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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years

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Keep My Wife's Name Out Your Mouth (NSFW 18+)

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: You better not ever disrespect Jackman’s wife in front of him

Synopsis: Jack is excited to be interviewed and go on one of his favorite late night talk shows. However, it takes an unexpected turn when you are brought up in the conversation and Jack has to let him know that disrespecting his wife is off limits.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: the beautiful @badbihk 😘😘

DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE NOT 18+

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Babe, am I actually ready to go before you? That has to be a first. I think we should take a picture and document this for future reference.” You say looking at him in disbelief and he simply rolled his eyes.

“Baby, all I literally have to do is put my shoe on. I’m already dressed.”

“But, I was still ready before you! Both of my shoes are on!”

“Keep telling yourself that baby girl. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Jack replied while leaning down to kiss you as you stood up from the bed.

“Both of us are ready on time so Neelam can’t yell at us.”

“And she better know that this was probably a once in a lifetime thing too and not to get used to it.”

“HEY! I am not that bad!”

“You’re cute, so I’ll let it slide but you definitely are that bad. Have been since high school.”

You rolled your eyes before grabbing your phone and placing it in your back pocket ready to make your way downstairs with your husband.

Private Garden was in New York so all of you decided to tag along to Jack’s interview and simply stay backstage in the green room.

You admit Trevor Washington’s late night talk show was one of your favorites and always kept you entertained. You had never been interviewed by him yourself, but you were definitely open to the idea.

All of you were now settled backstage and Jack was due to go on within the next few minutes.

“I’m hungry!”

“Shloob! I thought you said you were going to get food before we left?”

“I was but then I saw this girl and I had to shoot my shot sooo that took up all of my time.”

“Pussy over food. I like the way you think Shloob.” You said while laughing.

“But I mean pussy technically is food since the whole phrase is eating her out.”

“NO LIES TOLD!”

“I want some pizza. We are in New York after all.”

“No, Chicago is better!” 2fo said while looking up at you in disbelief.

“It’s good, but way too much sauce!”

“The sauce is the best part!”

“Are yall really arguing over pizza?” Neelam asked as she shook her head.

“Yall need to stop because yall are making me hungrier than I was before.”

“We shouldn’t be long. Oh, what about a cheesesteak?”

“Nee, we are not in Philly so that’s a hard no.”

“It’s really not that far.”

“Nee, we are not driving this late at night just so your ass can get a cheesesteak. It’s going to take us like four hours!”

“Not if you drive!”

“You know what, she’s not telling any lies. I hate being in the car with you when you drive. I swear your ass be on two wheels instead of four.”

“But did you die?” You asked while rolling your eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Who taught you how to drive anyway!? I don’t see how you passed your driver’s test.”

“Jack did! And my sister!”

“Oh God.”

“He definitely failed at that shit. You don’t be obeying any type of traffic laws.”

“That can’t be because I actually feel safe when I ride with him.”

“And the fact that you got your license on the first try?”

“URBY! Tell them to stop picking on me!” You turned to Urban who was sitting beside you who was trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, you do kinda be hitting curbs and speeding mamas.”

“I don’t like you either.”

“That’s okay, Y/N, I’d ride with you any day.”

“Thanks Nee, because I am literally surrounded by a bunch of haters.”

“We not hating we’re telling the truth!”

“I still want a slice of pizza.”

“Shloob be patient, damn.”

The interview was underway and going smoothly. Trevor had been asking Jack about his album, tour, who he wanted to do songs with in the future and his favorite things to do to past the time when he's touring and going from city to city.

Then it took an unexpected turn when the conversation turned to you.

Jack loved talking about you any chance that he got, but this was definitely off limits.

"Be honest man, your wife freaky as hell isn't she?"

"Why the.... why are you asking me that?"

All of PG and Neelam had looks of disbelief as they were watching the scene unfold in the green room and you were left speechless and quickly became uncomfortable.

Yes, you would joke around about your sex life all the time with your husband but this just felt... weird.

"Please tell me he didn't just ask that." Quiiso said while looking dumbfounded.

"Jack is about to tear into his ass right now. Shloob send up a prayer on Trevor's behalf."

"Say less because you're exactly right."

They now turned their attention back to the screen to see how Jack was going to react.

At this point, he was clenching his fist and that infamous neck vein was poking out indicating he was now pissed off.

"Come on, we all wanna know. I would kill to have one night with your her."

"Not a chance in hell and you need to stop disrespecting her."

"But, I heard how you share her with your best friend Urban. I'd like a turn."

"And that's my business and not yours."

"Whoa Jack we're all friends here."

You were now extremely uncomfortable and Urban who was sitting closest to you looked on with wide eyes.

"Friends? My friends only show my wife respect which is the opposite of what you're doing right now. So keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth. And you need to stop disrespecting her in front of me. We're done."

It was dead silent and no one knew how to react to what had just happened.

Jack then got up pulling off the microphone that was clipped to him and storming backstage in the direction of the green room.

He stormed into the green room and promptly took your hand pulling you up off the couch while the rest of PG was taking in the scene in front of them.

"Babe..." You quietly said and he didn't even give you a chance to finish your sentence.

"We're leaving. NOW."

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet and awkward.

