How’s Carmine?

Jaune:*puts head on the table* Uuuugggghhh!

Jaune:Yeah, that’s sound you make when you have a headstrong daughter. Who does she take after?

Jaune:That’s just it, she doesn’t really. Not in personality anyways. Carmine is a bit weird socially. She can be pretty blunt, making her sound rude. She doesn’t mind having friends but at the same time keeps them at arms reach. She says they would slow her down. Not to mention her and Ruby’s vision of what a huntress should be doesn’t match up perfectly so they end up butting heads on occasion. Still, Carmine is sweet if you know how to talk to her and understand her words.

Jaune:She gifted?

Jaune:*inhales*....Carmine is genius in battle. We taught her ourselves and sent her to regular school so she gained a bit of social skills. No one outside of selected few knows she has silver eyes. Carmine wears red contacts typically. New types of grimm pop up regularly so Cinder is obviously alive and well. Can’t be too careful.

Jaune:Sounds stressful. I’d rather deal with cult and my world’s grimm problem than Cinder. How old is Carmine?

Jaune: She’s 17 and more impressive than Ruby was at that age if I’m being honest. Though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. We’ve done our best to give her a normal childhood as much as possible. I think what we gave was an odd mix of normal and insanity.

Jaune:Honestly, same.

Jaune:What do you mean Carmine is more impressive? Ruby was awesome since day zero at Beacon.

Jaune:Silver eye use, age five.

......

Red took a sip of his coffee while everyone tried to wrap that around their head.

Jaune:Since a young age, I knew Carmine was special. She has a difficult time showing up but she loves the Remnant we’re trying to build and the people in it that want to do good. I’ve seen her look out over cities before and I could feel the immense desire she had to preserve it. That girl has a strength I don’t think I could take credit for. That stern look, height, hair, and guitar skills though, That’s me. The tipsy of her hair are red though. She’s like a half ripe strawberry, hahaha.

Jaune:Sounds like an incredible girl. Must be pretty popular.

Jaune:If she could come off a bit nicer she would! I’d give up Pumpkin Pete’s for life if this kid could learn to work well with others. I’m glad people like her cousin and a couple of others that can deal with her. It’s not all bad. They know to bring out the normal teenager with her.

Jaune:Is she like Ruby and panics at rats?

Jaune:No, but she can’t deal with spiders. We have grimm spiders that are actually terrifying and that ruined normal spiders with her too.

Jaune:Grimm spiders? How big? A boot size?

Jaune:SUV....one spun her in a web. It was really bad.

Jaune:Fuuuuuuck that! I’d hate spiders too!

Jaune:Yeah but she has fun. Ballet, sleep, horses, etc. You just have to get her to work up to it.

Jaune:What about your son?

Jaune:Garnet? He’s five, has fat cheeks, and is probably eating some dry cereal right about now. He’s Ruby’s little teddy bear and is chillin. He’s probably the only thing that makes Carmine a big softie at the drop of a hat.

Jaune:Sounds like you’re doing pretty well for yourself? That’s good.

Jaune:We have struggles but we make things work somehow.

Jaune:I still can’t believe Cinder killed your kid. I don’t think I’d ever recover.

Jaune:Lost....we lost a kid. Killed wouldn’t be the right word. Dustin...just isn’t....it’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.

Jaune:Sorry.

Jaune:It’s fine. That aside, I think most things life throws at us, we’ll handle just fine.

Jaune:What do you think Carmine is up to right now?

Jaune:Good question. I don’t think she’s on any mission or working with local authorities currently. If it’s morning then she’s in the garden. Playing with Garnet if it’s the afternoon so he’ll tired out. If it’s night time then.....

xxxx

“STAY AWAY!!!” A man screamed, shooting four bullets down a dark alley in the middle of the night. His target, a pair of shimmering red eyes that patiently stalked him from the shadows as he sprinted away. Each bullet seem to go right by his target so he continued running for his life, making a sharp right turn around a corner.

