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reidjumpers · 3 years

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Here Comes the Sun: Dumplings

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: mentions of food, some curse words, domestic bliss, Spencer being a little anxious

Series Summary: a journey of going through parenthood with Spencer Reid

Chapter Summary: When Spencer woke up to you making dumplings in the dining table, he knew he was in trouble.

Note: welcome to the first chapter of dad!Spencer series! For those who have faint heart, fear not, because I am not mean and I write this so we can all have serotonin boost together. Enjoy!

prologue, next chapter, series masterlist.

Nobody in their right mind would ever call Spencer Reid a fool. He might have encountered people that underestimate him or didn’t think he was as smart, yes, but no one would ever call him a fool. Not even when Emily joked about his IQ getting slashed into 60 in the presence of a beautiful woman. He had to silently agree with that statement. How could he not? In front of him was a very beautiful woman that he had the luxury to call her his wife. His beautiful, gorgeous, very understanding, intelligent wife.

But right now he definitely felt like a goddamn fool.

When Spencer woke up to an empty bed and the apartment smelled distinctively sweet like the bakery, he thought he was waking up on a really good day. But when he walked out the bedroom and spotted you sitting at the dining table calmly, a hum of songs from the speaker played in the background, and a stack of dumpling skin placed on the table, he knew he was in the doghouse.

It was common knowledge that whenever you’re stressed or upset upon something or someone, when life seemingly wants to fucks you over and over, you’d channel it through baked sweets or as strange as it sounds, dumplings. He never knew witnessing you silently make dumplings on the dining table with freshly baked cookies on the counter would be such a terrifying and worrisome sight to see.

Spencer stood silently in the doorway, rocking on his heels forward and backwards. He was quiet and careful not to burst the bubble of your own world. His mind started to run a few scenarios inside his head over and over, trying to walk through every minute by minute of every event in his life that had led him into today.

“Hey,” he greeted you after two solid minutes of thinking and couldn’t come up with any answer. His voice was gentle to not startle you as he pulled a chair across yours.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you teased. It was 11:15 AM, you were most definitely saying that just to tease him.

Spencer rolled his eyes at your jab, silently reached for the dumpling skin in front of him and started to fill it with the filling. He had done this thousands of times over to know the right way to make dumplings. Your first few dates with him consisted of homemade dumplings and sipping wine. He was honored when you showed him how to make dumplings the way your grandmother did it, grinning as you said it’s a family secret and he promised to keep it as one.

“Are we having a guest?” Spencer asked as he put his own dumpling carefully into the designated plate. His dumpling would never be as good as yours no matter how much he tried, but he was proud that it was passable enough to your standard.

“No?” you furrowed your eyebrows, glancing up from your own dumpling. “Why?”

“You make more dumplings than usual,” he pointed out.

“Oh,” your voice was soft, barely audible, and he nearly missed it. “Didn’t realize that.”

Spencer nodded, reaching for another dumpling skin to soothe his worry away. Study has shown that repetitive action proven to soothe anxiety and increase focus. He could recite the study in his sleep, forward and backwards without stuttering. But the damned repetitive action of making dumplings didn’t work for him right now.

He cleared his throat. It is now and never. He would have to kiss his husband of the year trophy goodbye if he couldn’t figure out for his life what makes his wife this upset. “Hon?” he called for your attention.

You let out a hum of acknowledgement, eyes didn’t leave your dumpling for a second. It made the corner of his lips twisted downwards.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked gently, mindful not pressing you into telling him things. He knew you would never keep things away from him. You would tell him eventually, but he needed to hear it.

You, however, just scrunched your nose adorably in confusion. “Talk about what?”

“You bake cookies and make dumplings, and it’s just…” he craned his neck to take a glance towards the hanging clock above the cabinet. “It’s not even twelve yet.”

You blinked at his statement. “I’m hungry.”

“You do stress bake,” he patiently pointed out. Placing his yet another passable looking dumpling into the designated plate, he let out a sigh. “You also make dumplings when you’re stressed or upset. And now you do both first thing in the morning.”

“You know me so well, huh? You should marry me if you know me so well.”

“Already did, nine months ago,” Spencer rolled his eyes at your humor, but a smile graced his lips. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

You blinked at him again, nose scrunched up in confusion at his question. Spencer could feel silence slowly settling in, filling the gaps between you and him. His mind started to make a list of things that you like, making mental notes to make a short trip to a grocery store to pick up your favorite ice cream and take a reroute towards the flower shop he saw a week ago and picked up a bouquet of roses.

He was in the middle of mentally reciting his apology for fucking up when he heard you burst into a laughter. It took him a moment to register that the sound of you cackling so hard was not a mere figment of his imagination. He saw you laughing so hard, head thrown backwards overwhelming the small dining room.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccupped, wiping away tears from your eyes with your sleeve. Spencer would’ve smiled at the sight if he weren’t so puzzled. “Babe, are you really thinking I’m mad at you because I bake cookies and make dumplings?”

Spencer sputtered, “How could I not!” he huffed, throwing his hands into the air dramatically as you laugh upon his misery. “I was so worried! You always either bake or make dumplings when you’re upset, but never both! And now you do both and you keep dodging my question.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you said defensively between your laughter. You cleared your throat, not wanting to make the pout on Spencer’s lips even more prominent. “I guess my brain really associated cookies and dumplings as something comforting. I crave for some comfort food, and my brain just screams, ‘cookies and dumplings!’ I didn’t mean to make you worried, I’m sorry.”

“This much? You’re really hungry, huh?”

“Pretty hungry since I’m eating for two now.”

Spencer froze on his spot, his hand stopped midair before he was able to reach for another dumpling skin. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. “W-what?”

You just smiled cheekily at him. You got up from your seat and walked towards the kitchen, leaving him alone flabbergasted at your statement. You came back a minute later, a wide smile at your face and your hand tucked behind your back.

“Ta-da!” you cheerfully said, placing baby shoes on the table in front of him. Spencer let out a soft gasp, cooed at the sight of how tiny the shoes are.

“Are you…? Are we…?”

“Pregnant,” you finished his sentence for him with a wide grin. “I found out during our case in LA and I was meaning to tell you earlier, I swear! But the case got a little crazy and we’re whisked away into doing a lot of things at once.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, staring into the baby shoes with eyes full of awe. The news still felt unreal for him, artificial, but the warmth blooming on his chest that slowly spreading through his system left him fuzzy. A small reminder that it was as real as he wanted to be.

You probably have mistaken his silence for something else as you shifted your weight from one foot to another. You started to fidget with the hem of your shirt, eyes not meeting his. “I know we agree to wait for a year, but–”

Spencer practically leaped from his seat and scooped you into his arms. His smile was so wide that his cheeks started to hurt. You let out a small yelp as he spun you around before he placed a tender kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said between your kisses, grinning as he stole a few more small kisses.

You giggled between his kisses, your hand flew into his face and patted his cheeks as he assaulted your face with his lips. “I love you too, you big goof.”

“A baby, huh?” Spencer let out a happy sigh after he spared your life from his kisses. His hand nestled on your waist, gently swaying you in his arms. “We’ve got to start baby proofing the whole place, make sure there are no sharp edges,” he rambled.

“Spencer–”

“I’ll go to the bookstore and pick up some book about baby names! Do you think Jason is a good name?”

“I think–”

“Oh, we should start shopping for some clothes and socks too. Make sure they’re warm–”

“Spencer!” you interrupted his rambling with your hands squishing his face. You smiled at him as he blinked his eyes towards you slowly, a little fazed that you broke his train of thought. “I love all the planning ideas, but right now let’s just focus on making dumplings and feed three of us, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed out, slowly collapsing into his seat again. “Okay. Dumplings…” he muttered to himself, grabbing the dumpling skin in front of him. “But seriously, what do you think about the name Jason?”

“It’s a lovely name.”

“Oh, common ground. I like that.”

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Series tag list:

@measure-in-pain @wooya1224 @reidemandweep @manuosorioh

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lettrespromises · 3 years

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#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

──➤ Roronoa Zoro sent you a love letter to celebrate +400 followers, would you like to read it?

@newfriendjen sent a letter : ❝Hi Friend! Congrats again on your 400!! You definitely deserve many more! If you still have a spot open for you event (ignore if you filled them!), can I request: Smut Prompt #15 with Zoro 😏 please and thank you so much!❞ the author sent a letter : ❝dear jen, to say i got a bit carried while writing this is a bit of an understatement! but i hope you’ll like it as much as i liked writing it, all while cackling like a villain as i was writing this. thank you tons for the sweet words, you are such a sweetheart and i’m so lucky to know you! sending you lots of love! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞

──➤ Prompt used : #15 “Look at what you’re doing to me.” ─➤ Genre : Smut. ➤ Warnings : MINORS DO NOT READ THIS, 18+ ONLY. Sexual intercourse, jealous sex, mild degradation, choking, biting, cunninlingus, penetration, spanking (once), sir kink.

The weather of the New World was often unforgiving, unpredictable, and at times, untamable. Sometimes, Mother Nature showed she was capable of crossing the limit of Nami’s extended knowledge regarding climate (and God knows her brain was severely infused with every secrets regarding the different kinds of weather, rendering her as a living, walking encyclopedia.) But alas, sometimes the rage of Mother Nature would be thrown upon any poor ship unready to face her wrath in the forms of undying tornados and waves that could reach the sky.

Hence why, every morning, Nami’s prediction on today’s weather was awaited by all, very much like a prophecy which was often set to come true— and if said prophecy announced any kind of weather gravitating around the lexical field of a natural catastrophe, one wouldn’t be surprised to perceive Usopp down on his knees in a praying position, diverse and unintelligible wishes to survive Mother Nature’s anger.

Much to the crew’s collective joy, the navigator had announced the most ideal weather— sunshine, a slight breeze and no cloud in sight, what appeared to be a regular weather in heaven. And, why of course, such a hot weather meant that both Nami and the local archeologist, Nico Robin, would bathe under the sun and relieve any kind of tension which had settled in after several fights (or just the exhaustion of having to deal with Luffy on a daily basis.)

And there you were, standing like a mannequin in the girls’ room in company of Nami and Robin, the latter throwing you an amused look at the way Nami was comparing which bikini would look better on you— the red one, an appeal for passion, or the black one, a statement of boldness? Her brows furrowed in unison at her poor attempt to make a decision, comparing how the colors married the shade of your skin.

« Robin, how are we feeling about the red bikini? It’s so cute, but I have a feeling something is missing… » The navigator wondered, her gaze falling on the taller woman next to her.

Robin couldn’t refrain from allowing a giggle from leaving her lips, surely it meant that she had her idea, an ill-intentioned one, that is. And, oh well, to say she had just a mere idea was an understatement : as she remained still, Robin summoned a couple of limbs to look for a green-colored bikini hidden in the drawers only to bring it to Nami’s attention. The two women shared a teasing glance, as if they communicated intentions filled with mischief through their eyes alone.

« I do believe something was missing, too. » Robin trailed off, bringing an index under her chin. « Something that might appeal to a certain swordsman. »

The evil cackle falling from Nami’s lips announced nothing good, and the sweet tone of her voice only deepened that sentiment. « You know how the saying goes : great minds think alike. »

« Hold on, what are you—… » You began, only to be cut off by the navigator, « Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to say, Y/N. We’re not fools, you know? You’re going to look like a real stunner with this bikini on, and I know that a certain someone won’t be able to resist. » She concluded her sentence with a wink sent your way, boy, sometimes you did understand why Zoro called her a witch at times.

« Join us when you’re ready, Y/N. I’m intrigued to see how this will go. » Concluded Robin, accompanying Nami towards the door to let you some privacy so you could change into the bikini, not that you have never changed in front of them and vice versa, but oh well.

You were now all alone, still haven’t moved an inch. Your thumb was brushing against the green fabric of the bikini over and over again until it had become some kind of obsession. But the more the motions continued, the more you realized that perhaps there was no other way to get out of this trap glamorously set by Robin and Nami. A sigh of despair left your lips, swearing to yourself that you’d have your payback sooner than later.

The door of the girls’ bedrooms slammed open, allowing your figure sculpted by the finest hands of the muses of beauty to be exposed to the kisses of the sun. The first sound to rip apart your thoughts was a squeal which left Nami’s mouth, the latter shaking Robin’s forearm with urgency to bring her attention onto you. « Robin, Robin! Look at her, isn’t she to die for? I’d bet all my money that Zoro is going to throw himself on her. I mean, just look at her! »

The same amused smile graced Robin’s facial traits, lowering her shades just a bit to have a good glance at how the oh so awaited green bikini embraced your body. « I must confess that it’s impossible to resist her. »

The words leaving her lips became clearer and clearer the more you approached them, a palette of rosy tones sitting proudly on top of your cheekbones at their compliments. « We saved you a seat, Miss I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good. Come with us! » Nami said, patting the empty spot next to her to which you wordlessly replied with a nod, sitting between her and Robin.

« You’re so evil, I kinda hate you for it. » A smile plastered upon your lips as the words died on your tongue.

« You love us and you know it. » Nami replied, letting her hand lingering on your forearm. « Ooh, would you look at that, Robin? The show is about to begin. » She concluded, taking a sip out of her cocktail with a gleam of mischief shining in her eyes.

And by show, the navigator undoubtedly meant the sudden appearance of the Sunny’s resident lover who had stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of different kinds of treats and cocktails for his ladies, spoiling them rotten on sunny days if it meant he could allow his eyes to linger a bit on your bodies in bikinis.

The first act of the show had begun in a flashy manner, as soon as Sanji closed the door leading to the kitchen behind him, the plate he was holding had fell onto the floor, a loud echo reasoning into the swordsman’s ears who was stuck in a deep state of slumber… Until now.

« I must have saved a country in my previous life to be worthy of such a privilege. » Sanji sobbed, falling onto his knees, « Y/N, you’re a goddess amongst us, we’re not worthy, I’m not worthy of your beauty. I will worship you everyday, I will cover you in love until my very last breath! » The cook continued, more and more praises falling from his lips in a continuous cascade as your cheeks were getting more and more red by the second. Alas, the more the blonde sang your praises, the more the swordsman was stirring awake— and if there was one thing Zoro hated with passion besides Sanji, it was waking up to loud noises.

Sanji had approached you, on one knee, the back of your hand pressed against his lips as the tears falling from his lips mixed with the blood leaking from his nose. « Thank you, my goddess, thank you for blessing my sore eyes. Words can’t describe how—… » And he went on and on again, his lips still traveling from the back of your hand to your forearm under Nami’s disgusted stare who yanked you away from him.

« My goddess—… »

« Oi! Do you ever shut up, stupid cook? » And despite the numerous occasions on which Zoro and Sanji have fought, Zoro’s words seemed intensely more acerbic, as sharp as the swords laying to his side, which even surprised Sanji.

« Were you talking to me, mosshead? » Sanji taunted.

« I don’t see anyone else here acting like a damn fool. » Zoro began, his sole eye conveying so much anger you could feel it. « Know your place. »

Nami elbowed Robin once more, the latter having long forgotten about the book sitting on her lap at this point. Sanji stepped towards the swordsman, dangerously reducing the space between the both of them until their foreheads were touching. There was no frown noticeable on Zoro’s face, but a blank expression which let through a pure anger. « She belongs to me, hands off what’s mine. » The swordsman spat, his shoulder hitting Sanji’s as he walked past him, leaving the cook in a stupor.

« Oi! You. » He said, pointing at your frame with his index. « Follow me. You and I are gonna’ have a word. »

He cursed himself for allowing his gaze to fall on your form, knowing damn well that with each second he spent looking at you in this green bikini (this damn color, he thought), the more he was falling under the spells casted by the muses of lust.

« Go get some! » Nami whispered, her tongue gracing her bottom lip.

« We expect all the details afterwards, my dear Y/N. » Robin giggled.

You had barely enough time to form any kind of response that you felt the foreign presence of Zoro’s digits snaking around your wrists and yanking you towards him. « Hey, I’m sure we can talk about this calmly, right? We can chat about it over a drink, I’ll ask Sanji to—… » Alas, your sentence never found its end, your mind going numb at the death glare Zoro sent your way as you mentioned Sanji’s name. But, paradoxically enough, it only fueled your arousal even more.

Zoro led you to the crow’s nest, trapping you and him both inside the same room. And as the silence grew heavier and heavier, until becoming asphyxiating, Zoro’s snicker broke the silence in the most mischievous way. A look of confusion was painted on your face, and you were quick to point at it. « W-What are you laughing at? »

« Do you think I’m fucking stupid? » Zoro half-asked.

You tilted your head to the side, slowly backing away until your back met the unforgiving surface of the wooden wall. « Answer me. » He demanded, one of his hand grabbing both of your wrists in one hold pinned above your head whilst his other hand cradled your jaw so you had no choice but devote your attention onto him.

« I don’t know what you’re talking about. » You pleaded, cheeks burning under the rosy tone as you felt his uneven breaths crashing against the column of your neck.

Wrong answer, Zoro shoved his knee between your already trembling legs. « You like the attention, hah? You love it when that pervert of a cook was throwing himself on you, is that it? Tch. » He was feeding his lust off of the scared expression on your face, blood rushing in the tightest space possible by the second.

« No answer, huh? ‘Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, because it looks like you forgot who you belong to. » And with that, he dug his teeth into the skin of your neck, alternating between biting and sucking motions to form the most ravishing love bite— a symbol of belonging if you will. You squealed at the sudden sensation of his pearly whites inking his name into your skin, giving him exactly the reaction he was anticipating.

You rocked your hips against the thigh settled between your legs, a desperate attempt at getting some friction for your poor and aching core in need for attention. Zoro clicked his tongue once more at your antics, choosing to hush you by continuing the trail of hickeys adorning your martyr of a neck. « Care to explain what you’re doing? Throwing yourself on my thigh because you couldn’t get the shit cook, hah? You’re so fucking desperate, it makes me want to leave you there all alone. »

« Zoro! Please don’t, don’t leave me! I just need you, I don’t need anyone else but you! I promise I’ll be good but please, please, don’t leave me. » You pleaded, a clear veil of despair covering your eyes under his impassible expression.

The façade worn off soon, letting a smirk throne amongst his facial features instead. « Who do you belong to? » Zoro demanded, gliding the hand that was under your chin to your throat and applied just enough pressure to make sure to earn absolute submissiveness out of you.

« Y-You… » You choked out, the lack of oxygen marrying so well with your growing arousal.

His smirk only grew wider, a real testimony of the sick thoughts implanted in his brain that would make a demon blush. Both of his hand retreated to his side, gaze falling on the unmissable erection showing through his dark pants. His eyes alternated between you and the bulge in his pants, your mouth going dry at the wordless order. « If you want to be a whore, then be a good whore and suck me off, yeah? Don’t give me those eyes, you want it. »

You sunk to your knees, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation for what was bound to come. And whilst your eyes were stuck on his form, your fingers were busy tugging down at his pants to reveal his grey underwear stained with pre-cum. The sight of this alone was enough to send yet another wave of arousal down to your core. And as his cock sprung free from the constriction of his boxers, his girth slapping against his exposed abdomen and the tip rouge from anticipation, you were convinced you could’ve come undone from the sight of this alone.

« Suck. » He ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your towards his aching cock and the veil of pre-cum coating the tip.

And thus it began. You flattened your tongue, drawing a large lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip where you finished with a few kitten licks, knowing damn well the head was where all the nerves devoted to pleasure were hidden. « Don’t tease and put your mouth to good use, whore. » Zoro said, almost betrayed by the groan threatening to be released.

Following the rules of performative language, you began to rock your head back and forth around his cock, making sure that your tongue was coating in a lustful love each inch of his girth whilst hums of pleasure were leaving your lips as you went. The hold of your hair in Zoro’s fist grew tighter and so did the metaphorical knots in his stomach as you went along, until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat— such enticing sensation earned a growl out of him. Fuck.

« F-Fuck. Look at what you’re doing to me… Ah! Shit. Enough! » He ordered, yanking your head away from his cock, and the sight of the corners of your mouth dripping with the sweet marriage of his pre-cum and your drool could have provoked an orgasm out of him at this very moment.

« It’s too soon, and it’d be giving you what you want, huh? Too fucking bad, I’m going to cum in that sweet pussy of yours and you’re gonna love it. Ya’ hear me? » He asked without really asking, and taken by a rush of lust, you could only nod in return. « Y-Yes. » You stuttered. « You’re missing something. » Zoro added. You swallowed thickly before adding « Yes, yes, sir. » Your response caused an ill-intentioned snicker to fall from his lips. « That’s right. Now get on your back, and make sure to be as loud as you can, I want everyone on this damn ship to hear how I can make you scream. »

Zoro’s glorious height forced you to lay back until your spine touched the mattress where all the sins would soon break free. The smirk on his face never left, a pure testimony of what all the sinful deeds he was bound to accomplish. You were now trapped between his forearms, hips circled by his knees— bending under his dominance. « Did you wear that for me? » Zoro asked, slapping the string of the bikini top against your skin.

« I d-did, it’s all for you because I’m all yours. » Your response caused a chuckle to break from his lips, sweet words feeding his ego some more. And in a flash, his fingers had ripped said bikini top in half (you made a mental note that you now owed a serious debt to Nami), and there you were, (almost) in all you bare glory. « Fuck, if only you knew the things you do to me. »

Zoro wasted no time and threw all caution out of the window as his mouth latched onto your breasts, the motions of his tongue around your bud causing your spine to pay homage to the moon from how arched it was. His pink muscle flickered around your nipple before he swallowed your breast whole, his drool covering your flesh in a sinful veil. And because he was such a giver for his pretty girl, he gave the same treatment to the other breast whilst gasps left your lips over and over again at the methodical motions of his tongue, your anatomy held no secret for him.

« Are you going shy on me now? Did you forget what I said? » He trailed off, reducing the space between his lips and your ear, « I said I want you to be fucking loud. »

And with that, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before tearing apart (once more) your poor martyr of a bikini bottom under your desperate attempts to keep it intact. Were you challenging him? Oh well… Zoro has always been the type to face any challenge thrown his way. « Zoro—… Sir, please! » You pleaded, not knowing really why.