No one was trying to make eye contact with Jack and he was still fuming.

You were sitting next to your husband and was attempting to get him to calm down but he wasn't having it.

Every time you attempted to hold his hand, he would immediately move away from you and that definitely stung a little bit.

Shloob was the first one to break the silence and of course his mind was on something completely different than what had just happened.

"I'm still hungry, are we getting food?"

"Shloob not now!" Neelam scolded because she didn't want anyone saying anything else to piss Jack off even more.

She had seen in the past how he could get when he was pissed off and that one time she had seen it, it was directed at her for making you cry and hurting your feelings.

She definitely did not want a repeat of that happening tonight.

Once the two of you reached your hotel suite, you immediately reached for him again and he once again brushed you off.

“Baby, don’t.”

“But!”

“I’m not mad at you so please don’t think that. I just... I need a minute. I just can’t believe anyone would even disrespect you like that to my fucking face.”

“But you can’t let him get to you.”

“I should’ve kicked his ass right then and there. No one ever disrespects you like that.”

“But the last thing you want is to bring negative attention to yourself. I think I’ve done enough of that for the both of us.” You said muttering that last part referring to the multiple incidents with Anitta.

One thing about the Harlows is that they don’t play about each other and will tear your ass apart if you decide to get the stupid idea of disrespecting them in any way, shape, or form.

“At this point, I don’t fucking care because it has to deal with you and you know that the one thing I don’t fucking play about is my wife.” Jack was now pacing along the living room area of the suite and you were running out of ideas of how to get him to calm down.

“I know, but I’m going to need for you to calm down.” You said grabbing onto his hand and pulling him into a hug.

“I need to kick his ass, that’s the only thing at this point that will get me to calm down.”

“Let’s just sleep on it, babe. I promise you’ll feel better.”

“Nah, I need you and I’m frustrated. If you don’t want me to kick his ass then that’s the next best thing. I need to take my mind off of it.”

“That’s fine, but I’m seriously going to need for you to calm down. Your heart is literally racing a mile a minute because of how mad you are. And I’m scared as shit because I have literally never seen you so mad before and quite frankly I don’t want to ever again. You can’t let someone upset you that literally has no chance of taking your wife from you. You know that is never going to happen.”

“But why did he feel the need to say that anyway? Especially when that was my first time meeting him? He has no respect for women at all. I mean yes we joke about it all the time, but it was the way he said it that I didn’t like. You don’t know me well enough to be pulling that type of shit and even if he did, everyone around us knows better than to say some shit like that outta their mouths.”

“If I did have to post your bail, me and PG would make shirts that say free Lil Jack Jack.” You said attempting to get your husband to laugh and being satisfied once you had succeeded.

You were still laying your head against his chest and sure enough every since you caught him in your embrace, his heartbeat started to slow down to a normal pace.

You had a hell of an effect on your husband to be able to calm him down in less than thirty seconds.

“You can’t take anything serious can you?” Jack asked while looking down at you and laughing.

“Actually that’s you. I can take plenty of things seriously but I wanted to make my husband laugh and I succeeded.”

“That you did.” Jack said leaning down to kiss you.

“Hmm, besides...”

“Besides, what mamas?”

“He has literally a 0% chance of ever getting that close to me. I heard his dick was small anyway.”

“Wait... how in the world do you know that?”

“SZA fucked him and told us in the group chat. She said 0 out of 5 stars would not recommend and she literally blocked him as soon as she got downstairs in her car. So, you have nothing to worry about.”

“What else goes on in this group chat that I don’t know about?”

“Aht aht! I let it slide because it’s relevant to the situation. Bad bitches only.”

“Hmm, I guess I can let that slide for now.”

“Good, so are you better now?”

“I am, thank you baby.” Jack smiled down at you before kissing your nose and bringing you back into his chest.

“You’re welcome. Anything for you. I just knew you were about to punch him. I was actually waiting for it. You’ve been around me too long so I know my violent tendencies have rubbed off on you a little bit.”

“I was literally so close to doing it but then I could see it now, you would have been running from backstage to jump in and you would have wanted to beat his ass yourself for disrespecting you.”

“You know your wife well, Jackman. No lies told. But...”

“But, what?”

“You’re wearing way too many clothes for my liking.” You said stepping away from him and immediately pulling your shirt over your head. The cool air in the hotel room instantly making your nipples hard and Jack’s mouth instantly watered and you laughed at his facial expression.

“You know every time I do that, you make the same facial expression.”

“Can you blame me? My wife is fine as fuck.”

“Hmm, Jackman, clothes off NOW.”

You simply walked away from him in the direction of the bedroom and he was following close behind you discarding his clothes as he went.

He locked the door behind the two of you and you simply smirked at him.

“Lay down.” You said as you were now discarding the rest of your clothes and throwing them far away from you.

Jack had listened to your directions and he was simply waiting patiently for you as his hands were behind his head.

You slowly climbed on top of him and took in the sight of his precum leaking out and you immediately smirked before taking one long lick with Jack instantly hissing and moving his left hand towards your head to pull you down further.

You were moving him in and out of your mouth at a quick pace when you suddenly had gotten a better idea.

You could tell that his erection was almost painful from how much he was hissing at a simple touch from you and decided the best and the quickest way for him to get some type of relief is if you rode him.