“You know eventually I’m going to catch you right?” Carmine said as she walked. “I’d rather you not make this longer than it has to be Tommy. We could be done by now if you just spoke to me.”

The only response the girl received was the sound of footsteps getting further away and a chain link fence being shook. Carmine sighed and looked around her before picking up a trash lid. She hurled it against a wall to her left and that was ahead in front of her, making it bounce off towards the right. The hunk of metal made its way around the corner with a whack! Followed by a heavy thump that hit the ground. Carmine continued walking until she turned the corner and found her target on the ground. He was rubbing his back in pain and groaning.

“Come on, I know I didn’t hit you that hard. The new head of crime orginization wouldn’t go down so-”

Suddenly the brute lunged at her, revealing a previously concealed dagger. Carmine was quick to react however, and grabbed his wrist before the blade could make contact with her exposed stomach. Carmine then twisted his hand down word and forced his entire arm slam down to the groun; the blade pierced the ground at her feet. Thick yellow liquid secreted from blade and soaked the ground.

Tommy felt his stomach dropped as he looked up to see the young girl staring down at him unimpressed. He went to reach for the knife but Carmine placed her boot on his hand, hard.

“Gah!”

“See? Now that’s what I was expecting. Too bad you’re not so good with knives. I guess you figured you didn’t have to be when it had Deathstalker venom in it huh? Now... let’s talk.”

Carmine rubbed her foot into the ground, causing Tommy to grit his teeth in pain.

“Stop!” He pleaded. “You’ll break it!”

“It won’t break if you talk fast enough. Tell me what I want to hear. A month ago you weren’t in charge. A tubby guy was and he always kept crates of his equipment in a warehouse outside of town. Then someone apparently shows up to have a meeting, tubby is enraged and kicks them out. Now he’s dead and you’re in charge, moving all of his stuff after you had a meeting. Are you getting the picture I’m painting?”

Tommy’s face goes pale. He starts struggling harder to free himself but it’s not working. Carmine can see the man start to sweat as if he got caught in the rain.

“Now I know what you’re thinking, if you tell me who obviously threatened you to move the crates, then they’ll kill you. But that’s the thing about the future Tommy...”

Carmine lifts her foot and swings it right into his face. She watches Tommy hold is face in pain before rolling him over and putting her knee on his back. Carmine grabs the knife and spooks him by stabbing it beside his face.

“It happens later. Focus on the present. Focus on what I could do to you right now and how to prevent that. Then you can think about your future.” Carmine said, not an ounce of playfulness in her voice.

“I....I....w-well I-”

“Before you try lying to me, I know how Deathstalker venom works. Only the babies are venomous and those are extremely hard to find here. Admittedly I don’t know you well but I know your men. They don’t have the patience or brains to find any here, because there aren’t many. So you either got the venom for this knife by being very diligent, going to a different continent, or someone got you the critters.”

Carmine leaned in close, barely away from his ear. “Or should I say made you some, instead of gathering them? Tommy, where is Cinder Fall?”

Tommy felt like he could vomit at any second. He couldn’t let intel leak. He sold his soul to a witch and now he has to live with it. “I....I can’t say.” He whispered, his lip trembling.

“I see. The fear is too much for you. Should’ve chose a different line of work. Maybe you’ll change your tune if you learn to fear me more?” Carmine grabbed the knife. “This won’t kill you but I doubt it’ll feel good either.”

Carmine lifted the knife and held is hand in place. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. She tried asking nicely. “Sorry....”

“CARMINE!” A loud voice echoed through the alleyways and made the people in it freeze. Tommy tilted his head up and got goosebumps. On the roof was a person everyone knew and criminals wish to avoid. Ruby Rose, he hadn’t seen her in person before. The woman’s cloak covered the area as she jumped down gracefully.

With no noise, her heels hit the ground and stood before the pinned man. Her piercing silver eyes borrowed into him and her long hair blew out of her face by the alley draft. Tommy’s back freed of Carmine’s knee and the young girl raised him to his feet. While Ruby’s expression was calm and oddly inviting, Carmine still looked at the man annoyed. Time was valuable and he was wasting hers. He might’ve escaped the knife but now he was stuck between two women that could all but erase him.