« You’re such a desperate little thing, huh? » He leaned down to face your core, glistening in its lustful glory for him and him only. Zoro pressed a finger against your folds, dragging it vertically to obtain a finger pad covered in your slicks. « So fucking wet for me already? ‘Bet that shit cook can’t make you as wet as me. » He stated, confidence embedded in his every word. « Only you can make me feel this way, sir. » You replied before he crashed his lips onto yours in an uncharacteristically sweet manner to cut you off. « And why’s that? » The swordsman asked, already knowing the answer. « Because… Because I belong to you. » He pressed yet another kiss against your lips for having given the answer that had been lingering on his mind. « Good girl. »

Your reward came in the form of his tongue brushing your folds, flickering motions against your sensitive bud sending you in overdrive as continuous waves of pleasure washed over you ceaselessly, the knots in your stomach tightening each time his tongue touched you. Two of his digits poked your entrance, teasing you to let your torture last before they penetrated you. The sudden sensation caused you to let out a dragged whimper accompanied by his name coated in a sinful tone. « S-Sir please, please just fuck me— I can’t take the teasing, ahh, fuck, fuck! Please, please! » You begged, eyelids shutting close under the pleasure.

But your pleas fell in deaf ears as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, sucking onto your sensitive bud to build an orgasm within you that he was bound to deny. He knew you were close by the way you were holding his green hair, tugging him ever closer to your core to amplify the inferno burning within you. But alas, to your greatest displeasure, all the motions ceased in one go under the hint of mischief glowing in his eye.

« You’re gonna cum on my terms, and when I say so. Got it? » He seethed, knowing damn well that his own end was going to arrive soon. He gave his girth a few experimental pumps, allowing the pre-cum to cover his length before shoving the entirety of his cock in one go inside you, barely leaving enough time for your cunt to stretch correctly— and saying that a elongated moan left your lips was an euphemism, the sick grin plastered upon his face grew more and more as the sounds of pleasure drowned in his eardrums. « You’re so fucking tight, shit! » He breathed out, « Look at your pretty cunt swallowing me whole. »

The rhythm of his hips followed the scheme of a crescendo, each slam of his hips against your derrière drew a clearer portrait of both Zoro’s end and your own climax. The nature of the rhythm itself indicated that he was chasing after his own end, and with his head thrown back and his irises dilated under the hunger to satiate the raging fires breaking loose in his abdomen by the second. « S-Sir, it feels— Ah! It feels so good! »

The tip of his cock kissed ever so precisely the roof of your cervix where a panel of nerves designed to draw a lustful reaction out of you every time he thrusted into you. Your vision became more and more blurry until a liquid veil covered your eyes as pearls of tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Under the pressure of each of Zoro’s thrusts, your body bent to his will and soon you had no longer control over your legs that used to be around his waist, only to be picked up by the swordsman who threw your legs over his shoulder, thus allowing him to reach a deeper part in you and the cries leaving your lips were just the proof of how good he made you feel.

More and more cries echoed against the wooden walls of the room, your sounds of pleasure marrying the groans falling from his lips in a cascade. « Ah, fuck, fuck! R-Right there, please! Shit…! » You pleaded to fuel him some more. His nails were digging into the luscious flesh of your thighs, drawing rouge crescents in his wake.

« Who do you belong to? » He groaned out, his eye admiring the lustful look on your face.

« Y-You! I belong to you, fuck, you a-and no one else! » You attempted to reply mid-moan.

But as much as Zoro knew your anatomy, you also happened to be an expert of his— and the way he planted his nails into your skin, the raw groans loosing their chains to be set free and the way his thighs were shaking… Everything announced the beginning of his own end.

« Cum with me… Now! » He ordered, letting his hand crash against your buttcheek in the process. And there it was, the marriage of two lovers under the spell of lust. The rhythm of his thrusts reached their apex, all whilst he painted your walls with the white color of passion. His own cum was mixing with your own elixir of pleasure leaking from your throbbing core as your cunt was clenching around his cock in despair. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours were long gone now, the room was solely filled with heavy breaths and his name falling from your lips over and over again like a forbidden prayer.

Although Zoro’s stamina knew no bounds, he felt like the oxygen had been knocked off of his lungs. But perhaps it was the price to pay if it meant he could observe you in all your post-orgasm glory after holding it inside you for so long. God, he was so proud of you, proud of every mark he had left onto your skin, proud of the way your skin gleamed under the sweat, proud of being your lover.

« ’S alright, ’s alright. I’m going to pull out, breathe. » Zoro demanded, the sweet tone reserved for you only finding its way back around his words. His digits snaked around his girth to pull out of you, only to witness the satisfying marriage of your cum and his own. You were so good to him.

And whilst you remained unable to move, Zoro fell to your side, his arms quick to lock you into an embrace as your head rested on his chest, his frenetics heartbeats echoing in your eardrums. You loved the peace of the aftermath of any sexual activity involving Zoro, you loved how peace seemed to bend his facial features in the most enticing way.

He was the first one to break the silence, pressing his lips against your forehead whilst he tugged you impossibly closer to him like a reminder that you were indeed here, and would always be. « So whose plan was this, hah? » He asked, earning a giggle out of you in response. « It was Nami’s, although Robin helped too. She said I would one hundred percent ‘get laid’ if I wore this. » You answered, head tilting towards the poor green bikini torn in pieces.

« That witch can go to hell. » Zoro groaned, but the raw tone of his voice was betrayed by the sweet caresses of his digits down your forearm.

« I mean, her plan did happen so I think it’s a win for her. It’s not like you regret what happened, mhm? » Alas, nothing but silence in return. « Zoro? » You called him, but an angel passed. « Zoro! » You repeated more sternly, and this time you were met with the sound of his snores— of course, typical Zoro fashion.

Well, you knew who you were going to thank now.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro one piece #zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #Pirate Hunter Zoro #one piece zoro #zoro imagine #zoro one shot

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taetaespeaches · 3 years

Text

“You can’t fight destiny.”

hoseok x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 3.6K

a/n: Hi lovelies!! Here is Hoseok and Petal/reader’s first date. Petal is expecting dinner and then Hobi hijacks the date. It’s kind of chaos but :( they like each other so much :( ok, thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :))

DINNER was safe. Simple and lowkey. The perfect first date for two people who were taking it slow. Probationary friends, you reminded yourself.

However, when you stepped out the doors of your apartment building to spot Hoseok leaning against the passenger side of his car, his arms crossed over his ribcage wearing that sunshine smile, you had to admit it was hard to remember why exactly you were taking things slow.

“Petal,” he called out in excitement, you holding back a giggle as you smiled at him.

“Sunshine,” you replied happily, Hoseok opening the door for you. “Oh, he’s chivalrous,” you noted teasingly, the man chuckling.

“Just a gentleman,” he responded, adjusting his non-existent bowtie, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Thank you,” you told him sincerely, Hobi giving you a small smile that made his dimples just above the corners of his mouth pop out.

“Hi, Petal,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your lower back, pulling you into a hug. Your arms easily draped over the back of his neck as he kissed your cheek.

“Hey,” you grinned. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, pulling away from him, but leaving your hands at the nape of his neck as your fingers toyed with ends of his hair.

“Well,” he nodded to the car. “Let me show you.”

Nodding to him, you crawled into the passenger seat, Hoseok waiting until you were situated before shutting the door and jogging around the front of the car. You watched as his hair bounced atop his head, dyed blonde with a pinkish highlight throughout making it appear almost peach. It looked good on him.

As Hoseok opened the driver side door, hopping into the vehicle, you appreciated the way the black jeans hugged his thighs, his white t-shirt tucked into them neatly, a jean jacket finishing the look.

“You don’t mind less than classy foods, do you?” He asked as he pulled out onto the street, you giving him a questioningly look.

“I’m not picky,” you confirmed. “What are we eating?” You pried with a small chuckle.

A smile curved on the man’s lips as he continued looking forward, driving you to an unknown destination. “I’m trying to surprise you, Petal,” he giggled, you rolling your eyes as you settled in your seat, though you wore a fond grin.

“I’m not used to surprises,” you told him, the man humming thoughtfully.

“Well you better get used to them,” he noted, making you let out a small breathy laugh. Hoseok’s presence in your life has been nothing but a massive surprise, and a bright one at that, so you had no doubt that the longer this went on the more surprises and brightness he’d bring.

The car ride was relatively quiet but comfortable. It was as though Hoseok was trying to ensure you’d be relaxed without the pressure of filling the air with nervous talk. However, the silence was shattered when the man pulled into a parking lot for a massive carnival.

“I thought we were getting dinner?” You gawked at the man, Hoseok giggling as he nodded.

“We are. They have food at these things you know,” he joked, you letting out a scoff of disbelief.

“You said, ‘a casual dinner, nothing major’,” you pointed out, Hoseok giggling happily. “You’re insane,” you told him through a massive smile, the excitement of the carnival already making you giddy.

“A good insane?” He questioned as he parked the car. Turning to look at you, he smiled vibrantly, you looking at him scrutinizingly.

“Undetermined,” you teased, the man letting out an open-mouthed unabashed laugh, the image and sound giving you a sincere feeling of happiness. “But this is amazing, I wasn’t expecting this at all,” you told him more seriously.

“Should we go eat our casual dinner?” He asked, you scoffing through a laugh.

“Lead the way, Sunshine.”

The man was insane, and you weren’t even sure he was fully aware of how loud and unapologetically gleeful he was. Screams were leaving the man as you competed against him in a carnival game in which you shot water guns into the mouths of some creepy little clown heads to try to fill a water balloon up until it exploded. The first to pop the balloon won and you were definitely beating him. The contrast between you both, Hoseok yelling and making loud sound effects as he struggled to keep his aim and you with your silent focus as you shot your own water gun, was stark and hysterical.

A particularly ridiculous scream-laugh that sounded from Hoseok had a giggle slipping from you, making you lose your aim, you letting out a small grunt of surprise before quickly recovering. It was only seconds later that your balloon popped, the sound startling Hoseok as he jumped before laughing.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked through his grin, both of you looking at his nearly half-filled balloon, you tossing your head back in laughter as Hoseok watched you fondly.

“Sunshine, I don’t think I’m all that good, I think you’re just that bad,” you teased him, the man letting out a sound of disapproval though he wore an amused smile. “Which stuffed animal do you want?” You asked, the man looking at you with wide eyes that appeared innocent and touched.

“I’m supposed to win you something,” he noted, you giggling. “That one looks like my dog,” he cooed, you gasping in response.

“You have a dog?” You asked him in excitement, Hoseok’s smile widening in response to you unfiltered happiness at the information. It was as if he was making a mental note. Loves animals.

“Yeah, Mickey,” he told you. “You’ll have to meet him.”

Pouting you nodded quickly. “I’d love to.” Turning back to the carnival worker, you asked for the stuffed dog and as soon as it was in your hand, you turned to the man with a wide grin. “For you, Sir.”

“Now this is cute,” he commented as he took the stuffed animal, cooing at it as he inspected it. “Thank you,” he beamed at you. Yeah. This is cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed through your fond grin. “Come on, I wanna kick your ass in bumper cars.”

Hoseok watched you wide-eyed as you headed toward the bumper cars, frozen in his place for a moment. “You can’t even win in bumper cars,” he called out, his feet finally moving in a jog to catch up with you, you turning around to flash him a smile with a giggle. “Can you?” He asked, his pitch higher than before as he thought out loud to himself.

“You can win anything,” you responded, shooting him a feigned very serious expression.

“Ah, you’re competitive,” he realized, you smirking as you raised your hand to your face, squinting at your index finger and thumb that were pinched together to silently indicate ‘a little bit’. Hoseok giggled and you realized it was quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds, just behind the carefree cackle he often let out with an open mouth, completely unabashed. Paired with his sunshine smile, you found yourself wanting to make him laugh as much as possible. Lucky for you, he wasn’t stingy in the slightest with sharing his joy.

You watched fondly as Hoseok crawled into a bumper car, sweetly tucking the stuffed dog into his jean jacket, patting its head before looking toward you with a playful glare. “You’re going down, Petal.”

“Calm down, Hoseok, you can’t even win at bumper cars,” you teased, the man scoffing through that adorable laugh, the feelings of utter fondness filling your chest almost making you bashful under his gaze. What the fuck?

The first crash into Hoseok’s bumper car had him screaming with a massive smile, the man trying to steer into you as you smashed into him once again, the jolt of his body within the car causing him to look at you in surprise. Eyes blown wide, you burst into cackles at the expression, crumbling against the steering wheel giving the man an opportunity to drive into the side of your car, your laughing figure flailing to the side as Hoseok’s amusement sounded overtop all of the crashes and screams from other drivers.

Now you weren’t one for romantic cliches, but perhaps Hoseok was the exception as the world seemed to slow down around you at the sight of his glee. As he wore that smile you already adored, it felt like you’d been thrown into a scene from a romantic comedy, and you’d arrived to the moment where you realized how much this person was going to mean to you.

It was still new, and of course you were taking things slow, but somethings you just know. And you and Hoseok always did have a weird undeniable chemistry that you felt even when you were trying to deny it. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if the man who tucked a toy dog into his coat for its safety during bumper cars stayed in your life for a while.

The sun was setting and you were still roaming around the carnival, a hot dog on a stick in one hand as you made a peace sign with the other, smiling happily at Hoseok’s phone.

As he lowered the device, scrolling through the shots, he sighed, shaking his head. “That bad?” You asked, the man tsking.

“You look so good in all of them,” he informed you, you pulling your eyebrows together in question. “You make me look bad,” he added, looking up at you with a smile.

“Oh shut up,” you immediately negated, appearing grumpy in an instant. “You’re handsome, don’t be silly.”

The man giggled happily at the seriousness behind your words, enjoying your brief moment of anger. “You get riled up so easily,” he teased, you rolling your eyes as you leaned toward him to look at the phone screen.

“I don’t tolerate nonsense,” you told him with a small smile, Hobi staring at you as you inspected the photo. “Send this to me.”

“You’re cute,” he told you as he looked to the photo. “This one? You sure?”

“Yeah, you look adorable and the pup is in it,” you smiled, patting the stuffed animal on the head that Hobi held in his inner-elbow. He smiled giddily at you just before sending the photo to you.

As you took a bite of your hotdog, you scanned your surroundings mindlessly, making eye contact with an older woman who smiled, you shooting a polite smile with a small bow back before looking back to your date.

“What’s next, Sunshine?” You asked, the man humming as he looked around.

“I’m- not- sure,” he said slowly as he looked around. “More games? Just standing here doing nothing? I just really don’t want the date to end yet,” he smiled shyly, you nearly cooing at how sweet and cute he was.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want it to end either,” you assured him easily. And you really didn’t. Being back in your apartment alone was the last place you wanted to be in that moment. You both started walking through the carnival once again, eyeing different vendors and booths. “Games sound good, but do you really want me to kick your ass some mo-” you started but found yourself interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

Turning to your side, you spotted the woman who smiled at you moments ago. “Would you like a reading?” She asked you, gesturing down to the tarot cards in her hands, and that’s when you realized she was a fortune teller for the carnival.

“Oh, no, that’s ok. Thank you,” you tried to evade the reading, smiling but shaking your head.

“Free,” she grinned, you shaking your head more adamantly as Hoseok placed a hand to your lower back, giggling as he guided you to the table.

“Come on, Petal, it’s just a little reading,” he teased you through a massive smile.

“Would you stop it?” You whispered to him quietly, the man giggling in amusement, you cursing him under your breath as the woman and the traitor pushed you into the chair.

As Hobi entered behind you, the woman closed a curtain so you were secluded in a weird little booth set up. Fucksake. It hardly even felt professional and you were not one to believe in this kind of stuff anyway. You quickly took the remaining bite of your hotdog, handing the stick to Hoseok for him to deal with as the woman took her seat across the table from you.

Laying out five cards that you didn’t know a single thing about even after her explanations, she hummed thoughtfully. “Have you had any recent changes take place in your life?” Looking behind you toward Hoseok, you nodded your head. “A new lover perhaps?”

Refusing to answer, you simply stared at the woman. “Well, the cards show that you’ve had new factors enter into your personal life and that this is quite the transitional time for you,” she explained. “Using lessons learned from the past, you are now ready for new life experiences that could be lasting.”

“That sounds promising, Petal,” Hobi teased from behind you, you holding back a smile at his words, the man giggling at your expense.

“You might have a particular barrier, perhaps an emotional one, holding you back from your full potential with this new factor, but the cards show that you are destined for a bright future,” the woman told you, you nodding slowly. If you didn’t know better, you would have though Hoseok had set this whole thing up.

“Bright, huh?” You asked through a small smile, Hoseok’s hand squeezing your shoulder. “I wouldn’t say that bright,” you teased, the man laughing happily.

“Would you like me to elaborate more?” She asked, you quickly shaking your head.

“No no, but thank you,” you smiled sincerely. “Let me pay you,” you smiled, standing up. “Hoseok,” you greeted, patting his chest. “You can cover the cost for the reading right?” You smirked, Hobi grinning as he pulled out his wallet.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, handing some money to the woman.

Pulling the curtain open and stepping outside, you began walking away as Hoseok called your name, the smile and laugh evident in his voice.

“You are so obnoxious,” you commented, turning around to lightly hit his arm, the man cackling at your expense, wrapping you up in a hug.

“I know I am,” he admitted, you reluctantly folding your arms over his waist.

“Annoying,” you added, the man giggling near your ear.

“But bright,” he noted cheerfully, you groaning against his chest as you pulled away from him. “I’m just saying,” he started teasingly, “You can’t fight destiny.”

Reaching for your hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours as he pulled you to stand beside him. “Yeah, yeah,” you dismissed, though the smile on your face told him were far from annoyed by him in that moment. Letting out a mixture of a groan and a laugh, you leaned your head back with your eyes closed as you exhaled deeply. “I can’t believe you made me do that,” you giggled, opening your eyes, the full moon coming into view. “Oh my god,” you said in surprise and excitement.

“Huh?” Hoseok responded with wide eyes.

“The moon,” you pointed, the man’s eyes following.

“Ah, it’s full tonight,” he noted, both of you staring up at the big shining beauty.

“I love the moon,” you said quietly, mesmerized for a moment by the glowing orb. The sounds of the carnivals surrounded you, but you didn’t pay them any mind as you allowed yourself to be submerged by the feeling of being underneath the full moon with Hoseok. “I try to track its phases but I usually end up forgetting the day of the full moon,” you explained, your date looking from the sky to you, appreciating the way your eyes beamed underneath the moon’s illumination. He thought you looked stunning and he was tempted to kiss you. “My fatal flaw,” you joked, Hobi smiling in response.

“I’ll try to remind you,” he replied, a hopeful tone to his voice that had you looking from the moon to the man’s cheerful face.

You both stared at each other for a moment before you glanced down toward his lips. “What exactly are the terms of this probationary friendship?” He asked with a smirk, you giggling as you met his gaze once again.

“I figured we’d just make it up as we go,” you shrugged.

“In that case,” he grinned, “Can I kiss you, Petal?”

Though the thought of teasing him entered your mind, you wanted to kiss him just as badly. Smiling back at him, you nodded, leaning closer to the man. Hoseok slowly closed the gap, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips a few times as if he was making certain you were sure. You squeezed his hand that was still holding yours, and his eyes fluttered shut as yours did just before his soft lips met your own, greeting you in a sweet and graceful kiss.

The action didn’t last long but it was perfect, Hoseok pulling away, the kiss lingering on your lips as you grinned, opening your eyes to see his own joyful expression.

“I’m quite enjoying our friendship,” he joked, you giggling as you nodded.

“No complaints from me,” you agreed.

“Not even about the tarot reading?” He asked in surprise, that same teasing smile.

“Ok, one complaint,” you corrected, the man chuckling as he tugged on your hand, leading you through the carnival, you watching him from behind with a big dumb smile on your face.

Spotting an ice cream stand, you pulled on his hand, the man turning around to look at you with wide eyes. “Do you want ice cream?”

“Ooh,” he said in a timid excitement. Pulling out his wallet, he began walking toward the stand, you quickly placing your free hand to his chest.

“No, it’s on me,” you told him, Hoseok cocking his head at you. “You just relax, watch the dog,” you smiled, Hoseok giggling. “What kind do you want?”

“Mint chocolate,” he told you, you pulling a questioningly look.

“Really?” You asked, the man nodding.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re a mintcho hater,” he spoke as if he was preparing for disappointment, you shaking your head with a chuckle.

“No, no, it’s fine, stay calm, Sunshine,” you giggled. “Just not my favorite either,” you informed him, your date clutching his chest in feigned relief. Shaking your head at his reaction, you pulled your hand from his as you turned toward the ice cream. “One mintcho coming up,” you called to him.

As you waited in line for the ice cream, you couldn’t help but think of the tarot reading. You really didn’t believe in that stuff all that much, but why was it so fitting? Why did she all but demand to give you of all people a reading? What were the chances of that night being the full moon? And why was Hoseok someone you could see spending a lifetime with after only one single date?

Collecting the cones, one mint chocolate and one vanilla, you turned back to where you left Hoseok to find the area empty. Scanning the crowds of people, he suddenly walked into your view sporting a massive beam that almost had you nervous about what had caused it. But fuck it was stunning.

Looking at him skeptically, you held the cone out in his direction. “Why are you so smiley- what the fuck is that?” You asked, spotting the plastic bag filled with water that he held in his grasp down by his thigh, a small goldfish circling the perimeter.

“I finally won you something,” he told you cheerfully, taking the cone from you and immediately taking a big lick.

“You won me a fish?” You asked in shock, the man giggling as he nodded. “Hoseok, what the hell am I supposed to do with a fish?”

“Well, feeding it would be a good start,” he informed you jokingly, you huffing at him.

“I cannot believe you,” you shook your head, staring at the little fish that swam around in the bag.

“You have to take it, I already have Mickey,” he noted, you rolling your eyes.

“Well of course I’m gonna take it,” you told the man, taking a lick from your own cone. “Have I told you that you’re obnoxious?” You asked jokingly, crouching down to take a closer look at your new pet.

“Maybe once,” he joked back, you glancing up at the man to scoff at him, though your lips were positioned in a smile.

“It needs a name,” you pointed out, Hoseok humming in thought.

“How about Luna?” He asked. “To commemorate the night and the moon you’re so fond of,” he explained, you smiling, completely smitten with the man. Nodding at him, he gave you a single nod back. “Maybe Luna here is the new factor in your life that will lead you a destined bright future,” he said, you standing up straight to look at his face, your eyes scanning his gorgeous features.

“I don’t think so, Sunshine,” you whispered to him, watching in utter fondness as his beautiful smile stretched across his face.

There was nothing brighter than the sun, after all. And looking at Hobi’s beaming grin, in that moment, you and him, a future together, it all felt pretty damn destined.

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opalsdarkreadings · 3 years

Text

✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣: 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✰

Pairings: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, x gender neutral reader

Warnings: light cursing

Notes: writers block is a bitch! Took like three weeks to write this ;-; I still hope you guys enjoy this little fluff. As you can probably tell I suck at it and I’m trying to get better 😭

『𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠』

This was going to be one of the Christmas you never forget, he promised himself that. Each year you found some way to knock him off his feet, every gift being etched into his memory never to be forgotten.