Once you released him from your mouth, he had an instant attitude and rolled his eyes.

“Babe, what the actual fuck? Get your mouth back on my dick now.”

“Be patient, baby and stop whining and lose the fucking attitude because I’ll make you use your hand.”

Jack threw his head back in frustration but was trying to be patient and listen to directions.

“Come on mamas, this shit is starting to fucking hurt and imma be mad as hell if you make me get blue balls.”

“Like that will ever happen.”

“It might if you don’t bring your ass on.”

You instantly rolled your eyes before you moved further up his body and lined himself up with your entrance and slowly guided yourself down instantly hearing moans coming from the both of you.

“Fuckkkkkk! Shit you feel so good.” Jack’s hands immediately went to your hips in order to help guide you as you placed your hands on his stomach.

Sure enough when you found a rhythm that was satisfying enough for the both of you, you increased your pace earning loud moans erupting from your husband’s mouth as well as yours.

“Oh fuck baby. Got damn it!”

All he received in return was whimpers from you as you were focusing on the task at hand.

“Slow down mamas, fuck. I’m about to bust right now if you keep going.”

“That’s the entire point, baby.” You responded while giggling.

One of the greatest sights you loved witnessing was him coming completely undone underneath of you.

“I know but shiiiiiit.”

“I can tell you’re almost there, aren’t you daddy?”

“Fuck, I’m about to tear your ass up for this shit.”

“Hmm, I can’t wait until you do.”

All it took was you increasing your pace a tiny bit more and Jack immediately pushed you off of him with his cum releasing all over your upper body covering your boobs, your stomach, as well as your neck.

“You came a little bit too close to my hair that time, work on your fucking aim.” You said as you rolled your eyes and began to run your fingers across your stomach and chest before placing them in your mouth and Jack instantly becoming hard again at the sight.

“Next time I’ll do it on your face now come here and sit on mine. I need to see that pretty pussy of yours.”

“I need to get the rest of this off of me first.” You said while attempting to get up, but Jack immediately held your hips in place so that you wouldn’t be able to move and you got a confused look on your face.

“Uh, babe?”

“I want every last drop running down your throat. You’re not wiping off shit with a towel. Get to it.”

You smirked and did as you were told, once Jack was satisfied with how much you had gotten off of you, he grabbed your thighs and moved you upward so that you were sitting directly above his mouth.

“You better be a good girl and not be squirming and shit.”

“I won’t.”

“You say that shit every single time and do it anyway.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Stay fucking still.”

You immediately gasped when he took one long lick and he knew to hold your thighs tighter.

“See? You already starting and I barely did anything.”

“Will you fucking hurry up already?!”

“Don’t rush me, mamas or I’ll stop.”

“No you won’t.”

“Are you fucking testing me, Mrs. Harlow?”

Jack’s voice had went an octave lower and he peeked out from under you to look at you and make sure that he had heard you right.

“Umm....”

“Okay, imma remember that shit. Just wait until I’m finished eating you out.”

From that moment forward, Jack literally showed you no mercy.

His hold on you was so tight that you had no choice but to sit there and take it.

You were literally almost in tears because of how good it felt and you had lost count of how many times he had made you cum.

“Babe... I... I... can’t....” You said pleading with your husband to give you a chance to recover before going back in.

“Trust me, you can. Stay still.”

From then on Jack began to suck on your clit and it was all she wrote as you felt a wave of liquid release from you covering his face.

“Damn, mamas. I ate you so good and the last thing I expected was for you to squirt all over me.”

You didn’t even answer him as you were trying to recover and he simply moved you to the side of him so that you could catch your breath.

Not even a minute later, Jack was pulling you up to position you on all fours.

“Jackkkkk.” You whined as you rested your head on top of your arms that were folded underneath you.

“You got one more time to call me the wrong name. Act like you got some damn sense.”

“But....”

“One more, baby you can give me one more.”

“You literally said that the last four times when I was sitting on your face.”

“I don’t see the problem.” Jack responded as he slowly slid into you from behind and you instantly moaning.

“You over here complaining but taking that shit just fine.”

Hmm, two can play that game.

When Jack least expected it, you clenched around him and you noticed that it caught him off guard because his pace instantly slowed.

“Stop clenching me like that mamas, fuck.”

“You can take it daddy.”

“I’m tired of you getting smart with me.”

“Then teach me a lesson.”

Liked by y/ninsta, privategarden, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, saweetie, sza, and 4,278,901 others

jackharlow: one thing you not about to do is disrespect Mrs. Harlow in front of me, so take this as a warning because the next time I won’t be so nice

2forwoyne: I just knew you were about to beat his ass

druski2funny: 2forwoyne me too because he been around y/ninsta too long and I know some of that violence done rubbed off of him

y/ninsta: druski2funny I said the exact same thing lmao 😭😭

sza: lil dick energy

y/insta: sza STOPPPPPP lmao

sza: y/ninsta I warned you

y/ninsta: that you did lol

saweetie: I’m surprised y/n wasn’t waiting outside for him to jump him

y/ninsta: saweetie I would’ve but as mad as jackharlow was he would’ve handled it for the both of us

y/ninsta: jackharlow love the way you protect me, gets me hot and bothered and shit