“Y...You’re Ruby Ro-”

“I had this under control by the way.” Carmine cut him off. “Don’t see why you intervened.

“You had him terrified and about to wet his pants. That’s a bit much don’t you think?” Ruby put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “No need to be so intense.”

Carmine mimicked her mother’s gesture. “And we care about the state of people like him why? Lackeys and gang bangers with too much ego have no right to be coddled when they’re rotting the city away from the underbelly. People like that might as well disappear.”

“Carmine that’s not how....” Ruby let out a long sigh and looked at Tommy. He was clearly trying his best to remain calm. “Sorry about her. You know teenagers, always intense in one way or another.” She let out an embarrassed chuckle.

Tommy flinched again when suddenly a burst of red petals spun around him. Next thing he knew, handcuffs were on him and his back was against the fence he tried to climb earlier. The pair of red and silver eyes stared him down from just out of the shadows. Yet he could still see Ruby’s more positive demeanor.

“I’m going to jail?” He groaned.

Ruby stepped towards him. “Depends, Tommy.” She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “The thing is if you go to jail and I bring you in, Cinder will no doubt send someone to try and kill you. Truthfully, it’s not a bad outcome, for me. I’ll just attack your killer and get more info out of them then you most likely.”

“But...you’d stop them before they kill me, right?”

Ruby shrugged, “I can only go so fast. Who knows what could happen, Tommy. Can you take that chance, knowing you will be at the mercy of circumstances around you for gods know how long?”

“N...no” Tommy gulped.

“I mean I could let you run away right now like nothing happened, but any more meetings with Cinder would be absolute hell on your nerves because there’s no way you can keep this from her. What’s worse, you could fuck up and give us information accidentally overtime and then she’d really be mad because we’ll keep an eye on you as long as you’re doing things we don’t like; an unwilling pawn for both sides until someone knocks you off the board. How does that sound to you?” Ruby’s grip got a little tighter.

“Pr...Pretty bad-

“PRETTY BAD!?” Ruby shouted. “Tommy, you will not come out of this well. You’ll probably be dead within the month if I let you leave right now. So my question is what are you gonna do to save your own skin? Because I know what I would ask for in your situation.”

“What’s that?” He asked, almost desperate for his freedom

“I would spill my guts out to the hero because they would at least try to keep you safe if you behaved. Tell me what you know and I will personally take somewhere where you’ll have a fresh start with a new name, a new life that isn’t Illegal. You’ll still sleep with one eye open just to watch your own back but you also know there’s someone who is actively stopping the person who’d want you dead in the first place. Get off the chessboard Tommy. It sucks to be an expendable pawn.”

Tommy could feel her hand trembling. Was she...nervous? No, she was sympathetic. The way Ruby looked at him wasn’t to scare him. She was stating facts and didn’t want him being another statistic. This was the huntress everyone talked about. The one that gives lifelines and creates new endings where they shouldn’t be possible. The was Ruby Rose, the storyteller.

xxxx

Ruby holds up an envelope to the light before facing Carmine, the sound of waves rocking a boat behind them with Tommy in it. Ruby was a woman of her word. She’d take him somewhere safe.

“Here” she held out the envelop for Carmine. “Take it home, no need for me to lug it across the sea.” She waited for Carmine to say something, anything. The girl only nodded and took the thin piece of paper.

Carmine started to walk off but heard Ruby take a step towards her before stopping. She looked back to see her mother frowning, an expression they were both sharing. Ruby looked at her daughter with her emotions clear as day. It was weird to be eye level with her. Without heels, Ruby would be looking up. Carmine had gotten so big the last few years. It was hard not see her as still little.

“I...I know we don’t agree on certain things, and I also know you feel like I helicopter over you. I don’t do it because I don’t trust you or anything like that. Fact of the matter is...I’m your mother. If I can find a way to solve a problem without you doing something drastic, even if you’re willing to do it, then I’m gonna step in. Just because you’re willing to make the tough calls, doesn’t mean I won’t try to keep them away from you. They weigh people down and I don’t want that for you. You’re my daughter, I love you...”