He wanted the same for you. This need of acceptance and praise from you was bigger then any sweet tooth craving he’s ever had. He wanted this year to be the year that truly left you speechless. After all you were his lover and deserved nothing less.

But whatever he came up with just didn’t sit right. Trips and expensive gifts, just material things like cars or shoes couldn’t possibly bring the punch he was looking for. You needed something that’ll forever be engraved into your mind, something that the mere thought of would bring tears to you.

He didn’t care for his gifts but when it concerned you, only the best was presented and he’ll be damn if he lets it slip this year. But he was pulling at straws at this point, some things were just cliche and cheesy. Dresses, designer clothes, bags etc they all seemed to pale in comparison.

Well till he landed on this rare find.

Satoru was quit persistent in getting you into sharing one of his treats. The Christmas theme cake hadn’t even been cut yet, as he tried to get you into the kitchen. “Come on~ it’s really good I get it every year! So you have to try it.” He said smiling as he stood towering over you. A skeptical glance was thrown back to him as your place a hand over your hip, “And when did you ever share any of your rare sweet treats with me agian?” Not only was this unusual, it’s damn near unheard of. Your lover had a ginormoussweet tooth that’ll leave even large cake corporations at bankruptcy’s trying to cater to Satoru. His sweet tooth always aching for more, turning him into a beast of gluttony when concerning these treats. However he persisted, talking so highly about the cake you were beginning to become intrigued yourself about the delicious gem hidden in the white box on the table. “Alright fine..” you sighed in defeat and allow for your eager boyfriend to drag you out the living room and into your shared kitchen. Something was definitely off, he was eager, excited,...maybe even nervous? His usual demeanor of going with flow and laid back attitude had disappear. He seemed almost like a child getting ready to tell their parents of there recent troubles they’ve gotten into. However, he left no time for you to ponder on his odd behavior, and instead gently pushed the box to you and grins. The box beng small so you was puzzled as to why he was sharing it in the first place. Questioningly you glance to him, before untieing the little red bow on top, and pushing opening the box. A moment of pause, before a soft gasp left you. A bright sapphire as bright as Satoru own eyes stared back at you. The gem being as clear and bright as any beachs ocean gleamering as the kitchen lights shines above. The sliver ring holding the jewel was embedded with little small diamond along the curve of the metal. Giving it a simple yet still elegant finish. You gap to him like fish, gasping for word to form. “S-satoru?!”

You were left speechless and he knew he had outdone himself. Your eyes, so wide that they looked ready to fall out of your sockets as you gasp for sentence or word to fall from your lips.

This cocky little shit was eating up your reaction with the utmost confident air around him. Though it did dispel his nervousness he’s had since he spotted the ring.

I know right? The strongest being scared? Unheard of, but god was it killing him. He had nothing, robbed of his childhood by the same people that criticize him to this day. His existence used for that to be a tool, looked too at the strongest but was he? Maybe that’s why he felt a need to hid behind his smile, a need to cover up the fucked up shit swelling Internally

He wanted to hide it, but you just couldn’t take no for an answer

You saw past the disguise of his, his cocky and laid back attitude only cushion the many times he’s nearly broken down on a day to day bases. His sweets and little trips only serving as an escape from the cruel world he was born into, from the hurt and betrayal he’s faced.

He loved you so much, and just wanted to make it official. He wants to make it known that you are his, that you are something that he cares deeply about. That the holidays were just days to him until you came around. You turned these days into something special and without you, he wouldn’t find pleasure in this.

“Satoru...are you-.”

“Well? I’m waiting cutie~.” He said back smirking as he rests his chin over your shoulder.

You smile, humming as you examine the ring. “well I’m still quite puzzled mind explaining what you’re trying to say?” You tease and he roll his eyes playfully

“Well sense my little cutie isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed~ I’m asking for you to marry me, now say yes and become mine.” Satoru explained and slide the ring over your ring finger. Glowing at how well it contrasted against you’re skin tone.

He pressed a kiss over the knuckle of the ring finger. “Well if I’m not the sharpest I best be the most well built.” You raise a brow and Satoru grins

“Maybe~.”

“Don’t make me put you outside.”

『𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚 𝕀𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕚』

You peeked over you boyfriends shoulder. His lips presssed together in a fine line as mumbles over the cook book. Little cookie cutters of gingerbread men and snowmen sitting idly by beside him. He was so deeply concentrated in his own work, he hadn’t notice you reaching out and scooping some of the mix onto your finger. “Yuji~.” You called out to him sweelty , your cookie batter, covered finger hidden behind you as you waited for his response . “Oh yeah? What’s-eh!” He turned to face you, smiling till your spread the batter over his nose and cackle in laughter. You jump back, snickering as you pink hair lover went crossed eyed to see the gunck over his nose. Grining you threw up a hand to him and shrugs, “Oops.” He pouts to you and wipes the batter from his nose, “Ah! Babe that not funny, you totally took me by surprise.” He said grabbing the bowel of soft cookie batter , a devilish grin spreading over his lips as he scoops a handful.“That’s the-.” You squeaked as batter came flying at you at rocket launch speed and splat against your shirt. You go wide eyed , and this time, it’s your boyfriend laughing his ass off at your surprises and hurt expressions. “Oh?! This means war pretty boy!” You sneered back to him, both of you eyeing the flower idly laying over the counter. A moment of silence took you both, before chaos was let loose.

Flour, eggs, and whatever condiments you could fine along with cookie batter flew across the kitchen of the apartment. Your laughter and shouts of glee carrying out in the room as you both bounce around like children in the snow

This cookie war ending with both of you near the kitchen doors. Soon enough, having you collapse over the floor in fits of giggles as flour and batter cling to your hair and clothes. Though it did nothing to dampen your sprits, as you both just smile like idiots in each other presence and huff out of breath.

As silly as it may sound, you both just found relief in being in each other presence. Moments like this being few in numbers already with both of your busy lifestyle. As these were the only times that you two weren’t fighting just to live, but to enjoy the life you fought so hard to keep. To be young adults and and enjoy the mundane things that many others would see no joy in. A time where you both could forget the responsibility laid out on you and shrink back to your child like selves again.

For Yuji, you were, In his eyes the greatest gift anyone to give him. He never had lot of people to count on, but for you...you meant the world to him and he wouldn’t know how he survived this long without you.

“Hey...look what we’re under.” Yuji whispered to you, grinning like a lovesick fools as your eyes trail over to the mistletoe hanging lazily from the door frame of the kitchen. A small chuckle left your lips and your glance back to to your eager boyfriend, who was practically ready to pounce on you.

“Oh? Now you want a kiss after ruining my favorite shirt. Clearly I must have become quit the softy.” You teased, but leaned in nonetheless to seal the space between your. Your lips pressed together gently before locking into a sweet kiss. One hand cupping along his cheek while he opt to pull you close to his chest.

Only breaking your contact to pressed another to your temple, “mhm Merry Christmas baby.” He smiles to you

“Yeah, yeah, you owe me a new shirt.”

『𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 𝕄𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕚』

Megumi didn’t quit understand your obsession with Christmas. Yes it was quit a fun time of the year with giving and just great things that happen around this time but...it was like any other holiday.

People go out, celebrate, eat, give out some sort of gift with set theme of celebration and party till theirs drunk off their ass. It’s nothing new.

He just wished sometimes you weren’t his weak spot.

“Come on Megumi, I’m sure you’ll look great.” You encouraged as you stood outside your bedroom waiting for your lover. A grunt of distaste was heard from him and you roll your eyes back. “I look like an idiot.” He grumbles from behind the door. Refusing to come out as you huff. “The parties in like 30 minutes, plus we have to catch the train to get there so hurry up.” You told him. It’s silent on the other end before a brief click was heard the door slowly opens. You beam seeing Megumi as he steps out, a loud red sweater with actual ornaments hang off them jingle as he walks by. You stifle your laughter and grin to him, “See was that so hard?” You asked him, snickering under your breath. he grimaced each time he walks and sighs heavily, “you owe me big time for this..” he mumbles, face fix into a that of disgust as once over both of your outfits, “Why did you choose these of all the outfits we could have worn?” He asked you, “Well Nobara and Yuji are all wearing ugly sweaters so we decided to do it as a group things I just found the ugliest ones possible.” You grin to him , taking his hand and dragging your poor green eyed lover. “Y/n I love you, but you seriously trying to kill me from embarrassment.” He groans, earning a laugh from you as you glance back to him. A soft grin already spreading over his lips, though he tried to hid it by turining his face.

He didn’t care for the holidays, but here he was being dragged off to a party celebrating it just to see you smile more and beam in happiness to him. Holidays were once times he spent alone, locked away from the cheerful couples that mocked his loneliness everytime he went out around this year. A time he used to reflect over all the fucked up shit he endure over the year.

When you came into his life, that feeling is bitterness began to melt. He no longer looked to the holiday as bitter reflections on the year but a time that he was able to spend with the person he cared the most with.

Yes he still got caught up in his thought and things he could’ve done and what he should’ve done, but now he had your gently touch to lure him back to the present. To keep his focus on the time that’s in front of him, you were the rock he always needed and no gift could ever replace that.

“Megumi thank you, for coming with me. I know this is out your comfort zone and all but I’m really proud of you.” You told him grinning back to him as you pecks his cheek and grabbed hold of his hand. His large palm taking yours and squeezing it back as he nods, “it’s nothing.” He says back shaking his head. His soft green orbs finding their way back to your face as he sighs. “I’m only going so you want kill me later on so I better be getting something out of this.” He smirked

“I can always grab that collar? Oh you know what I think it’ll go great with the sweater!” You said excitedly

“N-never mind...wait y/n please I was just playing!”

『ℕ𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕂𝕦𝕘𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕚』

You love the holidays just like the next the person..but Nobara, took holiday shopping to an entire new level

You go into the mall at sunrise and won’t return until the streets light have gone out. Gifts were stack on top of gifts, with even more being carried by you and her(mostly you). Even though majority of them were clothes for herself and you, you still however came out with weeping wallet and empty bank account.

Which leads you into this predicament every year.

Mountain of gifts, wrapping paper, bows, and tape laid sprawled out over the floor. Your feet being buried under shiny red, green, and blue wrapping paper as you sigh heavily from exhaustion. Your been wrapping all night, and have only got to about half of the gift and stuffed under you’re already bloated tree. Your girlfriend, hunched over your couch as she searched for the tape she recently just drop as she mumbles to herself. “I told you you bought to much...again.” You sigh pulling some masking tape off you’re coffee table and handing it to her. she huffed and grabbing the tape and landing back on the floor as she goes back to wrapping. Her hair was slightly clipped back with reindeer clippings, allowing to see her cute little pout as she puffed out her cheek In deep concentration. Smiling you walk over to her and settle down beside her. Head leaning on her shoulder as she finished off the last of her load. “what?” She asked, glancing back to you. “Nothing...you just...look so cute all concentrated like that.” You teased reaching over and pinching at her cheek. “I’m always cute darling~.” She sneered back and swat your hand away playful as she grins slightly. You giggle and wrap you arms around her and rest your chin over her shoulder. She hands the box over to you and you turn and place it under the tree. “Hot coco break?” You suggest, “God yes.” Nobara answer back and you both retreat into the kitchen.

The Christmas spirit never really possessing her like others, she selfishly though of herself and only looked forward to the receiving of holiday. Though you came and shattered that little mindset of hers.

It’s been like that since you came into her life. Pushing her pass her limits and getting her to open up more and more. Her normal confident and brash attitude she gives others, melt away when you gaze to her. Her heart goes ramming into her chest and tightening her throat

You had no idea how much of affect you had on her, the holidays a time she looked forward too. Knowing you’ll be by her side singing those annoying Christmas carols or bouncing around like child to bake some Christmas treats

Her gifts now, being about 1/4 for you and the rest for her but I guess some things can’t entirely change others.

“Babe? Who are all those gifts for anyway?” You question

“Me, and about two or three for you.” Nobara answered while sipping over her hot coco. You sigh in defeat

“Y-you never change..”

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo x reader #yuji itadori x reader #jjk gojo #jjk fushiguro #jjk headcanons #jjk yuji #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jjk nobara #nobara x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader

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thestarsoutofyourwindow · 4 years

Text

11th Doctor x Reader - “If you don’t hold me now I think might just fall apart.”

Authors note: I tried my best to keep this in character- so if this is lacking in a story, that’s because I was a little hesitant to write a climax just in case I got it a little off. The gif isn’t mine, obviously. Crickets, this took a long time, so you BeTTeR aPPreCiaTe It. Just kidding, but I hope you enjoy it, even a little bit!

Now, it’s five am so I better go write some fifth Doctor now :)))

Feel free to tell me if i could improve anything or what you liked or whatever!

Word count: 1,719

Includes: Slight (?) angst, mentioning of being left by the Doctor (just prep yourself)

Requested by: @yourneighbourhoodclown, it won't let me tag them for some reason, so we will have to pretend.

“Where's your adventurous spirit!?" The Doctor giggles, pulling a lever on the TARDIS console, the entire ship convulsing as she dematerializes. His attention wavered between looking at you and the TARDIS.

"Urgh, god knows with all the-" Another lurch cut you off. "Focus on driving before you get us killed."

"Make me," He shouted over to you, running his fingers through his hair, with a smile that could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

Your stomach and eyes rolled in synchronization as the TARDIS jerked about, "I won't get half the chance. You'd think you'd get used to being thrown around in this- BOX- Urg. It doesn't help you're not a very good driver."

"Oi! I am too!" The Doctors scowled for a few moments, but you were to distracted with how your stomach swirled. Yet again the moment was interrupted by you being thrown into the railing.

"Of course you are, dear." You taunted him.

"Oh, this is gonna be a rough one-!" The Doctor cackled, smiling up at TARDIS console.

"Just like you to show your 'adventurous spirit'." You mocked, rolling your eyes and jabbing your elbow into his side. He glanced at you and furrowed his eyebrows; just as the rain started to pour down on you two. You had found yourselves in a seemingly endless forest, engulfed in an unsettling atmosphere. You just so happened to materialize in a clearing with a convenient dirt pathway littered with branches and bushes, which appeared to lead to some curiosity-sparking warm lights, bare pinpricks in the distance.

You knew the Doctor would want to investigate. You weren't particularly bothered, as long as you had the Doctor by your side.

"Oi you," The Doctor grinned at that, glancing at you then back out to the vast forest, then turned to look at you. "Umbrella?" You asked. He smirked and he pulled one of those large umbrellas, that people have to carry around like a staff or walking stick, yes one of those, out of his pocket. He played with the umbrella-like a sword, thrusting the umbrella and mocking a few blocks. You put your hand on his shoulder and he paused, looking over at you.

"Right, yes-" The Doctor opened the umbrella, which was a lot bigger than most umbrellas, swinging it up and resting it on his shoulder. He held his arm out for you, inviting you under the umbrella with a wink. You stepped under the umbrella, and he draped his arm over your shoulders as the both of you started the brisk walk towards the alluring lights.

Upon reaching the Cabin, which was more like a small mansion -still massive for the one person who lived there yet almost exclusively in the library, you met an old woman with a quaint affinity with voodoo and witchcraft (not the horrible sort though, she seemed quite friendly, if a little odd).

"You know, it doesn't help that every wall here is painted with get out." The Doctor stated, gesturing to the wall with a slight nod.

"I'm sorry?" The old, witch-like woman asks. The Doctor gestured to the wall, his face squished up, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"You don't see that?" He tensed, pulling out the sonic from his jacket and scanning the wall, and then you and the woman. He checked it and you could almost pin the moment his jaw went slack.

"Y-you have been marked-" The old witch sputtered. Your blood ran cold when you heard that. The Doctor, who was standing just next to you, brushed his fingers against yours, seemingly in search of contact- comfort. You curl your fingers around his, not taking your eyes off the woman.

"What do you mean marked?" You ask, after a few too many moments of silence. The woman seemed to snap out of a trance and

turns around, rushing back to her library nook.

"He- he is doomed. The Beast himself has left his mark."

"You keep saying that, but what does that mean, ma'am?" You only asked out of concern. You gave the Doctors hand a squish of comfort. It wasn't uncommon for the Doctor to hold hands with you, so you didn't consider that to be particularly weird

"Your husband here-" The lady starts, shakily flipping through the book she had picked up.

"Oh no, we're not even-" You shake your head.

"He spoke of, writing- on the walls. That's always the first step. He will be contaminated by the beast- you and me, we're in danger."

"Of course it had to be me..." the Doctor mutters, staring into nowhere. You could nearly see his fear, the smallest hint of anticipation in his eyes. This will be... something.

"What's going to happen to me?" He asked.

"It will take your mind, turn it against you, and twist you to madness. You will then kill us." The woman shook her head, looking out of the window with a solemn pout. "It has happened before and it will happen again. If you will excuse me, I need to protect the rest of this planet." She scurried off, a little satchel being yanked off a counter, knocking a few candles and unburnt sage sticks and other oddities, some less recognizable.

"Wait, no don't-" The Doctor called after her, but she had already left. "Urgh."

As soon as she had left, you briskly walked over to where she was stood, investigating the book she was flipping through so religiously, all the while handing in hand with the Doctor. You moved your hand from his so you could flip the pages of the book, but his hand only grabbed at your sleeve.

"Basically, uh..." You mutter, whilst consulting the page of the apparently gospel book, "Give me a heads up if start to feel any murderous tendencies." You chuckled flatly.

Let's say, the two of you weren't particularly keen on remembering what happened. Or talking about it. But you could tell something was weighing down on him. You could also bet on your life what it might be.

The two of you were standing in the medbay, just a few hours after you had found your ways back to the TARDIS. Your "escape" wasn't something you were proud of. Both of you had tried, and succeeded in a way, to forget about it as best you could. The unforgettable part was, of course, the fact that, after being hooked up to a machine that literally connected you to satan themself. The Doctor said that "that was a very silly idea and to never do that again, also you might have slowed your ageing by like, 10000% but that's here or there you were literally connected to satan are you good". Well maybe not that exactly but that's the general point.

That was almost too convenient, you thought to yourself. Almost like you were in a romantic fanfiction or something stupid like that. There's nobody better to look after an old time lord like a human that might never age or die if you were careful enough.

The two of you are still in the medbay, and you were just putting a plaster/band-aid on the side of The Doctors' chin when he broke the silence with a classic:

"I- I could've killed you." The doctor states, staring into nothing. "Me! The Doctor... You're my best friend and I could've-"

"Hey. Shhh." You whisper, caressing his cheek with your hand, placing your other hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. I'm alright, and most importantly, you're okay too."

The Doctor's eyes tear up. You tilt his head up and look him in the eye. Oh god, how those big sad eyes make your heart wrench. Despite that, you gave your best reassuring smile. "I'm here. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere."

A raspy sob forces its way out of his throat and his entire body leans into yours. "Hold me." He whimpered into your shoulder. "if you don't hold me now," the doctor sniffles and takes a deep breath, "I think I might just fall apart."

You do just that.

You hold him close, and you don't let go. You have to lean forward a little because the Doctor is sat on a bed, but you don't mind that, you're more focused on rubbing circles on his back and running your fingers through his hair. He tugs you towards him- and you're stood very awkwardly, but you still hug him back; you feel the hot tears practically burning into your shirt.

"It's alright, isn't it?" You ask. The Doctor nods his head frantically in response. "Exactly. It's a-okay. Bad times happen and it's hard to forgive yourself, but always try to remember that I'm here, Doctor. If you can't forgive yourself, I'll forgive you. As much as you might hate it, you're stuck with me now, Doctor." You finish playfully, ruffling his hair again, and going back to curling it around your fingers.

He mumbles something to you through tears, but you don’t quite believe what you heard.

“I love you.” The Doctor sniffles again. “I’m so sorry, but I love you. I know you won’t- you couldn’t ever love me back, not in this way but- I can’t lose you.” He sobs again, his grip tightening on you.

“I love you too.”

Well. For the rest of your years, no matter how many that is, the two of you, no matter what happens, no matter how many people leave, there would always be a constant for the two of you in each other's arms.

In any other circumstance, you’d be thrilled. But right now, you’re terrified. You didn’t want to lose him either, but you knew it wouldn’t be above him to leave you being on earth, in order to ‘protect’ you. Which you and I know, it bloody well wouldn’t. But what you heard next settled your nerves, yet upset you.

“Please... please don’t leave me. Please, please, please, please, please...” The Doctor keeps repeating that, over and over like a broken record.

“I won’t I promise, on anything and everything. Like I said, you’re stuck with me and I love you so, and now I know you love me too I’m not exactly about to bugger off now am I?”

He really thought you’d leave him.

You wouldn't concider it. Not even for a second.

#11th doctor #eleventh doctor #x reader #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #angst #fluff #im back #doctor who #newwho

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quinn-tessence · 3 years

Text

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 3

Summary: you're tormented by the realization Arthur is the killer clown on the news, yet no bone in your body feels any different for him. Not even Casanova's advances could sway your from wanting to hold Arthur in your arms and alleviate his sorrow. He's had a bad day, and retreats on your couch, broken and confused.

Length: 5k words

Warnings: mentions of murder, lack of remorse, guilt and grief, seeking comfort where he'd never had it from. Smut with dear Arthur that could cause a rush of tremors, be warned. 🤭❤

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You sat and watched. Then watched and watched some more. There were no words, no voice, no sound coming through your gaping mouth as the skin on your lips almost started to crack. It made sense. The blood, the bruise, the liberating sex, the wretched guilt. Oh God, what has he done?, you repeated in his voice over and over, that impossible puzzle putting itself together before you as you hid your gouging eyes underneath heavy, sweaty palms in a much too similar reflex to his own.

What has he done? He'd been beaten down surely, given his frail nature you could see how he'd be fluent in being at the receiving end, but as grievous as the thought was, it made it no less valid. This was bad, he’d land straight into Arkham if you picked up that phone to call the authorities, the way a considerate citizen would, as if Gotham deserved any at all. But you weren't one of them, were you? Never had you really fit in, yet you tried for the sake of appearances, it had become so burdening of late, only the thought of Arthur could provide the comfort you'd been seeking.

The news reports kept blaring, yet all your compassion overflowed for the clown, had you been able to see things objectively you'd still think he was hero. Three fewer assholes in Gotham, only a million more to go, you heard an inner voice say, even if you knew that was enough reason to throw you into the depths of Arkham Asylum. You'd sadly known that place from family, and you never wanted to set foot in that Tartarus again, but perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You couldn't stomach the thought of Arthur sitting opposite the glass wall from you, so dozed up on sedatives he'd hardly even recognize you. No, no, no. You wouldn't let that happen, and yet he'd need his own time and space to process.