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta what doesn’t get you hot and bothered at this point?

jackharlow: y/ninsta we just got finished, but if you’re up for another round....

y/ninsta: urbanwyatt be gone thot! jackharlow feed me and I’ll be ready

urbanwyatt: y/ninsta HEY!

jackharlow: y/ninsta shit imma feed you this dick 😏

y/ninsta: he ain’t eat it right if he didn’t have to change the sheets! 🥰

normani: y/ninsta how many sheet changes have yall gone through?

y/ninsta: normani uhh tonight? four 🙈

neelamthadhani: y/ninsta jackharlow is that why housekeeping keeps coming up to the floor?!?! jackharlow GET OFF OF HER LIKE GOT DAMN

jackharlow: neelamthadhani not a chance in hell oh and giveon and trevorwashington take notes because I don’t play that shit. my wife is off limits.

dualipa: jackharlow even for me?

jackharlow: dualipa especially for you. bye. about to eat my wife out.

dualipa: jackharlow LET ME WATCH!

jackharlow: dualipa can’t hear you over all this pussy juice I’m drowning in byeeee

dualipa: jackharlow 🙄

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x you

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claymorexpunisher · 1 year

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Where There's a Will There's a Way (18+ Oneshot)

Pairing(s): Seth Rollins/Fem. Reader

Summary: Fem. reader's physically disabled and her body's not cooperating. But she wants to have fun with her man so she decides to get a bit resourceful in order to do so. 😂😈

Tags: 18+, shower shenanigans, oral sex (male receiving), physically disabled ofc, established relationship.

Word Count: 603

Where there’s a will, there’s a way…

That phrase has followed me all throughout my life, coming out of the mouths of people who just didn’t get it. Who didn’t get what it was like for your body and your mind to not be in sync most days.

But as I watched Seth cross into the shower, the towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, I thought to myself… ‘maybe there’s something to it…’

I was in the mood to please my man. But as much as I wanted to, my body had other plans. My hips and knees were fuckin’ killing me today… but I wasn’t gonna let that stop me from giving him some pleasure.

So, I slowly shed off my clothes and made my way into our bathroom just as he was testing the temperature of the shower and I wrapped my arms around him from behind, running my hand over his toned stopping until I reached lower and began to lightly stroke his cock.

Seth knew I was in pain, so I was fully expecting him to bat my hand away, but it still made me giggle.

“You don’t want me to suck you off?” I murmured teasingly, giving his back open-mouthed kisses, tasting the stream of water that rained down onto both of us. I let my tongue make a lazy pattern over the toned, firm skin and smirked as I heard a pleased noise come from within his chest.

Then he groaned as he moved away from me almost as if it pained him.

“Not if you’re in pain, babe.” Seth said and I couldn’t help but to lean into him and press a tender kiss to his lips.

“I have an idea,” I smirked as his brows raised curiously before I motioned for him to bring my shower chair over and I had him turn it, so my back faced the shower. I giggled again as the realization of what I had planned hit Seth and his eyes lit up before he gazed at me with lewd appreciation.

“Now why the hell didn’t I think of that?” Seth cackled and I shrugged as I sat down on the shower chair and ran my hands along his thighs, biting my lip as he wrapped his hand around my hair, and he leaned down to meet my lips in a hungry kiss.

I let my tongue dance with Seth’s for a moment, before I went back to his cock, giving it the attention that it needed. My tongue circled the head, and I moaned as I felt him harden further in my grip. I gave the shaft firm strokes as my mouth sank down, taking him further. I smiled around his length, looking up at Seth for a moment, watching the muscles in his neck strain as his mouth hung open in a silent moan until the sound eventually left his chest and bounced off the walls of our bathroom.

I teased Seth a little, easing my rhythm a bit as I felt him getting closer to the edge. The tip of my tongue played with his balls before I closed my mouth around one and then the other and sucked lightly, causing him to let out the most delicious guttural groan. His hand tightened in my hair, and I breathed calmly through my nose as his hips met my movements.

I watched him slowly fall apart with a drawn-out groan, making me smirk. My movements didn’t stop until his release spurted on my tongue and my eyes stayed locked on his as I swallowed every last drop…

#seth rollins #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins x female reader #seth rollins smut #wwe smut #seth rollins fic #wwe fic #wwe oneshot #wrestling smut

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writersfearofrecognition · 6 months

Text

Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

A/N: i'm just not gonna say anything lol ._.

Chapter 3:

Something shakes my shoulder.

i open my eyes and look right into Dylan’s.

„wha-?“ „the announcement.“ „Oh.“ i jump up and down my bed, still in my pyjamas, an old football shirt and shorts, and walk after him into the radio station. he’s already dressed completely and freshly showered, i can smell his body wash.

„damn. technical.“ is the first thing that falls out of my mouth when we walk inside the radio hut. „yeah. kinda my…hobby.“ „cool. suits you.“

he laughs while sitting down and setting everything up.

„i guess.“

„more confidence man.“

he shakes his head smiling and gives me the microphone.

„your turn.“

i sigh and think for a second before pushing down on the activation button.

„Good morning campers and counsellors, especially Kaitlyn, who does not need her beauty sleep since she is already beautiful inside and out! today is going to be our last night together and that means…“

i give the mic to Dylan and he rattles down the program with his usual wit.