Ruby always hated their fights. It’s why they don’t do missions together. No matter how strong Carmine is, she’ll always be Jaune and Ruby’s little girl. Truthfully, she didn’t hate it at all. Carmine hated arguing too, if not more.

“I get it mom, I do. Perhaps...I was a tad hasty tonight. Thanks for...showing up.” Carmine scratched her head in embarrassment. Since when did talking to her own mom get so rough. “I love you too.” There, she said it.

Ruby gave her daughter a gentle smile and opened her arms, hoping for a hug. She knew she might be getting a bit too mushy right now but unexpectedly, Carmine walked over and embraced it without question. Ruby wasn’t about to complain. Any affection was welcomed at all times when it came from Carmine. Ruby finally let her go and got one more look at her daughter. Time sure does fly.

“My beautiful girl. I saw the trash lid truck by the way, that was pretty badass.”

Carmine playfully rolled her eyes and opened the evelope. Ruby watched the girl read over the paper several times before handing it back. “Got it.”

Ruby’s eyebrows perked up in surprise. A shocked smile came soon after. “You’re-”

“Of course.” Carmine cut her off. She put her hands together and made a glowing red rose form between them. She placed the thing right behind her mother’s ear and smiled. “See you at home?”

“Yeah, I should be back before morning.”

“Good, I’ll have breakfast waiting for you then.” Ruby watch her daughter start to walk off before Carmine slowly blew away into red and yellowish rose petals.

“My oh my, that daughter of mine.” Ruby chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

xxxx

“Done.” Carmine said, rewriting the information down as she layed on the couch. On top of her was her adorable baby brother, fast asleep like he should be. She reached for a candle that lit the room and blew it out. All in all, not a bad night in the slightest. One step closer to their goal. One step closer to the end.

Part 4

Wanna start Rosebud < Part one is a click away.

#rwby #jaune arc #the void #rwby lancaster #ruby rose #carmine arc rose #rwby whiteknight #rwby knightshade #rwby au #rwby dragonslayer #rwby rosebud

62 notes · View notes

bunnyramen · 4 years

Text

It started with Hagakure, the first somewhat bravely approaching Kirishima and giving him a pair of her hero gloves to wear for whatever reason.

“Wow, thanks Hagakure! I can use these for when i have to work with Hatsume!” He put them on and wiggles his fingers around in them, turning his hand over to gaze at them.

“It’s no problem, Kirishima!” Hagakure blushed a bit, not thinking her plan would work.

The reason she gave him those because she wanted to see him in her hero merch. She had recently gotten a bunch a pairs back since there were always left overs from random cons and such.

It wasn’t odd to see a couple of classmates carrying large boxes back into their room, most likely full of their own merch.

She was surprised she was the first to do it, Kirishima would be the perfect person to showcase that she was the next top hero.

Or at least top 5.

“Well, see you later!” She walked away quickly, Kirishima looking a bit confused cause he figured they would talk a bit more but shrugged it off.

“Bye!” Kirishima waved with the gloves still on, Hagakure barely catching it when she looked back, a grin gracing her invisible face.

——

“Excuse me, Kirishima?” Ochako tapped the taller on the shoulder as they were in the lunch line.

“Hey Ochako! Didn’t see you there! What’s up?” He smiled, his dimples taking over his cheeks that made her heart scream a bit.

“I got some hero merch in the mail and decided to give you these earrings since I know you’re adding to your collection.” Kirishima scooted up in line to make sure he didn’t hold up the long line, Ochako scooting up behind him.

She reached into her jacket pocket and produced a pair of medium sized golden hoops. There were little charms that represented the 8 planets that clacked when you shook them.

Kirishima gasped, “These are so boss!! Thanks so much, ‘chako!” He slipped the first pair earrings that were in his ear off and put in the new ones, absolutely beaming with delight.

“Plus they glow in the dark!”