You resisted the urge to bang on his door and ask for a full account, it felt as if you were a passenger on a derailing, speeding train. Regardless of how breathtaking the turquoise water under the rails, your gut wrenched at the thought of plunging into it head first. You were a decent swimmer, but you knew you’d be incapable of fighting those waters from swallowing you whole. You'd just given yourself to him, entirely and shamelessly, and regret was nowhere in sight. Had you been the forth prey of his killing spree, he would have killed you already. Yet he did the exact opposite, in distress and quivering like a leaf, but it was your door he opened after his rupture. He trusted you to keep this secret for him. And you welcomed the trust.

Within a few days you noticed you'd returned to your bad habit of unconscious nails biting. As if the deafening tumult between your temples wasn't enough, you also had to self flagellate as you desperately waited in silence.

You were busy enough at work, and the newest addition to your team had become daring enough to invade your private space little by little. Tall. Lean. Broad shouldered. Curly caramel hair and eyes of obsidian, winking at you shamelessly each time he passed by you. Patrick was a force in his field, yet he rolled his eyes and tongued his cheek whenever you'd call on him for a task, as if wanting to taunt you. Quite quirky and unprofessional, but restrictive enough to question yourself if you were merely projecting. Not once had he failed to deliver, on the contrary, yet that sly attitude never left him. Hm. The distraction was welcome, but it was nothing more. You'd catch yourself staring through him, picturing sparkling emeralds and cocoa, having to snap yourself back to reality before he'd think it was him you were aching for just like all your infatuated colleagues.

He must have checked with your giggly girlfriends before casually slipping in an invitation to your favorite bar after hours, casual drinks with a few colleagues, of course. Perhaps you should have politely declined, but you needed the respite from the heart wrenching torment, even if just for a few hours.

As empty as the venue was, he insisted on strolling in your visual field, intriguingly charming, maybe a bit too charismatic. It was time to maintain a level of dignity with your colleagues and remove yourself before getting into a state where you'd find yourself in Arthur's apartment, this time fully conscious. Yet Patrick gallantly offered to drive you over, posing a certain concern for your safety alone in the streets with a murdering clown on the loose. HA! You giggled at the joke being on him, silently talking to yourself. No thank you, you rascal, protection from that clown is the last thing I need. He insisted on paying for the taxi at least, and you’d had two drinks and wanted to be home already.

The thunderstorm washed the streets rapidly as you entered your building. You loved ravenous thunderstorms, especially as they traversed the sky over your cozy apartment bathed in lily scent. You took comfort in the hot shower and the chilly air in the room, lightning bolts clearing up the sky for a flash of a second as you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, ready for Murray's dry humor.

Oh God! Your heart leapt to your throat as a soaked silhouette bathed your floors in cocoa flavor. At last.

‘Arthur! You scared me!’ he lay motionless, your words passing through him as if he wasn't even there. ‘Is everything ok?’

His damp fingers absently traced a faint line over the glass of your coffee table, his body slouched and stiff, the edges of his hair dripping on the couch.

‘I had a bad day.’

The words had come from a deep dark pit inside his chest, a wretched misery draped across his face as you kneeled next to him, cupping his cheeks. You'd ached to see his sparkling jades, yet you'd met them covered in a thick coat of tears, on the edge of dropping.

‘Arthur, what happened, sweetheart? Talk to me, please' He was so tired and withered, not even the wicked cackle would surface in this state.

‘I had a bad day…’

‘You said that, sweetheart, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

‘Kitten. I've done something… I…’ for seconds he tried to articulate, but the cackle fought its way up his throat.

‘Arthur shhhh. I know it was you. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I won't force you… I won’t judge you for it, I promise. Just sit with me for a second’ his head already leaning on your chest, your palm caressing his piercing bones, even through sets of clothes. He sat sedated, limbs heavy, flesh trembling, voice cackling in wrenching anguish for what felt like minutes on end.

‘You do?’ he asked between ruptures as if to steer his initial subject into whatever you'd conveniently brought up.

‘I do. I knew it the moment I heard the news after you stormed out. I saw the blood and the bruise on your face. You won't find any judgement here, I promise. I know you needed time to process, but you’re here now. Shhh' you almost cradled him in your arms, the most powerful instinct to protect him even from himself overbearing. He was all bone and sinew, like a hungry lone wolf, but there now was a sinister vibe to him.

‘Good. I'm glad you know. I lost my job that day, and then they attacked me in the subway, beating me to a pulp. Hm. Now you'll know that killing them hasn't bothered me at all. How's that for casual conversation?’

An unnerving tremor slid down your spine at the tone of his voice. You'd known him for a while, yet this resentful sneer was far from something you'd expect from timorous Arthur. Dreadful it's what it was, spine-tingling, intriguing, you were utterly mad to clasp this deranged man to your bosom when another prince charming just waited for one damn look from you. Who cared, you thought, Gotham’s gonna claim all of us sooner or later.

‘All I want is for you to be safe, Arthur. I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, sweetheart, you can't be saying things like those to anyone, please'

‘I have no one to tell, Y/N. And you’re not just anyone. You know. I’m still here, although you could have thrown me in police custody for the past few days.’ The cackles had given him a short respite, even if still lingering on the edge of bursting. He wheezed heavily before speaking. ‘My whole life I didn't even know if I really existed. And today, I feel… hollow…’

You'd asked and asked again as you touched his face and held it close to yours, his forehead as cold as the thunderstorm outside this comforting protective bubble.

‘My mother had a heart attack. She's in the hospital. Hah. My mother…’ a late instinct turned your skin to prickles hearing him speak from a different octave, a thick air of mustering resentment filling the room. ‘I had a few days to myself and I decided to deliver a letter to Thomas Wayne from her, seeing how he never bothered to write back. I'd told you she worked for him 30 years ago, and I read it although I shouldn’t have. I'd never known my father, but the letter said it was him. I confronted my mother and she told me everything about the two of them. But… instead of some warmth or a bit of decency, he told me my mother was insane and that I had been adopted. That and a punch to the face is what I got. Hm. Who am I, then? You tell me'

Your own eyes on the brink of overflowing, your soul coiled. You couldn't do much, but he needed comfort. Where would you even start, though? His tone of voice, the grief weighing him down, the droplets off his wet hair disintegrating whatever pieces were left of him, a question mark in stead of whomever he thought he'd been his whole life. Yet he didn't expect comfort. Such a foreign concept to him, as if reserved only to an elite he was not part of and would not dare intrude upon. You could easily hear how he'd just laugh it out into his pillow at night, his cries stifled, lacking a corner of privacy and personal intimacy where he could really build up that forced smile he'd put on every next day. You’d go utterly mad if you were in his shoes, no comfort and no expectation of it. So used to being overlooked, deep down he knew he was alone, and that filled him with fear and hopelessness. So you shushed and nuzzled him to your chest, hoping the warmth of your body would be soothing enough for the chaos that he was.

‘I don't know who I am, kitten. So I went down to Arkham and stole my mother's file just to find that he'd been right. The… horrors… she subjected me to as a child had gotten me locked up in Arkham years ago, but now I think I was just trying to hide from her, from this rotten city, from this world. I felt safe in that white room, ironically. When they released me, the heavy medication was supposed to make me feel better, instead it suffocated even my most basic impulses.’

Laughter ripped at his throat and pulled his face into a grimace, your palms clasping him so tightly you were afraid you might smother him. How much pain and grief could a man take, his poor soul must have been bound to an eternal rock, forever pecked by hungry vultures.

‘How can you even welcome me into your home if I don't even know that much? I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should go, no need to burden you with any of this' he meant every word, as he kissed your hands with teary lips and dragged himself half upright.

‘Don't go' you close to begged. ‘Please stay.’

The grooves in his forehead you loved, just as the distinctive scar on his upper lip and the deep dark eye bags crowning his jades, his state of mind added another couple decades to his age. As you took him in through your pores, you remembered the shy clown peering through the shelves, and how the makeup would do the exact opposite of its intended purpose. Somehow he'd been unaware of how the makeup brightened his eyes to a clarity and sharpness you could cut yourself into. It was endearing how he'd stared at you when you'd first seen him wearing the costume, thinking he could hide under that mask when really it only brought him to life, his facial expressivity more riveting than ever. Yet he was here with you, more Carnival than Arthur even without the paint, as broken as a mirror in infinite shards.

‘Will you still have me here after this?’

‘I would. Please. I'm glad you came here after all this instead of going back home.’

The thought he'd ever been intimate with a woman before you had dissipated in an endless pool of murky turquoise, the genuine surprise in his eyes cutting you to your bone. There was no question, you knew.

‘Thank you, kitten. I'll stay, if you want me here'. There was no hiding anymore, you'd made it sparkling clear by being an accessory after the fact.

‘I do, Arthur, so much. I wanted you here… since you held that elevator for me, yet somehow we always missed our moment. No need to thank me…’

Had it not been for the roaring thunder, he'd probably hear your galloping heart, yet his composure betrayed just that acknowledgement. Every fiber in your body ached to touch his soul and mend it. The erotic tension you couldn't deny, but that wasn't anywhere near the reason why you'd willfully allowed yourself to become his accomplice. He sat back down, timidly reaching for your hand with his own smooth fingers, to place it on his cheek, now as warm as to ignite all the fires inside you with only one touch. Regardless of the endless torment of his life, it was so effortless to feel safe in his presence, even if he'd just killed three men in cold blood and joggled his life as he balanced on a thin string.

‘But I want to. Will you... let me thank you?’ his eyes had meekly turned to yours with a restless heeding for that glimpse of complicity you'd joined in a few times before.

‘If you insist, sweetheart, I guess you already did. You're welcome.’ And through that smile you could feel your body radiating as intensely as a candle flame in the dark. You’d tripped and fell into feelings for him, and nothing could brush them off.

‘No... I really want to thank you, kitten...’ Painfully slowly, he drew himself closer to you, a cocktail of demureness and ardor shaping his beautifully chiseled face into one that you'd missed your whole life, without even knowing. ‘I want to... put my mouth on you...’

Oh… He'd shown you a short, blissful glimpse of this other Arthur, the less tense, less uptight, more daring when he'd taken what you both wanted. There was always a limit to his courage, and yet he’d usually fall back into the timid, maiden like demeanor that he was. This felt different though, as there was a glimpse of unbridling in the way he inhaled, in the twitch of his contoured eyebrow, his whispering husky voice demanding consent. He needed this. Perhaps it would help deafen the torment for a quiet minute, and you were willing to let him try. Oh, who were you fooling, your heart had leapt at the thought of this since you saw him motionless on your couch, albeit in your mind the roles had been reversed. You'd bitten your lip instinctively, a most nonverbal cue of compliance to his plea, and within a short second he was tasting it, sucking it, biting it gently, as his nimble fingers strolled so tenderly through your hair to uncover your face, your eyes already deeply sunk behind fluttering eyelids.

‘I want to feel you shiver in my mouth' he whispered with a faltering voice, taking in all of your scent through avid nostrils. ‘You always smell so good, so clean… I want to taste you…'

So tender he was, you'd forgotten what it felt like to be wished for, body and soul alike, yet his palms willingly showed you a striking contrast to the tenacious Arthur who'd barged in days ago, as if your skin was porcelain and he wouldn't want to break you. He uncovered your naked skin underneath the fluffy bathrobe and smoothly tasted the growing prickles with curious fingertips, lowering himself towards your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace that would soon have you beg.

Pulling you to the edge of the couch where he’d slid himself, he finally broke the jarring tension of his eye contact just to move his head lower, descending decisively. The instant his curious lips parted, a shiver jolted through your flesh and your heart leapt into a marathon, you let yourself fall into his mouth without any control. How beautiful he was, you reminded him over and over as your fingers slicked his damp hair back, curling it around his ears, uncovering his furrowed forehead and perfect chiseled jawline. The sight of him between your thighs was no stranger, but you’d only seen it from afar until now, deep within the corner of each of your fantasies. Such a kind soul he was, but that mouth a wretched devil… oh my…

For a second he looked as if he'd forgotten all his sorrows as he strolled his tongue over your petals, tasting your skin one inch at a time, gently exploring to test your every reaction to his laps, his eyes fascinated with each of your whimpers. The throbbing love button he'd unveiled, a curiosity he had to touch with his tongue to feel the pulsation, your purrs a source of the validation in an endless sea of self doubt. Taking his time, curiously exploring this newfound medication for his sorrowful blues, he quickly grew hungry and greedy as an addict for a stronger fix, yet somewhat cautious to not overdose. His dilated basil eyes etched onto your contorted face, delighting in each tiny reaction he drew from you with his mouth, yet the catalyst to set you fully ablaze were his own moans as he enjoyed himself enjoying you. Oh God, what is he doing to me, I never want him to stop…

You’d thought you'd be the one comforting him, but it seemed as if he was doing it for both of you. His eyes moved around maniacally, taking in the shape of your naked breasts, of your nipples hardened at the thunderous air in the room, your moans guiding him into a delicate rhythm that could make you climb walls, even with the clumsiness that came with tasting a new person. He couldn't be a novice, although his curiosity was striking and enticing. Regardless of all that sorrow he'd brought with him, he curled a satisfied smirk under his scar and an impertinent twitch of his eyebrow sent you into a frenzy. His jades dilated at seeing your lips bitten, your eyebrows furrowed, close to crying in ecstasy, unable to move at the pleasure he gave and gave some more.

The mercury in your thermometer jumped at knot speed towards one big show of fireworks whose fuse got consumed by his kindling flame at a slow pace. Thoughts of his recent killing spree rushed through your mind, yet you were as high as a kite. You didn't care. So you let them ooze out to leave a hazy emptiness behind to be filled with all this spectacle of indulgence.

The pleas were whimpering whispers as you arched and etched your fingers in his smooth cocoa hair to anchor him, the other palm clenching a poor throw pillow to deformation. You hips guided by the rhythm of his palms on your waist, your moans deepening as he'd made you move onto his face, using it as a fine tuned instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of both your pleasure. Now that all your 8000 sensory nerve endings could light Gotham for Christmas if visible, his tongue flickered around your pearl, feeling the climax building up towards that overwhelming rapture. Moans turned to shrieks, toes and fingers clenched in reflex, his eyes and mouth on you as he winked from under long dark eyelashes. You combusted so powerfully into his mouth, within a few blissful seconds you'd left him glistening in traces of yourself.

Only as you quivered your last drop of pleasure in his mouth did you realize why he'd needed this so badly, he craved the validation of being a man even if his identity in shatters. It was one thing to have no identity, but another to not even be a man. Pleasuring you was one damn win that would hold his feet on the ground if he did it right, and that he could control. He had been scrutinizing you as you gasped for air, your eyebrows furrowed almost painfully, your flushed delicate muscles still throbbing under his tongue.

‘Oh, Arthur, that was… amazing…’

Still lingering his lips onto your inner thighs, he kissed tenderly as your flesh still twitched. You wanted him even more now than you did before. But tonight should be about him, even if he'd taken the lead so gracefully, so skillfully, so deliciously.

‘Yeah…’ the shyest smile draped across his tinted face, 'I felt that, kitten. I've… never really done this before…’ You'd known, deep down, and yet hearing him say the words was the most tender of piano nocturnes to your ears, so you latched at his mouth to taste him through your flavor, one that if you could bottle up, it would drive mankind rabid into destructive adoration.

Come here, Arthur, you whispered as you pulled him next to you, the puzzlement over his arching eyebrows an absolute delight you'd dreamt of relentlessly. He didn't fight it, yet the stiffness in his bones betrayed an urge he'd palmed away many nights without resolution, anxiety creeping over him at the realization it was now staring him in the face.

‘Wh… what are you doing?’, you shushed him as a response.

‘Kitten, please, don't feel like you need to give me anything back…’

‘Who said anything about giving back? I'm taking this for myself, Arthur. Let go, baby, let me take care of you'

‘Kitten… ohh' his eyes went straight to the back of his head, heavy eyelids covering his jades, his lips parted as your fingers traced the bulge straining his pants to suffocation. ‘Ok…’ he exhaled anxiously, a timidly bouncing knee betraying the rush of emotion flowing through him as you dragged his clothes over his head, his pants crowning the floor within a few seconds, leaving him naked to your hungry gazes.

The flickering light of the candles reflected over his protruding ribs as if a part of his body had caved in under the weight of his shoulders, his palms on your face strolling and tasting the reality of your flesh, he must have thought you were a side effect of his medication. Yet the prickling shivers traversing his body as you trailed your fingers over it were not. You reached for his lips as you lay him across the couch, your breasts invading his chest, the warmth of your body soothing his anxious trembling. That defeated look on his face, so vulnerable he'd made himself to you, he had nothing to give yet you still wanted him. He was mystified with even the remote possibility, let alone you giving him that adoration he'd chased endlessly, but never caught.

‘You are so beautiful, Arthur, let me show you, please…’ He was your paradise lost in the depravity of Gotham, a villain in itself, weighing down on each of its residents and having chosen Arthur to crush mercilessly under its own lack of a well defined identity, ready to teach us all lessons in humility that could lead to desperation.

He nodded shyly, his jades coated with an acute layer of yearning over something he'd never been given before. His body was a withered Stradivarius, abandoned in the corner of a cold, damp world, subjected to years of weathering and painful lack of any care, no wonder he was so feeble in between your fingers. But his strings were steel, and steel doesn't weather. It would naturally respond to external factors just like anything else but no amount of forcing, pushing, suppressing would bring out the brilliant austere sound it was designed to bring. Had he been less frail, you'd relate him to a cello, one that needs to be held tight to one's chest before playing it, where its resonating chamber rests upon the artist's heart as she moves the bow on the saddest of instruments. Yet he was so fragile, the wails of his chords almost bringing you to tears as you ghosted over them, testing what amount of pressure would bring the vibration, how to explore the potential of the sound and bring it closer to perfection. You were there to give him all that, to polish all the dust away, his wrinkles, his chiseled edges, to practice on his strings and validate his worth until he felt himself a Stradivarius for the first time in his life. He'd been blessed with a beautiful instrument that could bring such intense sensory bliss if only he'd find the right hands, and you longed to play him through the night, to tear your fingers into his chords and to sing his melancholy away.

What a trembling mess he'd become as soon as your lips strolled down his neck, the smell of rain and cigarettes off his skin intoxicating you into indelible addiction. The farthest you went, the more you saw how little he expected that you'd turn your full attention to him, as if never daring to expect anything other than what you'd allow him to take. You kissed your way down from his chest, palms exploring and fondling every bony texture, every inch of soft skin until reaching an extremity that felt to your fingertips as both together. Trembling, he slicked back his hair and sunk deeper into the couch, scrutinizing your face in detail and feeding you those micro expressions of Arthur and Carnival together, the twitch in his eyebrow a give away that you'd be playing for an audience of two tonight.

So immersed in the overflow of sensation he was as you took him into your mouth, his only verbal response a muffled ‘F-fuck, kitten', but his whole body screamed a different story of twitches at the touch of your tongue and lips. How demure the sounds he made as he shivered over and over, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth half open, heavy breaths raising his chest, quivering lips alternating silent approvals or four letter curses, as if careful to not be caught. So painfully expressive, all you wanted was to see him melt under your touches like silver over a burning flame without a hurry in the world, your tongue tracing a tale more evocative than any words could ever express.

With each stroke of your lips, he let go to all but that intense pleasure, as if your mouth held the power to oust the very fabric of reality, offering him an escape into a wonderland he'd been denied entrance all his life. He wants to be wanted, needs to he needed, lusts to be lusted for, his quivering lips more than enough validation for that thought. As you felt his muscles unwind, his fingers tremoring, his breath traversing his trembling body, you'd made him float in an isolation tank of indulgence. When you stopped, his voice would growl and whimper in reflex, the purring sounds begging for more. Some would call it schadenfreude, you called it your tiny overdose in hearing him say 'please' as you teased and inflamed him. His taste in your mouth, his smooth texture, his delicate skin, you wanted nothing more than to lock that door and trap him in this perpetual state of bliss. For eternity wouldn't be enough to put together all his broken pieces, but it would be a start.

The meekness in his jade eyes was wrenching, yet as he looked into yours, you quickly understood why. You couldn't hear his silent whispers, yet you knew he was begging for more as the throb in your mouth intensified and his whimpering green eyes slid to the back of his head, his palms clenching the couch so forcefully he could tear into it. It mattered no less as you felt him completely let go throb after throb, his body convulsing in spasms, the taste of him ambrosia hidden from all other mortals.

His head sunk deep in the couch pillow, his arms and body heavy and immobile, breath ragged, he giggled for the first time that day, a laugh so genuine it felt foreign to both of you, a rattled stranger you both wanted to welcome in and nurture back to his feet. As he lay sprawled on your couch, naked and ecstatic, you wished he was happy, for once. You needed a minute to freshen up, and as you returned to shut the windows and lay a blanket over him, he'd almost dozed off from exhaustion.

You sunk next to him as slick as a cat, laying him onto your chest and fondling your fingers in his damp cocoa hair, his limbs latching at you rendering you almost breathless with the radiating warmth of his body.

‘Kitten, I… I don't know how to thank you…’, he whispered in the nook of your neck, asleep had his flesh not sweetly twitched him back to a half awake state. ‘I've been off my medication for a few days, but I might have found an endless supply of pure morphine…’. His body had finally rested its convulsion, his limbs falling heavier, his breath slower, within a few seconds of his thought his eyes already moved spastically under heavy eyelids.

He was right, he'd found pure morphine, and so had you. It would consume you both, but him in your arms was that feeling humanity had sought since its birth. A once in a lifetime adventure they'd write sonnets about in the past, one that was yours to experience and live through with Arthur. That morphine had just kicked in for both, and you were floating on a cloud high above the thunder slowly roaring away in the night.

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

Thank you for reading this far! ❤

A special thanks to a few of the lovely people in this community that inspires me to keep putting my odes to Arthur on paper:

@wuika @iartsometimes @impulsiveclown @arthurflecc @littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @jokersdoll @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 jokerlicious @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @jaraysha1121 @jofic059 @shit-i-love-clowns

#joaquin phoenix joker #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck #joaquin phoenix #joker #joker fanfic #joker x reader #joker x you

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andie-cake · 3 years

Note

i cannot think of anything good i apologise but perhaps just emma and anya Hanging Out?

Right so this made me remember a joke I've been wanting to post about Anya being Omega from the Sonic 06 real-time fandub, so this is going to be very stupid. Also, I've never smoked A Weed before, so this might be Completely Incorrect.