„now we will all get dressed and ready to eat the wonderful breakfast made by non other than Nicolas the frivolous.“

my laugh could be heard through the speakers and Dylan finishes his announcement with his typical greeting.

when we walk out the door, we were swarmed with children immediately.

„alright guys, who makes it to Nick first, gets the best cooked egg!“ Dylan yells and runs away, kids in tow.

i walk back to my cabin but Jacob already sits at our steps. „hey.“

„hi.“ he jumps up, „do you- do you want to help me today? since you have no activities?“

i hum while walking up the stairs and jump out of Emma’s and Abigail’s way, who scatter to the showers.

„…sure. if i don’t land on your shoulder again. i think i’ll actually puke.“

„oh- i’m sorry. i-.“

„it’s okay Jake,“ i laugh and get on my bra away from him and then take off my sleeping shirt and put on a new one.

„yeah Jake.“ Kait mocks and he groans, she emerges from behind our bunkbed with crazy hair, but surprisingly refreshed.

„Don’t you have to search for a brooding, sexy Ryan?“ Jacob retorts and i giggle at Kait’s expression.

„you can be glad i won’t expose you,“ she points at Jacob who suddenly frowns, „yet.“ she looks at us one last time before walking out. searching for Ryan i assume.

„what was that?“ i ask while putting on my normal boots, my hiking boots could thankfully be abandoned until further notice.

„her usual threats.“ Jacob mutters and resorts his hair under his cap.

„no…those sound different…and you usually not scared of them.“

he laughs awkwardly and shrugs, „well, maybe she’s getting to me for once.“

„hmmm.“ he doesn’t meet my eyes, „isn’t Sunday usually Emma-Day?“ i ask innocently, trying to pry if he got to a conclusion yet.

„well she’s not interested anymore. and me neither. i’m…“ he looks at me with his mouth open, either he doesn’t know what to say, or he encountered a math problem, but right now most likely he doesn’t know what to say.

i laugh and push up his chin.

„don’t want you catching flies.“

he smiles down at me and doesn’t make a move to let me pass him as he stands between the two bunkbeds effectively blocking my way.

„jakey…poo…“ his eyes darken, „we need to get going if i’m going to help you. and your wardrobe body is blocking my way.“

„wardrobe body?“ he asks, smirking.

„yeah, cause you’re fucking thick.“ i say in a deeper tone, imitating the catch phrase of our friend Mark from home, and squeeze past him, getting my water bottle before walking out of the cabin. he stumbles after me.

„if i remember correctly-.“

„Jacob, i’m really hungry, can we go? my description of your body isn’t more important than basic human rights is it?“

„well…“

i groan and grab his wrist, dragging him to the lodge.

we pass the tree and i spot something that makes me double over with laughter.

„what the-.“ Jacob says and walks closer.

„Emma + Jacob for summer… well. those kids are ruthless aren’t they?“

„yeah….we didn’t do that by the way. like the first thing.“

„sure Jakey…“ i walk on, breakfast on my mind.

„it’s the truth!“ „what? that your first romance died tragically?!“ „you’re horrible when you’re hungry!“

i hum and he catches up to me, his hand sneaking into mine again. „do i still have to drag you?“

„yes.“

„jacob…“

„no, i’ll drag you.“ his mind visibly got a light bulb over his head and he ran with me in tow.

„alright, kids, since it’s our last day,“ Jacob makes himself tall and gathers the kids around him on the sport field, „and since i promised you,“ the kids cheer because they know what was coming, „we’re going to play one game of football. only one. for all the marbles. win or lose.“

he points at me sitting at the sideline, also surrounded by kids who were too scared to play, „we have our referee.“ i blow the whistle he had hung around my neck after breakfast, „and the cheerleaders.“ the other kids started clapping.

„did you know our referee used to be a cheerleader too?“ the kids shake their head and look at me.

„only for 2 years, senior year i needed to focus on school,“ i yell from the side line.

„she cheered me on every game.“ he makes his little swinging dance again and the kids giggle.

pure exaggeration from his side.

„alright kids, but i have another surprise for you…because it would be just a little unfair for you to play against me, i’m going to be your coach, but.“ he raises his finger, „you will play against the most inexperienced and clumsiest people in this camp. the other counsellors.“

i laugh out loudly when my coworkers and my boss come on the field. the kids get overly excited and start jumping around.

Jacob explained some different rules, since there were less players on the counsellor team but i was too busy with laughing at Kaitlyn who was most definitely not willingly here. Mr. H. probably forced them all and Jacob got me as a referee because i was a fair judge.

Jacob put his players on the field and it started, Mr. H. was the leader of the counsellor team but the kids had the upper hand for most of the game.

some time before the last break, Jacob wanders over to me with his hands behind his back, totally relaxed and totally up to something.

„miss Referee.“ he starts and the kids around me started giggling.

„yes, Mister Custos?“ i give him a side eye and saw how wide his grin was.

„what do you need?“

„if i wanted you to…look away for some…accidents, how much would that cost me?“

the kids gasp and i raise my eyebrows at him.