Kirishima scooted up causing Ochako to scoot up again, then captured her in a hug. Her arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed tight, unexpectedly taking in the scent of cherries and fresh grass.

“These are like the best earrings I have by far!” He smiled again, tilting his head from side to side, making the charms click against each other.

Ochako blinked a few times before putting on a bright smile of her own, the prospect of her merch earrings being the best made her feel warmness in her heart.

——

“Happy great friends day!” Kaminari produced a present suddenly, startling Kirishima who was playing his Ds.

Kirishima has been in the common room on the couch, others were either sitting at the table or on the floor.

“There’s a great friends day?” Kirishima paused his game and sat up on the couch, putting it down on a cushion and turning towards Kaminari.

“Of course it’s not a day that I made up!” He plopped the wrapped gift in Kirishima’s lap, thankful that it was soft.

“I wish I would’ve known! If we’re exchanging gifts, I’d have gotten you one, too.” Kirishima started tearing the packaging and putting the pieces on the cushion to pick up later.

“That’s alright, dude. You don’t need to get me a thing!” Kaminari watched intently as the boy and unfolded the sweatshirt, the clothing being covered in lightning bolts and his hero name in cursive neon yellow letters across the front.

“This is so gnarly! I’m touched!” He hugged the sweater close to his chest, making Kaminari blush.

“Ah, it was nothing really! You just seem to prefer hoodies to shirts anyways.” Kaminari really wanted to be cocky but he couldn’t help but to be humble to Kirishima.

The redhead started to put it over his head but when it came to pulling it down over his stomach, it only got half way down.

“How is it too small? Cant you fit a medium?” Kaminari seemed confused, he could’ve sworn that this was his size.

“No but it’s fine! ‘Sides crop top sweaters are in according to Aoyama’s blog.” Kirishima sucked his arms back into the hoodie and also through the arms of his shirt.

It took a bit of time but after a minute, Kirishima pulled off his shirt, showing off a midsection marked with abs, scars, and plenty of stretch marks.

Kaminari almost covered his eyes but didn’t since he would miss the sight in front of him.

“Well, I’m gonna go to my room and draw or something, thank you for the gift!” Kirishima said a bit hurried as he made his way to the elevator.

“Denks..” Jirou called his attention, said boy turning towards the purple headed girl sitting at the community table with a raised eyebrow.

“That was probably one of the smartest things you’ve ever done..” Jirou mumbled as she clinked the ends of her headphone jacks together, her face red as a ripe strawberry.

Kaminari smiled cockily, “Yeah, I know.” With the amount of shirts Kirishima wore on a daily basis, that hoodie was going to be on display for a good, long while.

——-

“Shit!” Kirishima has his mask in his hands, though it was split in two now.

“What happened, dude?” Kaminari asked as he slipped on one of his boots and laced it up.

“My mask broke in half.” He tossed the two pieces in the trash and started taking off his shirt.

“You dont have a replacement, Kirishima-kun?” Iida slipped on his shin guards and turned towards Kirishima, a calculating arch in his arrowhead brow.

“I don’t! I should probably build new one, Iida-Senpai.” Kirishima pulled out a piece of paper, showing him the blue prints for a new design for a mask on it.

Iida flushed a bit, which was very uncharacteristic for the normally in control president.

(Momo made a joke that it was respectful to call your class reps senpai since they were technically the upperclassmen of the class. Kirishima, not wanting to be impolite, took it seriously)

“This is such a carefully calculated design, I’m extremely impressed.” Iida looked it over and handed it back to the redhead, a rare smile on his face as he pushed up his glasses.

“Thanks! I was thinking about adding goggles to it since I have nothing protecting my eye.” Kirishima took of his pants and slipped on his hero pants and his new metal belt.

“Well, I suppose since you don’t have your mask, you can use these for the time being.” Iida fished a visor-like pair of glasses from his locker, handing them to Kirishima who had finished buckling his shoes.

“Seriously? Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to break them-“

“I assure you Kirishima-kun, it’s quite alright. There an old prototype for my hero costume that didn’t quite fit with the design of my suit. You may keep them.” He handed them to Kirishima as he put both his palms out to take it.