It had been a rather long day, for both Emma and Anya. On top of dealing with shitty customers all day, Hidgens had nearly set the lecture hall on fire during a rather... ambitious demonstration. And Anya? Well, she just had nothing to do today. Staying in Emma's apartment all alone wasn't particularly exciting. Though considering Emma's air of irritation when she arrived home, Anya decided it was probably best she didn't complain about her boredom.

The two hadn't made much conversation once Emma had returned home. Emma had simply thrown two Ramen cups in the microwave for the two roommates to feast on, turned on her laptop, and let Netflix play in the background while she poured over her college textbooks.

It wasn't until Emma had finished studying and lit up a very strange looking cigarette that Anya said anything of note.

"What's that?" she asked as Emma blew a puff of smoke from her mouth.

"Huh?" Emma huffed out as she looked to Anya, who simply gestured towards the lit bundle between her fingers. "Oh, this? It's a joint."

"A joint?" Anya echoed, unenlightened.

"Y'know," Emma said, waving the 'joint' around and sending trails of smoke flying through the apartment. "Like for weed?"

At Anya's befuddled silence, Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Anya, do you not know what weed is?" she asked.

"I know what weeds are," Anya replied incredulously. "Are you smoking dandelions or some shit?"

Emma snorted before taking another puff of the joint. "No, it's not dandelions," she snickered, amused. "It's just something you smoke to take the edge off, y'know? Like cigarettes, but with more... flavor, I guess?"

"I guess that makes sense..." Anya muttered, standing up to go open a window, and possibly turn the ceiling fan on. If Emma was gonna be blowing smoke everywhere, then they had to get some fresh air in the place.

When Anya sat back down on the couch, Emma held the joint out for her. "You wanna take a hit?" she asked.

Anya eyed the smoking stick suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, if you don't wanna try it, I'm not gonna force you," Emma said with a shrug. "I just figured I'd let you give it a try."

After a moment of careful deliberation, Anya gave a shrug of her own. "Ah, what the hell?" she decided, taking the joint from Emma's hand. "I'll give it a shot."

"Alright, Anya!" Emma exclaimed, enthused. "Just a heads-up, the feeling takes a bit of getting used to, it might hurt a bit at first. Oh! And don't inhale too fa-"

Before Emma could finish giving her expert advice, Anya took a rather aggressive hit from the blunt. Emma shot up, expecting her double to go into an equally aggressive coughing fit. But instead, Anya simply exhaled the smoke from her mouth with a spaced out expression. She didn't say anything. Emma eyed her identical roommate with concern.

"Anya?" she piped up. "You okay, pal?"

It was at that moment that Anya's eyes suddenly widened. "Holy shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

Anya continued to hold the syllable, her voice completely monotone. A disbelieving grin spread across Emma's face.

"What the fuck?" she asked in bemusement.

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

"Keep holding it, keep holding it!" Emma egged her double on, busting out into delighted laughter when she did, in fact, keep holding it. "Yes! Yes!"

"-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit," Anya finally finished, causing her roommate to double over with hysterical laughter, no pun intended. She looked over at Emma, and tilted her head to the side in bafflement at the sight of her pretend sister lying back on the futon as she howled with laughter. "What's so funny?"

"I have never, in my entire life, seen somebody react to weed like that!" Emma cackled, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying and failing to compose herself. "Oh my god, I wish I'd been recording that!"

"Recording what?"

"I-it's nothing," Emma stammered out, still giggling despite her clear attempts to stop laughing. She took a deep breath, finally managing to calm herself down. "You can keep the joint, pal, you've earned it."

"Oh! Okay!" Anya complied with a very 'surprised, but not complaining' look on her face. She looked back down at the joint between her fingers with a curious glint in her eyes. "But seriously, what did I do?"

"Hopefully something that'll happen again..." Emma murmured in reply, subtly readying her phone's camera in hopes of capturing another one of her roommate's... unique responses to weed.

#factory reset fic

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oliviaischillin1204 · 4 years

Text

i can’t hear you

Pairings: Platonic Analogical

Word Count: 1,994 words

i had my first training course for my new job today and i spent about an hour writing this wip in my head instead. anyways smash that mf like button

also maybe warning for more intense tickles toward the end? i don’t really think it’s that bad tbh but if you have super ticklish feet u may wanna proceed w caution

It was a game they played. Logan knew that. He knew all of the signs: Virgil coming into his room late at night, his headphones casually slung around his neck. He’d sit on the end of Logan’s bed awhile, looking around the organized yet cluttered room. Logan would acknowledge his presence, but would keep his attention on whatever book he was reading that night. The room would fall silent, and then Virgil-- amazing Virgil, evil Virgil-- would put on his headphones.

That was how the game always started. Logan knew that. But it still didn’t make the fluttering feeling in his stomach go away.

He huffed a sigh, a small smile already curling on his lips. Virgil didn’t respond or even react: his attention was (allegedly) completely on his phone as he scrolled through his Spotify. Logan watched him in anticipation for a few seconds before slowly marking his page and setting the book on his bedside table, folding his hands in his lap.

As soon as he did that-- as if Virgil has been waiting for him-- the anxious side made a satisfied noise as he selected a playlist. He tapped play and set his phone to the side, and spent the next minute or so merely bopping his head to the music. His fingers would tap little rhythms on his thighs, then on the mattress, then on the top of Logan’s ankles. It was just enough to make the logical side squirm, watching the gradual movements with a building wariness.

Without warning, Virgil wrapped an arm around both of Logan’s ankles, hiking them up so he could hold them between his arm and his torso. The sudden motion yanked Logan down the bed.

“Oh goodness--!”

The exclamation slipped out before Logan could stop it, and he’s sure Virgil would be laughing at him if he heard it. Luckily for Logan, there was no way Virgil could hear him over the music in his headphones; it was so loud, Logan could hear its tinny sound in the otherwise silent room.

Well. Relatively silent. Because as soon as Virgil got Logan’s legs firmly trapped under his arm, his nails began dancing against the balls of his feet, and Logan fell into startled giggles.

“Nohoho,” he mumbled through his laughter, dropping his face into his hands. His feet twitched involuntarily, but other than that he made no move to pull away from Virgil’s tickling fingers. That was how the game went.

Virgil slowly slid his fingers down Logan’s soles until they were toying at his arches, easily reaching both feet at once with his one free hand. He glided his nails down the wrinkles and lines of Logan’s feet, causing him to curl his toes with a strangled whimper.

“Please,” Logan started to beg before stopping himself. One of the worst (read: best) parts of the game for him was the total silence his reactions were met with. Virgil was blissfully unaware of the noises Logan made when they played this game. But Logan knew. Every squeak, squeal, titter, and giggle that escaped his lips seemed to echo around his room before being thrown right back into his face. It wasn’t that he wasn’t ashamed of his laughter; it was really just the knowledge that Virgil was completely taking him apart without even listening to his pleas for mercy, leaving him to fall into helpless laughter in isolation, that Logan found so utterly embarrassing. And so utterly delightful.

Meanwhile, Virgil seemingly decided that he’d paid enough attention to Logan’s arches, because his fingers suddenly switched positions, choosing instead to scritch-scratch right against Logan’s heels. Logan yelped at the unexpected change, and to his distress a stray snort or two began escaping in his laughter. He hid his face in his hands again, somewhat grateful that Virgil hadn’t heard those particular noises. The taunting that would’ve resulted from them would almost be unbearable.

Virgil began humming along with his music, some nonsense tune that Logan couldn’t identify when he was so throughly distracted, but in his hypersensitive state the wordless melody began to sound like a tease itself, the rise and fall of Virgil’s voice as his fingers expertly circled and skittered all over his heels causing even more butterflies to flutter around in Logan’s stomach.

He wasn’t expecting for Virgil to suddenly jab his thumb into the middle of his sole, throughly massaging the sensitive spot while his other four fingers still managed to mercilessly attack his heels. Logan gasped, snorted, and broke into louder laughter in rapid succession, and his arms wrapped around his torso as he upgraded from giggles to full on cackles.

Virgil went back and forth for a while, choosing seemingly random (yet completely evil) spots to torture with harder tickles while the surrounding skin got gentle, teasy tickles. Logan took deep breaths to avoid getting the hiccups (like last time-- Virgil had laughed himself to tears when Logan couldn’t stop even after the game was finished), but all he succeeded in was making his laughter louder and louder.

Then Virgil abruptly stopped the hard tickles. Logan, foolishly, felt grateful for about half a second, until he felt Virgil begin to spider his nails back up his soles. Towards the balls of his feet. Towards--

“Ah-hahahahaha! Virgihihil!”

The words came out traitorously high pitched, almost a squeal, and he felt his face flush hot at the sound of his panicked voice against the soft quiet of his bedroom.

To his surprise, Virgil froze for a moment, his fingers resting right underneath Logan’s deathspot. Logan watched his back in a mix of confusion and sheepishness-- he didn’t want the game to end already, but he certainly didn’t want to say that.

Virgil didn’t turn around, though, and he didn’t let go of Logan’s feet. Instead, Logan watched with a growing nervousness as Virgil’s free arm moved to the side, picked up his phone, and quickly hit the volume button several times. The barely-audible music from his headphones grew louder, and he dropped the phone back on the bed with a satisfied nod before turning all of his attention back to Logan’s feet.

Logan blanched, especially when Virgil’s fingers started moving again, skittering back and forth across the balls of his feet, but with a greater intention. Like he was purposefully building up to something. Logan’s stomach swooped.

“Virgihihil--”

No response.

“Virgil, wahahahahait!”

Nothing. In fact, Logan thought Virgil might’ve picked up the pace, darting from spot to spot and giving little pinches to the soft skin. Each touch had Logan jumping, shocked noises escaping among his growing giggles.

“No, nohoho-- not there! Wait--!”

Virgil didn’t wait. His fingers shot down to spider at his arches once more, before they began slowly making their way up, up, up.

“Vihi-- Virgil, Virgil, noho--”

Logan was red faced and teary eyed and grinning so wide he felt like his face would split. And Virgil wasn’t stopping.

“No!”

But Virgil did not hear him, and finally, his fingers dove in to scratch and squeeze and tickle in between every single one of Logan’s ticklish, helpless toes.

Logan bucked and screamed, his hands tangling in his bedsheets as he finally fought to pull his legs back. His head kept alternating between falling back to his headboard and falling forward as he curled in on himself, but neither position gained him any relief. He just had to sit there, feet utterly trapped and pleas completely ignored, as Virgil tickled underneath all ten of his ticklish little toes.

He tried to look for a pattern, anything that would lessen the horrible unpredictability of the tortorous sensations, but Virgil didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to his tickles. A pinch at his pinky toe, then his nails would spider across all of his toe pads before coming to rest at the middle toe of his other foot, scratching up and down the stem before poking his way back to the other side. All of his toe tickles were interspersed with quick, random tickles to the balls of Logan’s feet, keeping him frantically guessing when the tickles would switch between very bad to even worse.

To say Logan was loosing his composure was an understatement. He wheezed with laughter when the nail of Virgil’s index finger throughly attacked the spot right underneath his big toe, or when his thumb suddenly corkscrewed in between his pinky and ring toes. He bounced on the bed, his hands desperately clawing at the bed sheets and at the hem of his shirt and at his hair, anything to distract himself from the awful ticklish torture he was suffering on his feet.

At one point Virgil hit a certain spot on the ball of his foot, and Logan cried out in ticklish ecstasy, yanking his foot back as hard as he could. It went nowhere, of course, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Because Virgil, to Logan’s horror, suddenly grabbed both of his big toes, pulling them back and stretching out his entire foot.

Logan gasped. He gave an experimental wiggle, only to find that he could not only not move his feet, but he could no longer curl any of his toes at all. Their precious, sensitive undersides were exposed to the entire world-- and more importantly, to Virgil.

The next second felt like it happened in slow motion: Logan’s eyes darted from his feet to Virgil’s index finger, which wiggled menancingly in the air inches from hit feet. He screamed wordlessly, desperate babbles as he continued to yank against Virgil’s hold, but in the end, there was absolutely nothing he could do to keep Virgil from tickling that one spot, right at the bottom of the space between Logan’s first and second toe, scratching his nail with a nightmarish precision at Logan’s absolute death spot.

It was game over.

Logan shrieked, a sharp, piercing sound that he would absolutely go to his grave before admitting he made. He launched forward, clutching the back of Virgil’s hoodie and yanking on it for dear life.

“Stohoh-- stohohop--!”

Virgil let go of his legs before the word was even fully out of his mouth. He scooted to the side, watching over his shoulder as Logan immediately pulled his knees up to his chest, covering his toes as soon as his hands could reach them.

Virgil caught Logan’s gaze, still gasping and laughing with residual tickles, and let a small smile creep onto his own face. He reached to his phone and stopped the music, pulling the headphones off to rest around his neck again.

“Oh, Logan, were you back there the whole time?” he asked innocently. “Sorry, I was distracted. Music, you know.”

Logan huffed, flustered and frazzled, his legs still pulled defensively against his chest.

“Distracted,” he spat, but the wobbly smile on his blushing face took any poison out of the words. “Of course.”

Virgil gave him a more genuine smile now, summoning a bottle of water and passing it up the bed to the exhausted side. He grabbed his phone and shifted himself backwards until he was sitting next to Logan at the head of his bed. As Logan caught his breath, he unplugged his large headphones and swapped them for a pair of sleek, black earbuds.

“I found this creepy-ass true crime book,” he said casually, eyes on his phone once again as he scrolled through his library. He popped one earbud into his ear before wordlessly offering the other to Logan.

Logan eyed it for less than a second before he laughed lightly, shaking his head in wonder.

“Sounds very interesting,” he replied, taking the other and putting it in his ear. As the two leaned back to listen to the book, he let his eyes slip closed. All in all, even though it was flustering and embarrassing and overall torturous, Logan could never hate this game that he and Virgil play-- especially when it always manages to end like this.

#my posts #my writing #tickling #tickle fic #tickle community #ler!virgil #lee!logan #i can't hear you #sanders sides tickling #i did this in maybe uhhh 3-4 hours? idk that should give y'all an estimate of how fast i can work when i have no other distractions #ok actually it's prob more like 4-5 lmaoo i forgot i was watching youtube for a while #as always roast my typos

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human-trash-fire · 4 years

Text

STTH Ch. 3

Alright you beautiful humans. Here’s chapter 3! I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Thank you all so much for your support, I love writing this fic and I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it! Big things are coming soon <3

Also available on Ao3: glam_reaper2

*********************************************************************

Rowan:

It was two days after Fenrys had showed them the video and, as expected, he hadn’t stopped talking about Aelin. At least the laundry is getting done, Rowan thought to himself, although he wished Fen could have stayed true to the rest of his promise. They had been on assignment since that morning, away from any ability to contact the civilian world. Command had sent them to some backwater township to observe and report on the movements of a major player in the east. Two days of rotating observation, meals from plastic bags, and Fenrys complaining about how “if she reached out while (he) was away from his phone, she might think (he) wasn’t serious.”

Finally, Rowan thought, around 2300 there was movement in the compound like structure on the edge of the town. A truck rolled to a dusty stop just outside the gate and three men with guns piled out, flanking a fourth figure. He narrowed his scope in slightly to get a better view and whispered to his spotter, “Are you seeing this?”

“No way…” Fenrys muttered, halfway between shock and anger.

“Call it in. NOW.”

“Hellas Actual, this is white wolf. Eyes on the compound, we have movement. Target unconfirmed but we have a bigger problem. Over.”

“White wolf, what’s the problem? Over.” Loracan’s voice came through the coms in their ears.

“Eyes on Maeve. Over.”

“White wolf, can you repeat. Over.”

“I said it’s fucking Maeve, OVER.”

They were met with silence. The woman currently locked in Rowan’s scope was none other than Maeve, the illegal weapons queenpin. She was responsible for supplying the means to carry out a number of attacks from Terassen to Doranelle, and she had the blood of hundreds on her hands. He had no idea what she was doing this far east, but whatever it was couldn’t be good. She moved towards the gate and both Rowan and Fenrys knew his window to make the shot was closing.

“Hellas Actual, this is White Wolf. Requesting permission to fire, over.”

“Damn it Salvaterre,” Rowan growled.

“Hellas Actual, this is Whit-”

“White Wolf this is Hellas Actual. Stand down, I repeat stand down. Over.”

“What the fuck. Over.” Fenrys spat into the mic. Rowan’s palms had begun to sweat around his rifle, but he had yet to blink. It took all his years of training to keep his finger from pulling the trigger, he wished he could scream. This woman ruined his life, she had ruined hundreds of lives. She deserved this. He needed this. He-

Lorcan’s voice in his ear derailed the thought, “Hold fire. Continue observation and return to base at 0130. Over and out.”

*********************************************************

They had returned to the safe-house and were immediately greeted by Gavriel’s look of sympathy, arms outstretched in a placating manner.

“Where. The fuck. Is he.” Rowan’s voice was cold, and while phrased like one Gavriel knew it wasn’t a question.

“In the back room,” he pointed and stepped out of his way.

He slammed open the door to the backroom turned makeshift office and had Lorcan by the throat before he could even get a word out. “Why the fuck did you give the order?!” spit flew from his mouth onto the tanned face of the man he now held. He knew this was insubordination and any other commander would have thrown him in jail, but Lorcan simply glared.

“It. wasn’t. My. call,” he ground out, and Rowan loosed his grip around the man’s neck.

“I fucking had her Lorcan. I had her, right there. After all this time, after everything, she was right in my fucking scope and they tell me to ‘stand down’?”

Lorcan was clearly angry with him but Rowan couldn’t find it in his heart to care. He stepped back, and began to breathe too quickly. “Just tell me why?” the words came out in a broken whisper and his eyes fell to the ground.

“She is planning something, and command wants to know what it is. She hasn’t been seen this far east and if she is here pieces are moving. We need more intel.”

Rowan ran a hand over his face and attempted to steady himself. “Lorcan, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t. We all know what that shot meant to you, so I’m willing to forget this momentary lapse in judgement. But, don’t you ever cross a fucking line like this again Whitethorn or I’ll have your ass in the brigg faster than you can blink.”

Rowan nodded, turned on his heel, and stalked from the room in search of solitude.

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

>> Aelin

<< who she is talking too

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

Aelin

Aelin >> Hey handsome! Thank you again for the invite, we’re all so excited. I’m sure you’re busy saving the day, but when you have a chance, I have a few questions.

It had been 4 days since Aelin had sent that DM to Fenrys. She spent an embarrassingly long amount of time crafting the message and, after confirming with her best friends, she finally pressed send… Then she waited. She hated to admit that it was driving her crazy. Used to people scrambling to do what she needed as quickly as possible, (she wasn’t entitled, she was famous and people just acted that way around her), waiting on a simple DM was an irritating new experience.

Sweat was pouring between her shoulder blades and coating her brow, Aelin slowed to a walk two streets away from her apartment. “My time” is what she called her morning ritual. 1 hour runs, permanently blocked on her schedule, where she could organize her thoughts and get a much needed endorphin boost before the day truly began. Her airpods made a pinging noise which brought her attention down to her phone sitting in a cleverly sewn pocket on her thigh.

<< Hello gorgeous! I’m SO sorry I haven’t been able to respond until now, we were on mission (no phones). I’m here now though, and I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you (;

Aelin couldn’t help the small smile playing across her lips.

>> Me? Never. I’m downright irresistible and we both know it (;

>> For real though, I’m glad to hear from you! I hope all is well!

<< It’s great now that we’re finally out of the heat, and I’m talking to my dream girl. You mentioned you had questions?

>> Yeah! I need details for the event, time/ place/ etc so I can get to planning, and shopping. In addition can I get the names of your Cadre and any info you have about their (and your) likes/ dislikes so the girls and I can send you each a little personalized something as a thank you?

And so the conversation continued, fun facts about him and his friends, anecdotes about their time in the east, and non-stop flirtation. Aelin had been smiling at her phone so much that she thought her face might be stuck that way. Fenrys was charming, and hilarious. She found herself telling him so much about her own life, fun stories from set, all about her cousin and his team. Aedion is the QB for the Orynth Bane and apparently the entire cadre were monumental fans. She decided then on at least one piece of the care packages she’d be sending.

Before she fell asleep Aelin shot a text to the group chat.

>> Coffee and care package shopping for the cadre tomorrow, you in??

>> I’ll also order in whatever y’all want for dinner so we can wrap them up

El << Oh I’m so down, I have something special planned for Mr. Delicious(;

Lys << Count me in, I’ll bring the wine <3

Chuckling softly, sleep washed over her, that night she dreamt of blonde hair, muscles, and a face that could bring a queen to her knees.

*******************

3 empty bottles of wine sat perched precariously on the edge of Aelin’s coffee table, the rim of the fourth was currently resting on her lips. The completed and nearly overflowing care packages for each of the 6 members of Fenrys’ cadre sat near the door to her apartment ready to ship in the morning. Lysandra was lying across her black leather couch, hands holding her phone above her face (even though she had dropped it onto her nose already twice in the last hour). Her legs were draped across Aelin’s lap. Elide was on the floor at her feet, half bundled in a white fur blanket she’d stolen from one of the large leather chairs in the room, leaning her head back against Aelin’s legs.

“What are you doing? You look like you’re having an eye-gasm,” Elide giggled looking up at Aelin.

“I might be, look at this” she turned her phone around to show her friend’s, and Lysandra sat up to get a better view. Instagram was open and on the screen was a picture of Fenrys, shirtless with a bandanna holding back his long locks. He was running, football tucked into his generous biceps, the other men in the picture in various states of trying to tackle him.

“Dear Gods….” Lysandra breathed.

“Mmm..”

“Have you looked at the other’s instas yet?” Elide asked, attempting nonchalance while crawling up the arm of the couch to perch next to Aelin.

“Indeed,” she smirked. “The answer to your next question is ‘hellas_actual’ El. You’re welcome!”

Elide began furiously typing into the search bar on her own phone, “I’m going to fucking destroy him” she purred when she had located the account in question. Head cocked slightly to the side, tongue running along her top teeth she pressed the follow button and immediately started creeping through the entire profile.

“Girl, he looks like he could break you in half” Lys cackled, “You’d be into that though, wouldn’t you?” her eyebrows waggled. Aelin snorted wine through her nose.

“And? If we’re about to start discussing kinks Lys, why don’t we start with your little 50 yard line fantas-” a pillow to the face interrupted her sentence and Aelin made a noise halfway between a gag and a screech.

“GROSSSSSSSSSS!” She practically screamed, she knew about her best friend’s dream of fucking her cousin on the Bane football field, but she really didn’t want to picture it... Again… there wasn’t enough wine in the world.

“Oh shut it A, you’re one to talk,” Lys shoved her shoulder. “Anyways, have you looked at the others’?”