„mister Custos, you are a renowned Coach, are you trying to bribe me?“

„no, no, i would never.“ he raises his hands in defence and watches the game for a second. „i wouldn’t call it bribery…more a favour.“

„mhm?“

„but (Y/N)!“ a kid starts but i turn to them and whisper with the kids, „if someone tries to bribe you, you have to listen to the conditions first…who knows what he wants to give me.“

„maybe a kiss!“ one of the kids said and i laugh awkwardly.

„Mister Custos, do you want to kiss Miss (L/N)?“

„eh. that is very unprofessional to ask a world famous football coach.“ i state and stake my head smiling, while Jacob is visibly sweating behind me, the kids giggling even more at him.

„but what was your favour, mister Custos?“ i turn back to him and notice how stressed he looks.

„are you okay?“ i ask truthfully and he nods.

„yeah, eh, the favour…well you could choose.“

„hmmm. team what do we say? one foul for a favour from the wardrobe man?“

the kids giggle at the nickname i had given him today, but most of them agree and the referee is a democracy so i accept.

„One foul play, for one favour.“

„and what would the favour be?“

„we will let you know.“

the kids giggle and Jacob walks away with a thoughtful expression.

it was cute to see him do or watch sports; he was totally in his element.

most assume he was just a stupid jock but he hadn’t been the football captain for nothing. he was smart, he knew how to strategize and was able to make quick decisions, everything needed for a player.

no wonder he’s the one that got the sports scholarship.

i watch him for a while, how he analysed the game he had won the second he put the counsellors on the field.

then he looks over to me and gives me a smile.

and i feel something i had never felt before.

butterflies.

my cheeks start to burn and of course one of my employees immediately notices.

„Did you just get red from Jacob’s smile?!“ „it's mister Custos, and no. i would never. i’m a professional referee, i don’t have the time for crushes during work.“ i state and shake my head, almost offended but the kids laugh and one of them runs to Jacob.

fuck.

now i actually regret agreeing to be referee.

it was better to get killed by kids than get my childhood friend to notice that i, might, a little, well, fuck, that i like him…well…i don’t even know since when. i never saw him as family or anything, there was always the possibility for love…but something’s different right now. maybe because i saw him with someone else?

my eyes switch to Emma who tragically dying to two kids at the moment but jumps up at the last second to evade them and runs off with the ball.

maybe.

maybe i’m just sick.

yeah.

maybe a mosquito bit me and i got some weird illness from it.

yes….yes.

i look at Jacob again and he’s talking to the traitorous kid, the second my eyes are on him, he looks at me and smiles again, a tiny smile. maybe that kid got distracted and is telling him something completely different.

let’s hope for that.

but then his eyes grew bigger and his smile as well.

oh no.

i turn away quickly, right on time for the last break.

the kids run to the water stations and i run with them.

i could hear Jacob jog behind me, but i’m so not ready for that conversation with him, so i get to the first person i thought could hold him off.

Nick. „hey there.“ he said out of breath and i smile at him.

„how many bruises are there?“

he dries his face with his shirt and exposes his abs in the process, „i don’t know. too many. packing will hurt.“

i laugh and hear someone huff behind me.

when we both turn to the water station Jacob has his shirt off and holding it under the cold stream, his eyes are painfully focused on the shirt.

„is he…“

„okay? i don’t know.“ Kaitlyn finishes Nick’s question and takes my still almost full water bottle from my hand and drinks it empty.

„hey-.“

„you cheated and got referee. somehow.“ she huffs and crouches down, completely out of breath.

fair point. but that means i need to fill it up…right where a Testosterone pumped Jakey is waiting.

he was wringing his shirt out when i finally found my confidence again.

i fill up my water bottle silently while he splashes his own body with water.

he’s angry, silent Jacob is angry Jacob.

„Jacob-.“

„i have to coach.“ he says and walks off.

i sigh and Emma appears next to me. „trouble?“ „some kid told him i was blushing because of him, i got embarrassed, hid by Nick and now he’s mad.“

Emma hums and purses her lips. „He’ll get over it.“

„sure.“

but not without a fight.

i sit back down on my spot and watch the game, not really needing to interfere, the kids are obviously in the lead so the counsellors take it easy.

until Jacob switches himself in…

„huh?“ said the kids around me and i shrugs, not really stressed. if he’s on the field he can’t confront me.

„maybe to show them how it’s really done.“

he was playing fair…until he meets Nick on the field.

Jacob doesn’t even have the ball, but he runs towards Nick anyways.

he rams him through the air and i blow my whistle, standing up from shock that he would be this brutal.

„one foul you said.“ he yells from the end of the field and i huff, stemming my hands in my hips.

my feet move before my mind catches up and i storm towards them.

Nick is already standing again and walks in my way to make me stop. „it’s alright, nothing happened,“ he smiles and rolls his shoulders, „i egged him on earlier.“ „still. it’s childish.“ Kaitlyn mutters, already on a fresh trail towards understanding what was going on between me, Nick and Jacob.

i open my mouth and close it again when Jacob passes Nick again and pushes him again. „Dude!“ i shout and grab his wrist, he looks down at me with a hurt expression, not an angry one.

„what’s wrong?“

„nothing.“

„jake…“

Mr. H. clears the situation before i could talk on and he looks at his watch before ordering the kids around.