“Thanks so much, Iida-senpai! I really appreciate this!” Kirishima put them on and made a small marveled sound.

“You’re very welcome. Now I must finish getting ready for hero training, I’ll see you out there.” Iida bowed a bit, as did Kirishima with a big smile on his face.

“I’ll see you out there, class rep!” He waved happily as the heavy footfalls of his boots got quieter as he left.

As soon as the boy was gone, Iida had a light smile, almost a smirk on his face.

He normally wasn’t competitive but in this case, he had this one in the bag.

——

Bonus:

“Woah, where’d you get those?” Kaminari pointed at his glasses.

“Iida! He let me have them since I need eye protection!”

“If I would’ve known that, I would’ve given you my old spare!” Kaminari harrumphed.

——-

“Kirishima?” Midoriya knocked politely on the redhead’s door, keeping the item he was holding flush to his side.

I’m no time, Kirishima’s door opened revealing the taller boy, his hair up in a ponytail that swished when he moved his head.

In the front of his hair was a couple dark shadow shaped clips and the boy seems to be wearing a dark cloak.

“Yo Midoriya! What’s up?” He smiled wide, his dimples on display.

“Oh, I heard-uhm that you needed something cool to wear to the sleep over tonight and brought you this.” He grabbed the item from

his hip and unfolded it to show Kirishima.

It was a onesie version of Midoriya’s hero outfit and had a pair of long green ears on the hood.

Kirishima only stared at it, making Midoriya a bit nervous that maybe it wasn’t cool or manly in this case.

“I know I may not be the coolest looking hero..” Midoriya started, looking down a bit in embarrassment.

“Well that’s bullshit!” Kirishima cursed, Midoriya looks back up to see a determined look to his face, eyes shining like rubies with emotion.

“I would be honored to wear this cool ass onesie!” Kirishima put up a finger to signal he needed a moment and closed the door.

In no time, he popped back up in the door way, looking way too adorable in the Deku sleepwear.

It was a bit tight looking but it was never in Deku’s DNA to complain about trivial things.

“What do you think? Am I not the coolest number one hero around?” He put the hood up , displaying the large ears that stood straight up on his head.

“Number one?” Midoriya’s face turned a light pink at implication

“Fuck yeah, dude! And when you’re on that podium and people are cheering you on like-“ He put his hands up to his mouth and cheered quietly “oh my god, we love you so much Deku! You’re so awesome and smart!” He put a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, “Just know I’ll be in that crowd, and I’ll drag Bakugou’s ass in that crowd too. Ok?” His bright, toothy smile made Midoriya’s heart beat just a little too fast to be normal.

“Ok.” Midoriya smiled back, braces and all.

——-

“Hey Kirishima! You want some of my merch-“ Mineta asked but was cut off when Kirishima suddenly turned around.

“Ew, Fuck No.” Kirishima said as he walked towards his friend group and away from the short grape.

Mina cackled her ass off as Bakugou nodded in approval.

——-

Aoyama gives Kirishima pair of sunglasses designed to look like their hero one because they wouldn’t want Kirishima to be blinded by their sparkle.

Kirishima smiles brightly and Aoyama takes the sunglasses back and puts them on themself, saying that they need it more than he does.

—

Bakugou throws a shirt that looks like a skull shirt but it’s made from the word fuck you, Kirishima wears it proudly.

In reality, it’s his own shirt that he wanted Kirishima to have without the redhead getting suspicious.

—-

Jirou gives him a Deep Dope brand speaker and they end up dancing around crazily to some music playing from his phone.

—-

Todoroki got him a simple half red and half white heeadband, something that Kirishima wears constantly.

——

Sero gave him a charm bracelet with a tape dispenser on it that Kirishima also never takes off.

——-

Someone asks what Kirishima does with all the merch the class keeps giving him.

He has special cork board on his wall and a special box for it all.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

@deepseawave this is a small story dedicated to you! I hope you like it!!

216 notes · View notes