“Not yet, hang on.” Aelin went to a group photo of the cadre, tapping once to see the tags she looked up. “Where should we begin? El’s got that Lorcan guy covered, so you pick Lys: Brunette, blonde, sable, or silver?”

“I wanna see the blonde, he kinda reminds me of Aedion but with less issues.”

And so the three girls trolled through each instagram. Gavriel was handsome, his page was littered with group photos of the cadre all over the world. It appeared Fenrys’ twin Connall and the other dark haired man, Vaughn, were in a relationship. Their pictures were nearly all the same. Kisses, guns, fantastic suits, like himbro meets a GQ cover shoot. They were the most handsome couple Aelin had ever seen, all effortless swagger and an intimacy that radiated off the pictures. The last page they found themselves on was Rowan’s.

Aelin would be lying if she didn’t admit her breath caught again the minute she saw his picture. Her thumb hovered over the follow button for only a moment before she clicked it. He only had a few pictures, 3 group shots in uniform, holding weapons and flying a Terrassen flag over their shoulders from different places in the world. A few blurry pictures of different beers, and a blurry selfie or two. Then there was one of him laughing. It was most likely a candid, but with the grace of a staged photo. He looks like a model, Aelin mused. He was in a stone grey suit, white dress shirt unbuttoned a little too far, beer in hand as he leaned into Gavriel. His smile was like the sun. His insanely green eyes were crinkled around the edges, white teeth shining, his silver hair glowing in the light of the flash. She felt her own smile on her lips, and try as she might she couldn’t shake it.

“Wow,” she said softly. She hadn’t actually meant to say it out-loud, but it just slipped.

“Wow is right, you haven’t stopped smiling since you opened his profile. I haven’t seen you look this dopey since you saw Fleetfoot’s first picture.” She looked up, smile falling and eyebrows drawing together incredulously at Lysandra’s knowing look.

“Oh shut up, he is just pretty. Fen says he’s got ‘a fuck ton of issues’. I’m just admiring the packaging.”

“Mhmm,” Elide murmured.

The night grew late and her girls eventually found their way to her guest rooms. As she lay alone in her bed, world spinning slightly, Aelin found herself reaching once more for her phone. What the fuck are you doing? She asked herself as her fingers moved almost of their own volition, pulling back up the picture of the smiling man in the grey suit. She stared at it, straight into the shining green eyes that seemed both sad and playful. If that sort of thing was even possible. Her thumb bumped the picture and a heart flashed in the middle of the screen.

“Oh no… ohnonononono” she gasped into the dark, the date on the picture was from 2 years ago. It was the furthest picture back in his profile and her drunk-ass had fucking liked it. I can’t unlike it, he’ll still get a fucking notification and, OH GODS this is embarrassing! She went back and forth in her head, contemplating whether or not to unlike the picture and pretend she had no idea what he was talking about if he ever brought it up. Or to just own it. In the end she left the stupid little heart red. I’m fucking famous, She thought. He would be so lucky. And I can blame the wine. He won’t bring it up. I’m overthinking this. Godsdammit.

She still felt guilty though, she had been talking to Fenrys non-stop since he reached out. He was her date, he was who asked her, so why couldn’t she stop looking at Rowan’s picture? At some point her internal tirade turned to sleep.

That night she dreamt of silver hair and sad green eyes, her phone clutched in her hand.

********************************************************************

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#stth au #tog fic #rowaelin fic #rowaelin #ao3fic

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zxanthe · 4 years

Text

dare

for @soulxmakaweek 2020, day 1!

also available on ao3 and ff.net

The desert night is cold, but a strange, heady warmth suffuses her veins and keeps it at bay. Her head swims pleasantly – she’s never had alcohol before, and she didn’t think she ever would, but she’s Maka Albarn and she doesn’t back down from a dare. The taste of artificial strawberries lingers on her tongue, acrid and too-sweet. She doesn’t get how anyone could actually like this stuff.

“Tsubaki,” says Liz, pulling Maka out of her reverie. “Truth or dare?”

The other girl bites her lip. “Dare,” she replies, in her soft melodious voice. Maka wishes distantly she had a voice like that.

“You always pick that one,” Liz scoffs. “All right, why don’t you…take two shots and then do twenty pull-ups.”

“Laaaame,” says Black Star from his position on the floor, and then burps loudly.

“Excuse you,” says Maka, at the same time that Patty bursts into giggles and then matches him with a burp of her own.

“Patricia,” says Kid reprovingly.

“Scuuuuze me,” she chirps, and then bumps Black Star’s upside-down fist.

“Could I maybe, um…not take the shots?” Tsubaki asks, a note of hope in her voice.

“A dare’s a dare.” Liz shrugs, not looking up from her examination of her cuticles.

“It would ruin the sanctity of the game,” Kid adds helpfully.

Tsubaki sighs.

“Hey, that’s not a shot,” says Black Star. “C’mon, Tsu, do it right.”

Tsubaki takes two deliberate mouthfuls. Afterwards she coughs and grimaces before striding towards a low-hanging sign and pulling herself up over and over, braids swinging.

“Can you do that many pullups?” Maka asks, turning to look at her weapon partner. He sits slouched on the lip of the wall beside her, staring out over the desert.

He turns at the sound of her voice. “Huh?”

She gestures with her chin towards Tsu, whose breathing has started to become a little labored. “That many pullups. Can you do them?”

Soul sits up a little straighter. “Sure. Yeah.”

“All right,” says Tsubaki. Her forehead gleams with sweat. “Twenty.” She strides back towards the group and folds, a little shakily, into a sitting position on Maka’s other side.

“That drink is disgusting,” she murmurs fervently. Maka reaches out and pats her sympathetically on one trembling shoulder.

“Your turn, sis,” says Liz, and elbows Patty gently. “Who d’you wanna pick?”

Patty taps a finger on her chin in thought, her wide blue eyes roaming around the group. They settle on Soul, and a positively evil grin distorts her features. Maka barely suppresses a shudder.

“Soul!” Patty sings out. “Truth or dare?”

Soul squints suspiciously. “…Dare,” he says, after a few moments’ hesitation.

Patty claps her hands in delight. Wrong answer. Soul shifts uncomfortably.

“I dare youuu,” Patty says, “to kiss Maka.”

The group’s focus sharpens. Heads turn, eyes darting from Patty to Soul and back again, with furtive looks at Maka. She can feel her face heating up a little at the attention. Soul’s eyes go wide and he proceeds to choke on his own spit. Maka pounds him hard on the back.

“What?” he asks, when he recovers. “That’s a stupid dare. Why would you ask me to do that?”

“You can take a drink first if you need to,” says Patty innocently.

Maka glares. “Hey, I’m not that ugly.”

“You don’t have – “ Tsubaki begins, at the same time that Kid starts speaking. “Patricia, that dare is hardly appropriate – “

Patty shooshes them both with waves of her hands. Her eyes dart between Soul and Maka. Soul’s cheeks have turned light pink. Not such a cool guy after all, huh. Maka smirks a little.

“What are you,” says Patty, looking Soul dead in the eye. “Chicken?”

Soul swallows visibly. At that, Patty starts clucking.

Star cackles, sitting up enough that he can make eye contact with Soul. “Oh my God. Oh my God, is this your first kiss? And with Maka? Dude. Duuuude.”

“Shut the hell up,” snaps Soul, and he’s definitely red. “Like you’ve ever kissed anyone, dumbass.”

“That’s so sweet,” says Liz, putting a hand to her chest. “So precious.”

“Stop these ridiculous noises at once,” Kid says, but his voice is drowned out because Black Star’s joined in, rooster-crowing with gusto. Maka rolls her eyes.

“Idiots,” she says, not bothering to hide her annoyance, and reaches over and grabs Soul’s chin to guide his lips to hers. He doesn’t protest. His eyes, usually so sleepy-looking, are wide open and very red, even in the dimness of the evening, and rimmed with girlishly long lashes the same color as his hair. His lips are chapped but warm.

Black Star and Patty are yelling enthusiastically. Someone wolf-whistles. “Mmkh,” says Soul, after only seven seconds, and tries to pull away. She buries her fingers in the soft, unstyled hairs at the nape of his neck and holds him in place with a frown. She’s going to make damn sure they win this dare. Soul puts his hands on her shoulders. “Mgnsn – WACHOO!”

Maka is left blinking, face covered in a fine spray of Soul’s spit. “Ew!” she cries, face flushing. Black Star and Patty are howling with laughter. Even Tsu’s cracking a smile, the traitor, though she at least has the decency to hide it behind her hand. Maka scrubs furiously at her face with the hem of her t-shirt.

“You stupid!” she snaps, rounding on Soul, on whose reddened face is writ some heinous combination of annoyance, embarrassment, and mild fear. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna sneeze?”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t let me! It’s your fault, you dumb bookworm!”

“How is your sneeze my fault?!”

“Just stop, you’re drunk.”

“Oh, I’ll show you drunk,” she hisses, and snatches the bottle and manages to chug two mouthfuls before coughing violently.

They stay out until the second bottle is finished, and then halfway through the third that Patty pulls from the cheerful beach bag heaped at her sandaled feet. Truth or dare turns to never have I ever turns to them looking up at the sky and trying to count all the stars before subsiding into lazy drunken conversation. Even Kid had some, though it seems to have no effect. Stupid Shinigami genes. It’s only when Black Star falls asleep leaning against Tsubaki’s legs that the girl in question gets somewhat unsteadily to her feet and announces that they really ought to go home.

“I agree,” says Maka, and stands up also. Big mistake. The world seems to tilt violently, and she feels like she’s gonna hurl. The taste of shitty strawberry flavoring is strong on her tongue, mingling unpleasantly with that of alcohol. She manages to keep it all down, for now.

“Woah,” says a voice, and then there are arms around her. Soul. What a good weapon, she thinks distantly. Always has my back. “You OK there?”

“M’fine,” she slurs. She tries to take a step, and wobbles dangerously.

They say their goodbyes – Maka manages a fairly coordinated wave, of which she feels rather proud – and go their separate ways. She makes it until they round the first bend the street takes before throwing up with gusto against the side of a building.

“Oh my God, I told you to take it easy,” Soul grouses, but he holds her hair back just the same. Maka heaves again. Wet noises against cobblestone bricks. Her body shakes. She holds her position, arms braced against the wall, forehead pushed into them, until her head stops spinning. She’s cold, she realizes distantly.

“For a bookworm, you sure are dumb sometimes,” Soul mutters, and a moment later something warm gets thrown over her shoulders. She straightens. The world rocks. She feels the jacket start to slip off. “Woah, careful with that,” says her weapon, and catches it, hand splayed on the middle of her back. Even through the jacket she can feel the warmth of it, or maybe she’s just drunk. “Don’t get your gross throw-up on it, shit was expensive.”

She snorts. It is a weak approximation of her usual full-bodied disdain, and perhaps this is what makes Soul help her put her arms through the sleeves. He pulls a handkerchief from nowhere and uses it to dab residual vomit from her face. Like a mother hen, she thinks distantly, and the thought in conjunction with her aloof, too-cool-for-school partner makes her giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Soul asks, and then shakes his head. “Actually, don’t tell me, it’s probably really stupid.”

“Yeah, it is,” she agrees.

Soul looks at the handkerchief and wrinkles his nose before his eyes dart to hers. “You’re not gonna throw up anymore, are you?” he asks, deadly serious.

After a moment’s thought, Maka shakes her head.

“You better not be lying,” Soul grumbles, turning his back to her and bending his knees. Maka stares at him, uncomprehending. “What are you waiting for,” Soul says gruffly. “Hop on.”

“This is embarrassing,” she mumbles, cheek pressed against his back, arms looped haphazardly around his shoulders. “It’s th’meister that carries th’weapon, not the other way ‘round.”

He shifts her a little farther up on his body. “No shit, Sherlock. Try not to get so drunk you barf next time.”

“Mmm,” she says, and closes her eyes. Silence falls between them for a time. Maka nearly falls asleep, lulled by the rocking motion of Soul’s steps and his warmth, vibrant against her front.

“Y’know, it’s kinda crazy,” Soul sighs, “that we can go out and kill monsters, but we can’t go into a bar and get alcohol that doesn’t taste like artificially sweetened gasoline.”

“We’re like thirteen,” Maka mumbles. “Alcohol’s for adults.”

Soul doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “You Death Kids or whatever they call you locals are fuckin’ crazy.”

“You got it backwards. It’s S’the rest of the world that doesn’t make sense.”

When they get to the apartment, Soul makes her walk up the stairs. She does, groaning and stumbling, but Soul manages to shepherd her through the door and into her bedroom. He undoes the straps of her boots and yanks them off, and her socks too for good measure. By this point she’s too tired to form words, so she gropes half-blind in the moonlit dimness of her room until she finds his hand and grabs it, a soft questing pressure. She hopes he understands.

(He does. Soul doesn’t leave until she falls asleep.)

#soulxmakaweek #somaweek2020 #somaweek #soulxmaka #soma #soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #se by z #soul/maka #zxanthe writes sometimes

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windandwater · 4 years

Text

When my grandfather on my dad’s side passed away, I wrote up a piece with just one family story after another about the experience. I can’t really do the same thing in the same way this time, but I am finding that, in every death, family draws tighter together and tells stories to each other almost on instinct, finding common ground around this one person who shaped us.

Here are some stories that have come out of the last few weeks.

I will warn you that the story of my mom’s family has a dark side—her biological mother was physically, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. My grandfather was the one who saved his children from her and thus I can’t speak of him without speaking of her as well. I ended up only telling one story that involves her and it has a content warning at the beginning as well as a note for when the story ends.

In his eulogy, my step-uncle said that my grandfather, his stepfather, taught him that “family isn’t about biology. It’s about love.”

Well, he was the one who taught me that too, only not because I had crappy parents. Until he remarried, mom had a crappy parent and a good parent, and the good parent held the family together and shaped us in ways that I’m still only beginning to find out.

CW CHILD ABUSE

(Note: I’m referring to her as my mom’s bio-mom or by her initials, NW.)

The custody battle was brutal, and it went all the way to the state supreme court. Fathers didn’t get custody back then—my mom says “abuse” wasn’t even in the lexicon in the initial court cases.

We found this out because my brother & his girlfriend googled my grandfather and this is what came up. They read the deposition and initially my brother was uncomfortable with her seeing it, but my mom said it grazed the surface—and as I told him, the only reason I don’t going around telling people that my mom’s bio mom did stuff like frequently sprain her wrist from beating them is that it’s not exactly the kind of thing you dump on people without warning, not because it’s a secret or because my mom doesn’t want me to talk about it.

I’ve known for a long time that when I was really little, my mom once found herself with her hands around my throat, freaked the fuck out, and from that moment had to second guess every inch of her parenting and her actions around us, because she had no instincts to fall back on. I didn’t need to read “choking her eldest daughter” as an example of abuse in a court case to know that that happened to my mom.

Anyway, the psychological abuse always scared me more. Because my mom won’t talk about it much.

END CW

Apparently, even though moms are perfect angels who should always get child custody and can do no wrong to children, word was getting around about her and someone offered to “take care of the problem” for $150.

My grandfather never would’ve said yes to that, and he decided to try the legal route first. But he was ready to take the kids and run, if he didn’t get custody. Leave his job, fake name, move to Phoenix, everything. I’m beyond thankful that didn’t have to happen but also beyond relieved that he was ready to.

He never spoke a single ill word about NW.

I was very disappointed about missing the funeral in person. I was hoping they’d have it after my ankle surgery so I could at least be propped up in a corner somewhere, high on Vicodin maybe, but there.

Honestly I’m disappointed about a lot of things this month.

The day before the funeral, my dad came in with a picture showing me the outside of the house. There was a rainbow. A little one, but a rainbow.

I of course dragged my ass out of my sickbed, hopped my way out there, and made him set up a chair so I could see it too.

There’s a reason I run a side blog of rainbows. There’s a personal & private story there, but what you need to know is that in dark moments, I often look for rainbows or have literal rainbows sent my way. They bring me hope every time. I sat outside, foot hurting and sweating all over from the heat, watching the rainbow fade, knowing it was going to be okay.

I haven’t always gotten along with my cousins on that side of the family. They grew up in Louisiana and are much closer to each other, so there’s a lot of gaps to bridge and we taller, dark-haired city people from Yankee land who clung close to each other and weren’t used to big families always kind of stuck out a bit among the short blondes who had always lived in the South in a big insane group of cousins and step-cousins.

We’ve gotten closer more recently. It’s trendy to hate on your family on facebook, but interacting on social media has given me some separation between the stuff that makes me roll my eyes about my cousins and the stuff that endears me to them.

And it was through facebook that we came together because of one simple fact: we all had the same, terrible morning.

We all woke up first thing to our moms, broken in half themselves, breaking our hearts too.

I get told that I laugh and smile a lot. Sometimes I’m even told that in non-creepy ways! And it’s true. I sometimes think I exist moment to moment trying to find something new to make me laugh. I learned that from my parents, who will watch or listen to just about anything if it’s funny. I learned to tell stories from them too, to take all my experiences and find the good the bad and the funny in everything.

My mom is my best audience. She laughs like a hyena at all my stories, my good lines and my bad lines. She’ll laugh at jokes that I *know* aren’t funny, at the ones that I think are hilarious but no one else laughed at, and she laughs the hardest of all at the jokes I’m extremely proud of and that land really well nearly every time.

Her whole family’s like that. Head thrown back, laughing hysterically, whole conversations just an excuse to try and make each other laugh.

Her dad, too. Just as loud and as hard as the rest of them. He had a giggle, and also a cackle. He used to give points when someone said something particularly funny, let out a really good zinger, or “won” a round of conversation. He’d just grin, solemnly lick his finger, and draw a “1” in the air.

He liked pranks. I’ve told story after story on my blog about how my family likes to mess with each other at Christmas. My mom’s saying is that “there’s no such thing as a lie at Christmas”, meaning that your gift is late or it wasn’t in stock or we can’t do it this year, I haven’t found a gift for you so you’re just getting candy? Not lies.

Except it’s not her saying. It’s his.

Anything that arrives at the house in December gets wrapped up and put under the tree; it’s automatically a gift. You think that trick of wrapping things in progressively smaller boxes is a prank? Amateur hour. I’ve wrapped up individual pieces of candy, individual matryoshka dolls, and yes, the smallest git in the largest box but also filled the box with packing peanuts to make it extra annoying.

I learned all of this from my mother.

But he taught it to her.

If I find hideous things to give my brother, it’s because my mom’s family rotated a Velvet Elvis, giving it to each other, for years. If my mom watched in stoic silence as my dad tore the house apart for looking something they got in Arizona that was wrapped up under the tree, it’s because someone wrapped up two huge boxes for my grandfather that he was excited to open, that turned out to be two light fixtures he’d ordered and forgotten about.

We never lost the magic of Christmas in my house. If anything it got more magical, more fun to surprise each other and find funny and creative ways to show each other how much we care. Gift giving is an art form in my family and I look forward to it every year.

It’s all because of my grandfather.

I learned so many things from my parents that they in turn learned from my grandfather. Even my dad learned a lot from him as his father-in-law, because it was impossible not to look up to him, and he was a teacher in his profession and by nature. Everyone talked so much at the funeral and afterwards about how he could fix anything, build anything, do, anything.

I was called “Tinker” at one of my old jobs for how I was always fixing everyone’s computer and the various office machinery. I didn’t necessarily know how until I sat down and looked at it. I just knew how to figure it out.

I always thought I learned that from my parents, which I guess is still true, but now I know who they passed it on to me from.

One thing I always associated with my mom was that any time she saw a pile of my necklaces in a knotted mess, she would sit down an untangle them for me. I never asked her to do that; she would just see them, and sit down and start working on them. She always got a specific look of concentration on her face as she did.

My dad and I were talking after the funeral and he mentioned my grandfather doing that exact thing in our house at ninety-something years old. He has a picture of it. I knew without seeing it exactly what the expression on his face would be.

It’s now one of my favorite pictures of him.

There was technical trouble with the Zoom funeral, which was pretty disastrous—I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t able to attend due to health & other problems. For someone so beloved, so central to the family, who we all owe so much to but don’t even think of it that way because he was so fun and easy to love…well, funerals are for the living, and not being able to be there in person hurt, bad, and I know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. We were relying on being able to attend digitally.

But most of the world is still getting used to doing things over video, and certainly the older couple running the funeral home was a bit clueless. I, on the other hand, ran video calls (not over Zoom, but still) almost daily for 2 years while I was an admin and we had remote employees calling in to meetings. So as soon as I realized exactly what was causing the problem, I got on the phone with the funeral home and did my best to salvage what we could.

And then I pulled the recording for everyone (thank goodness it was recorded).

And then before I watched it I wrote up some instructions, with screenshots, for the funeral home for next time, because they genuinely didn’t know what to do and I wanted to make sure the next family had an easier time and if the problem is just understanding technology, I know how to help with that! I’m good at figuring out and explaining this stuff! It’s just what you do—you help people when you can! You know?

And then I watched the funeral, and listened to my uncle talk about my grandfather always fixing things, and always teaching people.

And I just broke down. Because I knew. I knew who I was.

If the legacy I carry is that of someone who can’t resist helping others by teaching and fixing problems, then may I never ever ever let go of that legacy.

My mother called me to tell me that when they realized what was going on and what I was doing, my uncles both said the same thing, that “that was Papa.”

The only good part about any of this is that I’m here with my mom right now. She talked to him all the time before he died but she didn’t get to see him, and she keeps saying things like how she wishes she could tell him the good joke she heard. She’ll casually talk about the depression she’s fighting off.

I didn’t want a broken ankle to strand me here but there are worse times to be stuck with my mom.

#grief for ts #my writing #family #my mom

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turquoisephoenix · 4 years

Text

What's A Little Galaxy-Wide Destruction Between Friends?

��A Ratchet and Clank One-Shot

Five days after saving the galaxy from the Deplanetizer, Elaris is greeted by an old friend, who wishes to talk to her, vent a little, and give her life advice. Unfortunately for her, her old friend also happens to be a freshly transformed robot version of a dangerous criminal madman that everyone believed was dead. Elaris & Dr. Nefarious friendship Characters: Elaris, Dr. Nefarious, Lawrence, Qwark (mentioned) ————————————————-

Author's Notes: I saw the movie and immediately made the connection between Elaris and Nefarious, and by god, I was going to get this down. I realize this isn't the first "Nefarious talks to Elaris about her job" fic out there, but I kinda wanted to write a version where Nefarious and Elaris were friends before the whole evil thing kinda split them apart and, despite everything, they still have positive feelings about each other. It was a challenge writing Nefarious as a mixture of absolutely terrifying and also completely vulnerable and a bit in a fragile state. It's been a bad last couple of days for Nefarious. Also I was going to explain where Lawrence came from but it also came off as more "fitting" that he just *has* Lawrence.