„alright kids, the game is over, you clearly won, the prize is another hour of playtime at the cabins. come on, let’s go.“ he ushers the kids and other counsellors out but points at me, Nick and Jacob to stay with angry eyes.

i gulp and give Jacob an annoyed look which just made him shrug while Nick massages his shoulder.

„what was that Jacob?“

„nothing. Nick was as rough with me as i was.“

Nick nods along and i frown.

did i misinterpret this whole situation?

Mr. H. sighs and crosses his arms.

„you’re big examples for those kids. so no more…rough fighting, or weird special rules for…whatever you two are. couple or friends i don’t know anymore.“ he points at me and Jacob and lets his head fall in disappointment. „this is the last day, you can follow the rules until then alright ya noobs?“, he says, still not looking at us three.

„yes sir.“ we all say. „sorry, Mr. H.“ i mutter.

he hums and motions us to leave the field, which i gladly follow.

Jacob grabs my arm the second the three of us are out of his sight and drags me away while i protest.

A/N: It's getting spicy... (and i'll actually post the next one right now, no cliff hanger lol)

#jacob custos #jacob custos fanfic #jacob custos imagines #jacob the quarry #idk how to tag stuff

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kpop---scenarios · 3 years

Text

Same Time (2)

Part One | Part Two

Pairing: Changbin x Reader / Minho x Reader

Warning: Angst, Smut

Word Count: 3k

Taglist: @binnieboyswhore @f4ncyvelvet @skittlez-area512 @biaswreckingfics @buttvi @imhyvnjin @wheeintaer @rindomo @lizsvcks @zhaqifa @markswifeu

Unable To Tag: @hwly0ung

You're sitting on your couch, binge watching a drama when suddenly there's a pounding on your front door, which makes you jump. You stand up, walking over to your door and stare at the security camera.. A smile spreads across your face as you see Changbin standing on the other side, his hands full, carrying bags of food.

You open the door, smiling at the man standing before you.

"Hey there." He smiles. "Hungry?" He smirks, raising his eyebrow.

You let out a soft chuckle as your heart flutters, as do the butterflies floating around in your stomach, the grin on your face is hard to get rid of. "Of course I am. You know me too well." You say. Changbin scurries in, placing the food on your kitchen table for heading to the fridge to get the two of you some wine to enjoy with your meal. You grab the plates at whatever cutlery you need to use, setting two places at your table. Both of you sit down, opening the bags of take out, passing the food around until both your plates are full.

As the two of you sit there eating and talking, you momentarily forget that you're not actually in a relationship with this man. You forget that to him, you're just his friend, and to everyone else the two of you are only friends. You forget that majority of the time when he's with you and someone calls, he almost always says he's alone or with someone else. You forget that you're not nearly as important to him as he is to you, and for a moment your heart doesn't hurt quite as much.

You're in your own head as you watch this man who has so much of your heart, and you can see why he does. You could never get tired of looking at him, the way he runs his hand through his hair, exposing his forehead. The way his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a sip of his wine, the crinkles in his nose when he laughs too hard at a joke. You wished he looked at you the same way you looked at him, but you could feel that it was never going to happen. You knew this would be as close as you got to a real relationship with Changbin. And you were okay with that. You were okay with being a pussy to cum inside, as long as he was the one doing it. You knew this wasn't healthy though, you knew you were out of your mind doing this, which is why you had said yes when Minho asked you out, and if he asked you out again, you'd say yes. You knew you needed a way out of Changbin's grip on your heart, but a part of you also didn't want to make him let go.

You shake your head, trying to come out of your own thoughts as you look at him again. "Hey." You smile at the handsome man. "My shower keeps leaking, can you look at it for me?" You ask.

"Sure." He smirks. "After dinner, we can go have a shower and I can look at it. There's something I want to try." He chuckles.

"What's that?" You ask, taking another bite of food.

"Your shower head is detachable right?" He grins.

"It is." You say, a little skeptical.

"Excellent." He whispers. "You know what, we can finish later." He grunts, standing up from the table. He moves around, gripping tightly to your wrist to pull you up, dragging you to the bathroom behind him.

"Strip." He demands as he turns to turn on your shower, making sure it's warm enough. You quickly discard your clothes, stepping into your shower and under the hot water as Changbin gets undressed before joining you in the shower. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, taking your head in between both his hands, kissing you passionately and like he felt more towards you then he let on. He moves one hand down your body, dragging his finger over the curvature of your breast, down your stomach and between your legs. He moves his fingers between your legs, tapping your clit. Your knees buckle as he gently rubs you, his partially hard cock pressing against your bare skin.

Changbin pulls his finger out from between your legs, reaching up to grab your shower head, switching the pressure.

He turns you around, your back flush against his chest, his cock poking your ass. He lifts up one of your legs, resting it on the edge of the tub as he moves the shower head in front of you, spreading your lips with his free hand. Your body spasms as the hard water hits your clit, causing the jolt. Your rest your head on Changbins shoulder as you move your hips, grinding yourself against the water.

"Fuck." You hiss, bringing your hand up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers.

"You like that?" He asks, whispering in your ear.

"Oh yeah." You moan.

You reach your arm behind you, gripping his cock as you stroke him, making him breathe heavily and moan into your ear.