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

"Yep, this sure is Umbris alright."

Elaris, technical support of the Galactic Rangers and one of the saviors of the galaxy a mere five days ago, was doing a menial patrol shift above the atmosphere of Umbris with no one to keep her company.

Despite not being in her expertise and despite this being a rather boring shift, Elaris had asked to be on Galactic Ranger patrol today. She got a few questions from her coworkers - after all, today was double XP weekend and a holiday event in League of Legendaries and they expected her to be holed up in her lab for days - but she won out in the end. She took the same spaceship she normally did, a beaten up little thing that could be best described as "dependable" and "cozy" and nothing more.

She didn't want to admit it out loud, but she was getting cabin fever from being in her in the lab, just a glorified broom closet, all day. She was kinda hoping that, by helping with the Deplanetizer and helping to save the galaxy, she would at least get a bit of a laboratory upgrade as a reward. Instead, with the media breathing down their necks and Qwark doing his big apology tour, her tiny comments of "can I please get a proper laboratory?" were written down as "things to do later" as they asked the new rookie Ratchet question after question of his upbringing and his mysterious past.

And she couldn't help but feel that she was going to be in that broom closet for quite a while now.

Sitting alone in a spaceship - with no sound to greet her but the steady hum of all the ship's computers - while keeping an eye on the airspace of a muddy, near uninhabited planet was at least brightening her mood a bit and allowing her to clear her head.

Anything to get her mind off the fact that the weapons technician before her died in the process.

That was the biggest bummer of the whole Deplanetizer ordeal in her eyes. At the end of the day, Dr. Nefarious was dead. He fell from a space station onto the surface of planet Umbris and that was that. Elaris was hoping that they'd be able to arrest him and that she'd get a chance to talk to him somehow, but instead they found a barely identifiable pile of flesh that had his DNA.

She couldn't help herself. She felt sad that he had to die like that.

Her other coworkers in the Galactic Rangers thought that she was being too idealistic about her old science partner and friend, that Dr. Nefarious was too far gone even before he tried to blow up the entire galaxy with a giant laser. But she wasn't asking for any miracles. She just wanted to ask him why.

And if he was thrown into a maximum security cell for the rest of his life after she asked him what was going on in his giant skull of his, that would be enough for her. They haven't spoken in two years and it'd be nice to hear his voice again, even if his voice could not be described as pleasing to the ear.

But now she couldn't, because he was nothing but a pile of squishy goo on planet Umbris.

Fitting to her mood, as she contemplated her now dead friend, the lights in her spaceship began to flicker ominously. "No, no, no, no-" she pleaded with the ship's computer before the lighting system went dead.

"Oh come on!" she shouted to the spaceship as she was enveloped in darkness. The universe sure knew how to tell sick jokes sometimes. Muttering about budget cuts, she got up from her seat and walked towards the back where she could probably whack the power supply with a wrench until it began working again.

She didn't get that far. She entered the hallway connecting the cockpit to the other small quarters of her spaceship while complaining about how she should've checked the fuses before she left headquarters when a shape with glowing eyes detached itself from the shadows, skittered over to her position, and then suddenly pressed her against the wall in the span of two seconds.

"Don't. Sound. The Alarm."

Elaris stood paralyzed, a cold metallic claw wrapped around her face. The main source of illumination in the dark hallway came from piercing red eyes set in black, empty eye sockets of the most terrifying robot she's ever seen. It was a bony creature with sharp metal claws and fearsome wings, looming over her even in its hunched over position, smelling of the same harsh cleaning chemicals used to remove blood stains off of metallic surfaces. Acid green lighting came from the creature's skull, transparent and revealing the many horrible devices whirring within.

Her immediate thought was that some horrible zombie robot had risen from the grave and came to wreak vengeance for his fallen crew as she stared at the skeletal features. Her mind racing, she wondered just what ancient pirate curse was roaming around this sector as the creature watched her squirm.

"Elaris, it's me." the horrific creature said in a electronic voice that sounded oddly familiar. The voice was high and gravelly and grating to her ears, but it unlocked memories of several years ago when her fellow Galactic Ranger Dr. Nefarious was yelling at Qwark from another room that yes, he was still working on the Combusters, Qwark, and that if he continued rushing him he was going to shove them right up his-

"Nefarious!?" Elaris shouted, which sounded like "Mmmarmemous?" through the hand placed on her mouth.

"I am going to let you go now, and when I do, I want you do not run away or to scream or anything like that! I just want to talk!" Dr. Nefarious continued. "Got it?"

She nodded, her brain immediately noting the cosmic irony in this situation. Gently, he removed his hand from her face and quietly backed up a step, watching her as she shrank against the wall. Immediately he cackled in the kind of laughter that sounded more anxious than joyful.

"Good! Good! You're not calling the Rangers or trying to pull a weapon on me! You're actually going to listen to me that's-" he quickly broke out in a giggle that sounded both nervous and utterly deranged. "You know honestly I didn't expect to get this far!"

As the panic melted away to be replaced with a more cautious fear, Elaris could examine him more closely. She worked with sentient and non-sentient robots on a daily basis - hell, one of her coworkers was one - but he looked...uncanny.

He was breathing for one, something even the most realistic robots never did. His movements were too lifelike, from the way he could set his jaw to the movements of his eyes. He was very twitchy, his parts fidgeting in a way that was normal with organic lifeforms but looked neurotic on robots. This was not a simple consciousness transfer into a robot double as a back-up in case his organic body was destroyed; this robot clearly worked from the same blueprint as his original body.

Or was his original body, just horrifically modified.

Mentally she placed her memory of Nefarious over this creature and could pick out places where things were missing. He was skinnier, his facial features gone as if forcefully removed. If Nefarious had built himself a robot double, he would've remembered his ears and nose. Something about this robot creature seemed...wrong.

'He didn't plan this,' Elaris thought. 'Something else did this to him.'

"What....happened to you with the Deplanetizer?" Elaris asked. 'I thought you were dead' remained unspoken but very much implied. She reached out to touch him and he flinched away from her hand with a tiny yelp, a very fresh and vivid memory of pain flashing through his databanks. She withdrew her hand and he exhaled - there he was doing more things that was really creepy for robots to do - and ran a hand up his glass dome of a head.

"I survived the fall from the space station to the planet's surface. Thankfully my prototype armor suit was able to keep me from not dying, falling from a great height like that, but I was badly injured, and I was swarmed by a bunch of repair droids. They're programmed to help with situations like a rescue but they were confused. They mistook my armor's energy frequencies as a part of me so they..." a tiny sob got caught in his throat from the memory as his shoulders sagged and he looked down at his hands. "-ha...thought I was a robot..."

He paused and looked up at her and a heavy silence fell between them. The very implications of what he said hung in the air. She said nothing but judging by his changed expression, which looked absolutely wounded, her face was betraying just how horrific she found this. Another not-quite-a-robot sigh.

"...I kept telling them to stop. I would black out at times, so I don't even remember how long I was being operated on. Even when my vocal cords weren't online yet, I was pleading for them to stop. They...left a big SQUISHY pile of my removed organs and skin and bone in a corner and still I was screaming at them to reverse it!"

Suddenly he slammed the palms of his hands into the wall and his voice turned into a harsh, metallic yell.

"AT ONE POINT THEY PULLED MY BRAIN OUT OF MY SKULL WHILE I WAS STILL CONSCIOUS!"

"Oh..." She wasn't sure what else to say beyond that. Sorry? Ouch? She wasn't sure if a friendly assuring pat on the back would do it in this situation either since he seemed very adverse to touch right now.

"I needed to talk to someone - besides Lawrence -and well, I knew what your spaceship looked like, figured, oh hey, might as well talk to an old friend!"

And climb into the spaceship uninvited through an airlock and mess with the programming for the lights so that he could surprise her in the cloak of darkness without the risk of her shooting him first (because who can blame her?) but he didn't mention that.

"That's why I'm here. To vent a little and finally tell you stuff I've been meaning to tell you! You know, before my mind snaps and I become a mindless creature of destruction with my new robot body."

Elaris stared at him, trying to decipher if that last part was a joke or an actual worry of his. Nefarious always did have a dry sense of humor. It didn't help like his smile looked absolutely terrifying.

"Like...?"

Another deep robotic breath. Did he have lungs? Did the repair bots keep some of his organ systems intact?

"I want you to quit the Galactic Rangers." he said, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

"Wait, what." was her immediate reply. The gruesome metal skeleton of her former science partner was going to give her career advice?

"Hear me out! I've been meaning to have this conversation with you for a while now after I left but, wouldn't you know it, I was tied up with work." The word "work" was doing a lot of heavy lifting in this conversation. He said it real casually, like the prison escape and the faking of his own death in order to join up with a criminal and start blowing up planets was just another blip on his resume.

"Elaris, I know how they're treating you. They gave you my old office after all. You know, the one that's just a glorified converted broom closet!" She winced, his words cutting deep. "I know exactly how they behave and I know for a fact that they just treat you like a doormat and like an automatic weapon dispenser! They call you a Galactic Ranger but you're not a part of their little friend group! They see you as a nerd, a passive little thing they can push around! You're not one of them!"

"I'm a little confused..." she started, saying the understatement of the century. She didn't get this patrol shift to get a pep talk from an undead robot after all. "You come onto my spaceship, back from the dead, all the flesh torn from your bones, but...instead of asking me to join you, get the recognition you truly deserve and have all your dreams come true by storming the galaxy side by side, yadda yadda, you...just want me to hand them a pink slip and leave?"

"Elaris, despite what it looks like, I'm not trying to sound like a lunatic here." he said, dragging his hand across his face.

"I just want you to get a better job than the one you have now! I don't want you to continue to be abused by those people - by QWARK - until the bitterness inside of you grows and grows until you snap and become just. Like. Me!"

"And I'll be honest - I don't want what happened to me to happen to you! LOOK AT ME!" he said, gesturing at himself.

She was about to respond with a retort that she was positive she wasn't going to land on a planet full of repair droids while wearing highly experimental armor that confuses them and they turn her into a robot in an incredibly gruesome and long surgical procedure, but Nefarious could see she was thinking just that and held up a hand, silencing her.

"Please....just get a desk job or a job working at a computer repair store. Anything where you don't have to work with Captain Qwark. He's using you the way he did me! And trust me, he's never going to stop! He's never going to change! He'll abuse you and think nothing of it because no one cares about people like us!"

"But I won't end up like you!" Elaris shouted back, their faces so close that they were nearly touching.

Nefarious's voice suddenly dropped to a normal speaking volume.

"How can you be so sure?"

Silence fell. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, withering under his gaze as he folded his hands underneath his chin and examined her. The worst part about it was that he didn't look smug or mocking. He just looked tired.

"Why do you even care?" she asked, dodging the question.

"Because I like you, Elaris. All the other losers in the Galactic Rangers can go end up in a black hole for all I care but I don't want you getting hurt!"

Elaris had to admit, she was a little stunned hearing that come out of his mouth. 'Well, chalk that up as one positive trait for Dr. Nefarious, he actually has the capacity to care about other people while he's going about trying to blow up other planets.' she thought to herself as she tried to decipher his concern as genuine or just an insane whim.

"That's all?" Elaris asked.

"That's all." he replied. Elaris couldn't help but make a little snort of disbelief in response, causing the robot to instantly be defensive. "What?"

"Oh nothing. Just a little amused that you look like the specter of death and climb into my spaceship after returning from the dead, emerging like a horrendous butterfly out of a fleshy mound of rotting flesh, one of the most wanted criminals in the entire galaxy, but you came into my spaceship to admit you still have feelings for me."

She immediately regretted saying that for two reasons. The first reason was that she realized that she shouldn't be making fun of the madman who had just been turned into a robot. The second reason was that caused Dr. Nefarious to start ranting very loudly, and that made Elaris realize that one of the side-effects of being turned into a robot was the loss of the ability to have an indoor voice.

"Yes, YES, it sounds crazy!" he screamed. "I sound crazy right now! That's the problem with this new robot body! Instead of being emotionless, like what you'd expect when you're transformed into a robot, it's like the exact opposite happened! All of my emotions have been intensified a thousand degrees! This worry became a paranoia! My hatred is now burning with an intensity of a thousand angry suns! My bitterness is like raging venom in my heart!"

"You have a heart still?"

"I DON'T KNOW!!! See? SEE? I'm SHOUTING! I'm MONOLOGUING! I don't MEAN to shout but then it just comes out ALL LOUD AND INTENSE AND GOES ON FOREVER aaaaaand oh GOD I am losing my mind aren't I?" His last vestiges of sanity - tiny and rapidly going extinct, but still there and doing a valiant effort to keep him from being totally lost to reason - suddenly halted his rant in mid-sentence, causing him to drag his hands across his face. It's been a week for Dr. Nefarious, where being hit in the face with a wrench by a Lombax was the least of his worries.

"-please tell me I don't look like a complete nutcase right now."

Elaris sucked in air through her teeth and looked away from him in embarrassment. "Uh...do you want the truth or a little white lie?" she asked.

"I don't know! Give me whatever makes me feel better!"

"You don't look like complete nutcase."

Nefarious narrowed his eyes at her as she smiled innocently back and he looked ready to say something when suddenly a very crusty, digitized version of the pop song "Your Eyes Are Like Quazars" started playing.

"Hang on." He pulled out a cell phone out of his belt - flip phone model - and held it to the closest thing on his metallic skull that could be called "an ear". He shot her a "I'm sorry I know this looks rude but this could be important" look at her as a very dignified voice rang out from the other line.

"I do hate to bother you, sir, but you might want to wrap up whatever it is you're doing to that Galactic Ranger-"

"We're just TALKING, Lawrence!"

"-right. Anyhoo, there is another patrol ship heading your way and I'd hate for your current plans of lying low for a couple months to plot out your next scheme of horrible vengeance to be ruined because you wanted to talk to your old girlfriend."

"SHE'S NOT-ugh, fine. FINE, I'm GOING!" he said, and hung the phone up with an undignified clack of the flip phone closing in-between two metal claws.

"Just think about what I said, Elaris!" he yelled dramatically while pointing at her as he shoved his phone away in his back pocket. She wasn't going to question why he had pockets as a robot. There were a lot of things about this situation she was just not going to question.

"I wouldn't do this if I didn't have this fear that you're going to walk the same path that I did! Call it weakness or the last remaining thread of my former organic self! ...or craziness. I dunno. I'm kinda playing it by ear at this point." he said, twirling a finger in the air, as he started to move his way towards the airlock.

"Wait, before you go-"

She reached out and grabbed his hand, and when he turned to glare at her, eyes filling the hallway with a harsh red light, Elaris briefly wondered if she made a horrible mistake and that this was going to be the moment where he snaps and uses his cold metal claws to claim his first victim in a gruesome robotic rampage. But then his expression softened and he just looked grumpy, the killer robot expression fading away.

"I know you're planning something! Just promise me that your next mad scientist-"

"-Vengeful-" he corrected.

"-Vengeful scientist scheme doesn't involve the mass murder of millions of innocent people like last time. Do something, I don't know," she gestured in the empty air as she looked for the right word, "-nonlethal this time? I'm asking for the bare minimum from you. Please?"

"Why Elaris, I'm shocked." he said, placing his one free hand on his chest. "I'm surprised you didn't aim for something higher like 'quit being evil' or 'turn yourself in'. You could be saving the whole galaxy right now by stopping me!"

"You asked for something smaller, so I'm asking for something smaller. I'll keep what you said in mind. At the very least, I'm going to ask for an actual office rather than the broom closet the next time I come into work. I'll quit if they-" The 'they' meaning 'Qwark' in this case, "-start pushing me around again, I promise."

"If they push you around, push back. Push back until they bleed." he hissed.

There was something in that statement that reminded her of a day that happened at Galactic Rangers Headquarters two years ago. Dr. Nefarious - the Nefarious that still had flesh and skin - was busy stirring his coffee and talking to his trainee Elaris about the new episode of Annihilation Nation when Captain Qwark 'accidentally' bumped him while walking past, spilling it on his shirt. This caused Nefarious to throw down his coffee mug down on the ground and yell "It's a good thing we're on the same side or else you'd be DEAD, Qwark! DEAD!"

He quit several days later to start plotting an evil scheme that involved atomizing all of Aleero City.

"I will." she said with that comforting memory still hanging about in her brain. "Thanks for still looking out for me." And with those words, she let go of his arm and let the supervillain go.

He stood there, looking like he had something more to say, but then he decided to turn around and skitter into the shadows, disappearing from her sight. There was the sound of an airlock opening in the distance and then he was gone, disappearing like a bad nightmare.

Two minutes later, Elaris was able to get the lights working again in her little spaceship just as Cora radioed in and asked if everything was alright. Elaris cheerfully lied and said "sure, everything's fine, nothing's happened since you last checked in, lighting's a bit funky but otherwise nothing new!" and then she was alone again, still staring at Umbris.

As she sat back in the driver's seat and stared out at the endless sea of stars and planets stretching out in front of her, the rest of her patrol shift weighing down on her shoulders, she had to give voice to a lingering thought in her head.

"If this is just a really weird dream I'm going to be so mad."

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

Back in the current makeshift lair of Dr. Nefarious (a repurposed garage situated on the surface of planet Umbris littered with the broken corpses of several dozen repair droids), the vengeful scientist-turned-robot was brooding dramatically in a chair as his butler Lawrence polished him. He sat there, hand propping up his skeletal chin, and sighed. Giving an old friend some helpful life advice never turned out the way you wanted it to.

"So how did it go, Sir?" Lawrence asked in a tone of voice that implied that he really couldn't care less.

"I asked her to quit the Galactic Rangers, and in return, she asked me to not kill anyone in my next evil scheme." he said nonchalantly as his butler sprayed him with cleanser and started wiping his glass dome of a head. "I think she's worried about me, Lawrence!"

He didn't say it out loud, but he was worried for Elaris too. Maybe he should've asked her to join him after all. He saw the news articles coming out involving the Deplanetizer incident. All the praise was aimed at Ratchet and Qwark with nothing mentioning Elaris. He was certain that she had a hand in moving the entire space station. At least if she was working by his side, two vengeful scientists, both outcasts from the Galactic Rangers, she'd get the recognition she'd truly deserve!

The irony of him plotting out her delightfully evil future after warning her not to become evil like him didn't even cross his mind.

"Did you tell her 'why don't fret, my dear, my next evil scheme merely involves turning all organic lifeforms into robots with a giant non-planet destroying laser'?"

Dr. Nefarious laughed maniacally.

"Of course not!" he yelled, springing from his chair and knocking Lawrence aside. He was practically strutting like a peacock, his feet crunching as he stepped on discarded robot parts, as he marched his way towards a wall, where a giant red button just waited for him to slam his fist into.

He cackled in glee as the room was suddenly illuminated with the hologram of a massive, planet-sized device, the latest of evil concoctions pulled from his brain, now converted into wires and chips by the cruel hand of fate.

He called it the Biobliterator.

"I want that part to be a surprise!"

---

END

#ratchet and clank #elaris #Dr Nefarious #Ratchet and Clank Movie #turquoisephoenix tells a story #Dr. Nefarious #Fanfic #Lawrence #this takes place in the reboot universe #Implied gore #some headcanoning going on here in regards to how Nefarious got turned into a robot

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ironicallyrog · 5 years

Text

These Mornings.

The mornings with Roger were always the best mornings yn could have.

fluff 100%

masterlist

I yawned, stretching my muscles to relieve them of the tension that was built during the night.

Roger laid peacefully next to me, small snores falling from his slightly parted lips. His arm was thrown over my side, his leg nudged near mine. Hair was thrown about on the pillow, longer dirty blonde waves that smelt of his evergreen shampoo and my strawberry conditioner. (He always claimed he never used mine, but I saw him grab it subconsciously while showering one morning together. And you could smell it. And he wasn't the best liar.)

This is how it always was in the mornings. Peaceful bliss, light cuddles and warmth from each other's bodies radiating off toward the other.

Sometimes when we woke up we'd cuddle and talk. Sometimes we'd get a cup of tea and sit on the balcony in comfortable silence. Sometimes we'd have cuddly morning sex. Sometimes we just laid in bed all day, talking and sleeping. But no matter what, it always seemed like the perfect day afterwards.

Roger's eyes squinted slightly as he began to slowly wake up from his slumber. Arms shuffling from my waist to come and rub his sleepy eyes. He opened them, a small soft smile playing on his lips when he looked at me.

"Good morning, Petal." He grinned, placing a kiss to my temple.

"Good morning, Roggie. How did you sleep?"

This was also always apart of our morning routine. Greeting one another and have rather boring conversation about how we both slept before getting on with our rather exciting day.

It was always some type of exciting. Something was always going on with Queen. Interviews, music videos, song writing, song recording, talking about the upcoming album, or even just a fancy party that Freddie would host. There was truly never a dull moment dating a rock n roll star.

"What's on the agenda for today, Mr. Taylor." I giggled, his hand finding its way to my stomach again.

"Maybe some good morning loving." He chuckled, winking before his hand made it's way closer to your breast.

Every time I said the words, "Mr. Taylor." Roggie would go into a frenzie, and I couldn't help but find it incredibly funny.

"Roger! How are you always so horny." I laughed loudly, throwing my head back into the pillow.

"Well, when I wake up to you every morning, it's hard not to." He smiled, turning on his back to grab his pack of cigarettes. He lit it, turning back towards me, pressing yet another kiss to my temple.

"Corny." I giggled, rolling my eyes.

"Horny and Corny. Could be a good brothers band." He shrugged, trying to contain his serious face as I cackled again, shaking my head at him.

"You're something different, Roggie." I giggled, cuddling into his chest with a satisfied sigh.

These mornings were always my favorite.

permanent taglist : @luvborhap @mirkwoodshewolf

#ben hardy imagine #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #roger taylor

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zecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Fic: Taken For A Ride

To: @theultimateweirdshipper From: @therealhousewivesofhyrule

I was so excited to see another Santa/Clover prompt this year, so thanks for making my job so much fun! I hope this is ‘odd’ enough for you, haha. Merry Christmas!

AO3 Link

——

Of all the things Aoi had expected to see when he pulled up to his own apartment, a pink-haired girl running for her life was not even close to being on the list. But instead of asking if she was okay or what had gotten her so spooked, Aoi decides he doesn’t care about any of that and says, “What the fuck are you doing at my house?”

Clover takes one look at Aoi in the driver’s seat of his fancy convertible, puts a hand on the passenger side door, and jumps over it to land in the empty seat next to him. She doesn’t bother greeting him at all. “Who cares? Just drive.”

She buckles herself in and Aoi, ever the gentleman, starts the engine. He’s annoyed by her sudden intrusion, but he’s never been able to say no to her, and he likes her fire, besides.

“Okay, sure,” he says. “But what–”

He’s about to ask again why she’s at his house, but the answer comes barreling out of the apartment complex’s door, dressed in plaid and way too many vests.

“Clover, wait–”

“Aw, fuck.” Aoi’s eyes narrow at Junpei as he stumbles toward the car. “What the hell did you do?”

“I said shut up and drive!” Clover snaps.

Aoi shrugs. “Fair enough.” And floors it.

“Clover!”

Clover unbuckles and leans over the edge of the door, flipping Junpei off with both hands and waving them around. “Later, scrub!”

One hand on the wheel and panicking like he’s the one half-hanging out a car window, Aoi reaches over and grabs Clover by the back of the skirt. He tries extremely hard not to look at her butt while he’s got a fistful of fabric, but hey. He has to admit, as far as butts go, Clover’s is kind of cute, and it’s hard not to look when it’s practically being shoved in his face.

She really should get a longer skirt, Aoi thinks. And he pointedly doesn’t think about the fact that he really shouldn’t be lifting it higher than it already is.

He yanks on Clover’s skirt hard enough to pull her back into the car. She yelps, hits the seat with a soft thwump!, and crosses her arms. She half-glares, half-pouts at Aoi. “You could have asked if you wanted to touch my butt, you know.”

“I don’t want to fuckin’ touch your butt,” Santa snaps back, lying through his teeth.

“Whatever.”

They’re silent for about half a second more before Clover reaches over to the radio and turns it up, full-blast.

“–OUT THE PASSENGER’S SIDE OF HIS BEST FRIEND’S RIDE–”

Aoi immediately turns it right back down. “I hate that song,” he says.

Clover turns it back up. Aoi turns it back down.

Clover turns it up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Aoi turns it down again, and once more, Clover puts it on blast. Realizing there’s no way he’s winning this fight, Aoi finally relents, gritting his teeth and clutching the wheel until his knuckles turn white.

“Once again, Clover gets her way.” Just like she always does. “Seriously, could you be any more of a spoiled brat?”

“Sorry, can’t hear you over how great this song is!”

“Ugh.”

The song runs its course and Aoi shuts the radio off. Clover reaches to turn it back on, but he bats her hand away, actually kind of pissed now. “Radio doesn’t go back on until you answer some of my goddamn questions.”

“Touchy touchy,” Clover says.

“First,” Aoi says, taking her sass as a cue to continue, “What the fuck were you doing at my house?”

“Why the fuck do you have a convertible?” she retorts. “Isn’t this a little flashy for someone who’s supposedly trying to lay low?”

Aoi keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him. He resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “In case bratty little girls who don’t bother asking for a ride need one.”

Clover has the dignity to look affronted. “I am not a little girl!”

Aoi shrugs. “You barely come up to my shoulders, pipsqueak. Seems pretty little to me.”

She stutters. Good.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time, and if you don’t give me an answer I like, your ass is out on the curb. And I ain’t stopping to let you out.” He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. She doesn’t look threatened at all. “What were you doing at my house?”

Clover smirks. “Looking for you.”

Aoi doesn’t buy it, but he can’t say he doesn’t like the answer. Fucking smartass. “Great,” he says. “Flattered. Next question: what the fuck did you do to Junpei?”

“Pissed him off.”

Aoi does a full-body eyeroll, his head lolling on his shoulders. “Obviously. Any particular reason you feel like sharing with the class?”

“No,” Clover says, with that horrible-adorable cheeky smirk of hers. Figures she’d be stubborn. Aoi doesn’t know whether he should be pissed or pleased; she’s a tough cookie, and the flirtatiousness is a nice change from her usual bad attitude. He supposes it’s those little cracks in her bitchy facade that keep him saying yes to her.

Jump, Aoi!

How high, Princess?

Clover doesn’t let him stay lost in his thoughts for long. “Besides, I think we’re getting a little far from the real elephant in the room.”

Aoi bites. “And what would that be?”

Clover grins, all trouble. Aoi likes it… for all of two seconds, until he realizes she’s kneeling on the seat and leaning over the center console, poised for all the world like fucking Catwoman. It’s not sexy at all, but damn it, Aoi hates himself just that little more for falling for the distraction.

Eyes on the road. Eyes on the road.

“Why don’t you pull over and find out?”

Aoi’s pretty sure he’s about to pop a blood vessel. He just hopes that when it finally goes, it doesn’t spurt out his nose like a goddamn anime character. He knows she’s just trying to get under his skin and none of this really means anything - it’s just a game they like to play - but damn it if she isn’t winning. Again. Aoi curses his own weakness at the same time he figures out how to get her back.

“Okay, sure,” he says, and he takes delight in the split-second in which he can see Clover’s eyes go wide. He turns sharply, too sharply, and the car swerves; Clover screams as she’s thrown off balance and practically whipped out of the car.

Aoi laughs at her.

“Man, you should’ve seen the look on your face!” He cackles and regains control of the car, steering it back into its proper lane. Other traffic passes by him, honking and flipping him off as they go. Aoi doesn’t care; he’s victorious.

“You could have killed me!” Clover shrieks. She regains her balance and punches Aoi in the arm. It hurts (when did she get so tough?) but even that can’t bring him down now.

“Then maybe you should have been wearing your fucking seatbelt, huh?”

Clover sits back down in her seat, cowed for the moment. She is not happy. But who cares? Aoi is more than happy enough for the both of them, so instead of shutting his trap like a decent fucking human being would, he decides to press her a little further.

“Besides, you still ain’t dead, are you? Even though I could have killed you lots of times. Remember when I locked you and your brother up in the middle of Nevada and pretended you’d swallowed a bomb? And then I threatened to blow your brains out?”

Clover snarls. “I remember.”

“Good times.”

Clover squirms in her seat. Aoi wonders if he’s made her a little too uncomfortable, but when he tilts his head to look at her he sees she’s… smiling?

“…Yeah. I guess it kinda was.”

Aoi snorts. “You sick fuck.”

“I’m the sick fuck?”

“Yeah,” Aoi says. “You would be-“

He’s cut off from that thought by another one popping up in his head: an image of Clover, moving and playing in his mind’s eye like a memory, walking up and down the stairs in Building Q’s steam engine room. Except Aoi very vividly does not remember that happening, despite his jokes to Junpei at the time.

"What the fuck?!” The car swerves again and Clover shrieks with laughter.

“Ha! Gotcha good there, didn’t I? You perv~!"

Aoi manages to get the car under control again, and he curses under his breath: "Fuck shit God damn it fucking Senders holy shit coulda killed us both what the fuck–”

“Aw, did I scare you?” Clover teases, giggling like an idiot. Aoi glares at her in the passenger seat. "Maybe you shouldn’t tell Junpei next time you have thoughts like that. Or, better yet, don’t leave your mind so open for me. Not that you can help it, though, it seems pretty empty up there…”

“That’s it,” Aoi says, still trying to recover a steady heartbeat. “Game over. You’re goin’ home.”

“More like you’re going home, to-"

An exceptionally vulgar thought crosses Aoi’s mind that definitely isn’t his own. He turns to glare at Clover. "Cut that shit out or so help me I will turn this car around-”

“And what?"

"And hand you over to Junpei to face some goddamn comeuppance. Brat.”

Clover snorts. “Pff. Like that’s a threat.”

“No, but I’m guessing he’s not the only one you pissed off if you were in such a rush to get out of my house. Want me to hand you over to Akane instead?"

Clover’s face pales and real fear fills her eyes. Aoi doesn’t need her to send her thoughts to his brain to know that she’s reliving the last time she pissed off Akane.

It had been horrible. All three of them - Aoi, Junpei, and Clover - had been mentally scarred for weeks after. "You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Princess.”

Clover snaps her mouth shut and turns to face the road. The rest of the short drive is spent in silence, except for Aoi’s triumphant cheering as he speeds down the road at double the limit.

–

He drops Clover off at her front door and tells her, in no uncertain terms, to “Get the fuck out of my car.”

He resists the urge to physically kick her out of the car just for the fun of it, but he is nothing if not a gracious man. Not that Clover seems to appreciate that: she glares, pouts, and crosses her arms at him.

A short distance behind her, Light opens the front door and makes his way toward them.

“I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble,” he says, reaching into the convertible and grabbing Clover by the back of her hood, like a cat picking up a kitten by the scruff of its neck. Aoi raises a brow and nods, impressed. Snake is pretty damn strong for such a skinny guy.

“Only the usual amount,” he says. Clover’s frown deepens; Light has yet to put her down, so she’s still dangling in the air. Aoi laughs; she’s just too cute.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he says. He leans out the passenger-side window and presses a quick kiss to Clover’s lips. “You know I love you.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t believe you. You might have to kiss me again to prove it.”

He does, forgetting for a moment that Light is standing right there. When he pulls away, he grins like the devil up at the taller man. “Sorry ‘bout that, Light.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, sarcastic as ever. “It’s not as if I can see you.”

“Oh yeah.”

Clover bops Aoi on the head with a loose fist. “Same time next week?” she asks.

Aoi grins. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, babe.”

He gives Light a small wave, a flick of the wrist, forgetting that Light can’t see how absolutely uncool that was. Clover blows a raspberry at him - God, she’s cute - and he flips her off.

“You two are so weird,” Light mumbles as he turns around to carry Clover into the house. Aoi can’t stop himself from laughing as he watches them go.

Yeah, he thinks to himself. She really does need to get a longer skirt.

And then he’s off.

#zero escape #theultimateweirdshipper #therealhousewivesofhyrule #clover/santa #zecret santa 2019 #submission

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moonykiarchive · 5 years

Text

I Promise you

post 41 / ???

Jongin is a bit early again, but this time, he immediately texts Taemin to let him know that he has arrived at his building. Taemin takes a couple of minutes to answer & he gives him the code to enter & tells him to go to the third floor, apartment 306. Jongin knocks on the door & it immediately opens to a smiling Taemin with wet hair, a large striped shirt, & sweatpants & Jongin finds it very difficult to breathe. Jongin stays in the corridor, very much frozen in place & Taemin giggles & takes him by the hand to pull him inside & closes the door behind him.

“Hi there.”

“hi.”

Taemin smells really good & they’re really close & Jongin can’t help but bring one of his arms around Taemin’s waist to hug him softly & press a kiss to his hair.

“sorry i’m early again...”

“Don’t apologize for that…”

Taemin turns around to face him completely & he looks a bit flustered & he’s blinking quite quickly & Jongin finds him adorable.

“I’m just gonna go dry my hair and I’ll be right back, okay? You can make yourself comfortable.”

“alright...”

“Alright...”

Taemin looks up at him but doesn’t move an inch & it makes Jongin smiles.

“you physically can’t remove yourself from our hug, right?”

Taemin nods & his cheeks & forehead are starting to turn pink.

“can i take advantage of that to kiss you before i let go?”

Taemin nods again, a bit quicker this time & Jongin laughs. Jongin tilts his head & he presses a long, soft kiss on Taemin’s lips, & Taemin immediately kisses him back & he’s holding onto Jongin’s shirt & he forgets about his wet hair for a moment. It takes a few minutes for Jongin to let go, but when he does, he gets blinded by Taemin’s smile.

“you go dry your hair now...”

“Okay~”

Jongin steps back & Taemin is trotting away already, down the hallway, when Jongin’s hand on his wrist stops him. Jongin looks a bit awkward all of a sudden.

“where should i wait?”

Taemin bounces on his feet & laughs nervously as he points to the first door on the left.

“Sorry, the living room is here.”

“am i about to meet the roommate?”

“Mhmm? Ah, no, Jinki’s at the hospital.”

There’s a brief silence & Jongin’s eyes widen impossibly & he goes all white & Taemin is frowning.

“what?! he is okay? what happened? are you alright?”

“Uh? Yeah, everything’s fine...”

“what happened to him? is it serious?”

Taemin blinks, once, twice, & then he lets out a squeak as he hits his head & flails his arms between them.

“No, no, everything’s alright! Jinki’s always at the hospital!”

“what?!!!”

“He’s a medical resident! I thought I told you!”

Jongin puffs his cheeks & furrows his eyebrows at Taemin with a pout.

“you didn’t tell me...”

“Sorry, sorry, he should be home a bit later, I think.”

“taeminnie, you need to stop saying things in such a scary way...”

Taemin tip toes back to Jongin & hugs him again & he’s laughing a bit & hiding his face in Jongin’s neck.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

Jongin pouts & brings his hands to Taemin’s cheeks & he forces his boyfriend to look at him, before he pushes his nose against Taemin’s.

“go dry your hair now. then we’ll get on with all those hugs and kisses you owe me...”

Jongin pecks Taemin’s nose & lets him go & maybe his eyes are lingering a bit on his boyfriend until Taemin disappears into another room of the little apartment. Jongin makes his way to the living room, which happens to be the kitchen too, & he’s looking around, suddenly a bit shy. He can hear Taemin, busy in the bathroom & he checks out the small DVD collection & the few dirty dishes in the sink. He sits on the couch with a little sigh, because it’s really comfortable & he decides that he likes it here, it’s cozy & rather cute & he likes the small messes here & there & he likes the few pictures of landscapes on the walls & he likes the clothes thrown on the chair in the corner & he likes the few cacti on the shelf next to the TV & he likes that the blanket next to him on the couch smells so much like Taemin.

Jongin perks up when Taemin comes back, his hair all fluffed up, & he looks so soft & cuddly that Jongin feels his heart suddenly race & Taemin grins at him & comes behind him to put his small hands on Jongin’s shoulders & kiss his hair & he asks him if he wants anything to drink. They settle for some tea & Taemin goes away again to the little kitchen & Jongin is very quick to get up and join him.

“I wanted to clean everything before you came, but I forgot the dishes...”

Taemin is pouting & Jongin pokes his waist.

“i really don’t care about that.”

Taemin prepares two mugs & Jongin can’t help but smirk when he sees the mug with his face on it that Taemin chose & when he points it out with a very pleased little face, Taemin looks flustered.

“Oh... damn...”

“i thought you picked it on purpose...”

“No, I mean-... it’s just-... It’s my mug. I kinda always use this one, for obvious reasons. I didn’t realize-... Is it weird for you?”

“no, it’s not! i like it!”

“Good.” Taemin is chuckling & hiding his face behind one hand. “Otherwise I would have to avoid taking you to my room, I think.”

“ooooh? you're making me really curious now, taeminnie~.”

“You wanna see? Should I give you a tour? I’m being a terrible host, leaving you here alone and not even showing you around my home...”

“it’s alright, let’s take a look while the tea is brewing...”

Taemin’s & Jinki’s home is quite small & there’s isn’t much more for Jongin to see, but Taemin shows him the tiny bathroom & his little cabinet filled with the beauty products that EXO has promoted & he’s blushing a bit but he still looks kind of proud of himself & Jongin can’t help but leave kisses all over his cheeks. Then Taemin shows him his room & Jongin can see himself on posters put into frames on each wall, & he immediately recognizes a few shelves with EXO merch that he has seen in pictures on Taemin’s instagram already, but there are also a few anime books & figures & even more clothes on the ground than there was in the living room & he likes Taemin’s baby blue bedsheets.

“So... is it creepy?”

Taemin’s voice is tiny & Jongin turns around to look at him with a grin.

“no.”

“Really?”

Jongin nods & trots closer to take a peek at Taemin’s CD collection & then at his very large bookcases.

“can i look around or will it make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no, you can go ahead."

Jongin looks at Taemin’s desk & the few pictures of himself pinned to the wall in front of it & he can’t help but smile. Then he takes a closer look at Taemin’s bed & he bites his lip.

“oooooh.”

“Ah, you found him.”

Jongin is sitting on the bed, holding the little doll of himself with a smirk & Taemin rubs his neck & comes closer until his legs are bumping against Jongin’s.

“i have this one too...ehehe.”

“I know. I’ve seen him on your instagram.”

“so you sleep with him?”

“Every night.”

“lucky little me.”

Taemin laughs & Jongin puts the doll back against the pillow, before he turns to Taemin & looks up to him. He raises one of his hands to Taemin’s lower back & brings him even closer until he’s resting his head against Taemin’s stomach & Taemin’s hands come to play with Jongin’s hair.

“I hug him a lot too.”

“are you trying to make me jealous of a plush doll version of me?”

Taemin giggles.

“When I’m watching videos of you and you act really adorable, which is very often, I end up kissing him a lot. He gets a lot more kisses than you.”

“that’s really unfair!!”

Taemin bends down to kiss him & he moves around until he’s sitting on Jongin’s lap. They keep kissing & Taemin wraps his arms around Jongin’s neck & he’s getting a bit dizzy, because Jongin’s lips are so soft & so plushy & so much more perfect than he had ever dreamed them to be. But then, Jongin breaks the kiss & he’s whispering against Taemin’s lips.

“taeminnie...”

“Mhmmm?”

“we forgot the tea...”

Taemin blinks & he leans back to look at Jongin better & he sees him smiling at him gently, with shining eyes & damn this man is just so handsome & how can he be so handsome? How?! & it finally comes back to him. Yes. The tea.

Taemin is blushing a bit, because keeping his mind clear around Jongin is still so difficult & they go back to the living room & he has to redo their tea & when it’s finally done & they’re sitting on the couch close to each other, the front door opens & Jongin straightens up & Taemin sees him dusting off his jeans & tucking his shirt back into his pants & Taemin can’t help but snort.

“What are you doing?”

“i want to make a good impression.”

“You’re not meeting my parents.”

“shut up!”

Taemin laughs.

“I’m back!”

“We’re in here.”

Jongin gets up & he’s bowing at Jinki as soon as Jinki enters the room & Taemin is cackling. Taemin properly introduces them & it doesn’t take too long for Jongin to relax, because Jinki is already joking around & making him comfortable. Then he starts spilling the tea & Taemin pouts, sitting on the armchair as he sees Jinki & Jongin getting all friendly on the couch, talking about fried chicken & him, as if he wasn’t even here & Jinki is telling Jongin how he heard so much about him.

“Hyung, stop embarrassing me...”

Taemin has his arms crossed over his chest & Jongin suddenly feels a bit guilty, but Jinki is telling him such cute things about Taemin right now that he can’t find it in himself to stop him. Like how it takes Taemin approximately 2 seconds to lash out when Jinki pretends to have forgotten who EXO Kai is, & somehow, imagining an angry Taemin only seems adorable to Jongin.

"That’s because Minho-hyung & you are just assholes who like to push my buttons and see me annoyed.”

“It’s so easy though... It works every single time.”

Jongin leans over the armchair to hold Taemin’s hand & he’s pulling him forward until Taemin is forced to get up & Jongin pulls him down to sit on his lap & Taemin’s pout is vanishing a little bit, because this feels so nice & so domestic & so soft & his heart can’t really take all of that. Then Jongin is kissing his temple & hugging him close, until Taemin is completely resting against him & Taemin can’t remember why he was upset in the first place.

“you know, the guys want to meet you too...”

Taemin blinks a couple of times & turns a bit to look at Jongin & there’s a mix of fear & excitement in his eyes & his voice is a bit more acute than usual.

“The guys...?”

“the others exo members.”

“Really?!”

“i talk about you so much that they all asked to meet you. it can’t be too soon, because we’re busy with the tour... but if you’re alright with it, you could meet them after. and they’ll all be extremely happy to tell you lots of embarrassing stuff about me too. to make it fair.”

Taemin widens his eyes & he’s staring at Jongin in disbelief.

“For real?”

“for real.”

“Holy shit!”

“does that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know, this is so much to take in!!”

Jinki leaves them, because he really needs a shower after his long day at work & he wants to rest & give them privacy at the same time. & Taemin sits a bit more comfortably on Jongin with a little smile at the corner of his lips.

“You’d really let me meet Suho again?”

“again?!”

“I met him in Minho's bakery once... It was really nice.”

“why do you have to mention him?”

Taemin laughs & then he’s kissing Jongin’s pout. Jongin tells him that he can still think about it & he repeats that they’ll only do it after the tour anyway & that they can wait more if Taemin wants, then they’re kissing again. They end up talking about the tour & how exciting it is for Jongin. Then they talk about dancing & the conversation starts drifting off into personal subjects & memories & they’re still hugging softly & at some point, Taemin realizes how perfect of a date this is & it’s only the two of them, cuddling on his sofa, talking about nothing & everything & Jongin sharing little bits of himself that Taemin thought he would never know.

“Jonginnie...”

“mhmm?”

“There’s something I kind of always wanted to do... Can we?”

“what is it?”

Taemin moves away from him a bit & Jongin immediately pouts.

“i don’t like this already…”

Taemin starts laughing & he pats his own lap.

“Please rest your head on me.”

Jongin widens his eyes, & then smiles, & he obeys. He wiggles on the couch to lie down & puts his head on Taemin’s lap & looks up at him with a smirk.

“are you happy? is this like your dreams?”

“Almost...”

Taemin takes his time & gently puts his hands on Jongin’s head & he’s stroking his hair, almost reverently. Jongin’s hair is so soft between his fingers & Taemin brushes his scalp a bit & gives him a little massage & Jongin’s eyes are fluttering shut & he’s smiling.

“this is really nice...”

“Is it?”

“mhmmm...”

“Your hair always looks so soft, I’ve always wanted to just-... do this... run my fingers through it...”

One of Taemin’s hands moves over to Jongin’s face to stroke his cheeks & forehead & nose & chin & Taemin feels very emotional all of a sudden. He bends down to press a kiss to Jongin’s cheekbone, then his temple. Jongin turns his head & purses his lips & Taemin chuckles before he kisses him. It’s a bit awkward, considering the position they’re in, but they don’t care & Taemin soon straightens up again to continue his little ministrations.

“taeminnie...”

Jongin’s voice is barely louder than a whisper. He seems completely relaxed in Taemin’s arms.

“Yes?”

“does it also feel-... is it-... mhmm... wait a minute, i don’t know how to say it.”

“I’ll wait.”

Jongin opens his eyes again to look at him & he smiles & Taemin’s heart explodes.

“i like how you make me feel.”

“You mean the massage?”

“no, i mean in general. being with you... it’s so relaxing, and soothing. i like how i am when i’m next to you. i like us a lot. does it feel like that to you too?”

Taemin’s smile in that moment is the loveliest he’s ever given Jongin, & Jongin feels like his entire being is melting into honey.

“Yes, it does. I like us a lot too.”

#fanboy!au #the softness i can't ;;#....#so this was the last post before our break #i hope you liked it ♥♥

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