You clench your pussy as the shower head hits you just right, building your orgasm. You've never been able to cum this fast, or felt like you needed to so urgently.

"Cum baby." He moans in your ear, nibbling on your lobe.

"Christ." You cry out, you bend over as your orgasm hits, pulsating through your body as you work through one of the best orgasm you'd ever had.

Changbin quickly stands you up, pushing you against the wall. He reaches down, pulling your legs. You jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes your back against the wall again. He guides himself to you, pushing his cock inside of you, stretching your walls. No matter how many times Changbin fucked you, it still hurt when he pushed his cock inside of you.

Changbin snaps his hips, thrusting inside of you as a quick pace. You knew this fuck would be a quick one, since you already came now it was just about him. He rests his head in the crook of your neck as he fucks you.

You clench your pussy around his dick, making him moan, his warm breath soaking your neck. You wrap your legs around him as tight as you can, helping him push himself inside of you as far as he can.

"Fuck baby." He groans, his hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing.

His body stiffens as he cums, shooting his cum inside your pussy. "Oh god." He groans, slowly thrusting as he comes down from his thigh.

"Fuck your pussy is perfection." He sighs, pulling out of you. You step out of the shower, wrapping yourself up in a towel as Changbin quickly tightens your shower head, stopping the leak. He steps out behind you, with a smile on his face as he wraps himself in a towel.

You lay in your bed with your towel wrapped around you, your damp hair soaking your pillow as Changbin spoons you, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck.

"Ahh." He sighs. "I could stay like this forever." He whispers.

"With me?" You ask, hoping and pleading for the answer you want.

"Of course with you." He murmurs, still nuzzled into you. You both lay there for a moment in complete silence, the sound of your heart beating is the only thing you can hear.

Until his phone begins to ring, loudly. He groans even louder as he rolls over, grabbing his phone. He glances at the caller ID and stands up, mumbling something about taking it in the other room.

You sit up as you listen intently to the conversation he was having. "Hey man, what's up?" He asks.

It's quiet for a moment before you hear him laughing. "Nah man, just at some chick's house." He comments. "Nah, her pussy is immaculate, but she's ....." He laughs,”Where do you get these phrases? But yeah... i guess....It's like watching paint dry."

You feel the lump appear in your throat as tears prick in your eyes. Is that how He truly felt about you? Comparing you to drying paint? You were that boring? This felt like a massive kick in the fucking heart, and you were livid. How could you let him treat you like you were nothing, and just sit back because it's him.

The tears roll down your cheeks just as Changbin rounds the corner, coming back into your room. "Ayn?" He asks, kneeling down so you're face to face. You quickly stand up, knocking him back a bit, leaving him confused. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Don't." You spit through gritted teeth. "Just get out." You whisper.

"What? Why? What did I do?" He asks, standing back up.

"She's like watching paint dry." You quote, looking at him with such pain in your eyes.

"That.. that wasn't about you. I'm just trying to make sure no one knows." He says.

"Yeah, you're really good at making sure no one finds out." You spit. "Just go Changbin."

"Ayn, come on. You're being dramatic."

"Get the fuck out of my apartment." You cry, desperately trying to not throw something at him.

"Fine." He says, putting his hands up. He quickly pulls on his pants and his shirt, heading to the front door to put his shoes on before opening the door. He looks at you one last time to make sure you're serious. You say nothing to him as he scoffs, closing the door behind him with a partial slam.

You head back to your bed, plopping down as your tears freely flow onto the sheet that he had just been laying in. Your heart hurt and you didn't want it to anymore. As you sniffle your phone rings. You crawl to grab it, immediately perking up when you see that it's Minho calling. You take a large breath before answering his call.

"Hello?"

"Hey you." He says. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, now." You laugh. "And you?"

"I'm good.. listen." He pauses. "I had a question for you?"

"Okay?" You reply.

"Would you have dinner with me tomorrow?" He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice through the phone.

"I'd love to." You eagerly reply.

"Excellent. I'll pick you up at 7pm. Sleep tight, Ayn." He says before hanging up the phone.

Suddenly, your heart didn't hurt quite as bad.

The next night you were getting ready for your date with Minho, and you had heard nothing from Changbin all day but were you really surprised after what had happened the night before. As you put on the finishing touches of your lip stick, there's a knock at your door. A smile immediately spreads across your face as you grab your purse and make your way to the door. You open it to reveal a very nicely done up Minho.

"Hey you." He smiles, reaching out his hand for you to take. "You look absolutely gorgeous."

Your smile widens at his sincere compliment. You take his hand and allow him to lead you out of your apartment and down to his waiting car.

On the drive over, you and Minho laughed until you couldn't breathe, and you were never short in conversation. There wasn't a moment in the car where there was any silence, unless it was from the momentarily silent laughter that came from the two of you.

The restaurant was no different. The two of you were seated at a table and the conversation just continued to flow. Minho was so easy to talk to and he understood your jokes, he laughed at your silly comments and he made you feel alive, something you hadn't felt in a really long time.

"So then I look at him and I'm like, what the hell are you doing?" He laughs. You took a bite of your food, shaking your head at the story he had just told you, trying to hold in your laughter with your full mouth.

"You two are too much." You say after swallowing your food and taking a sip of your water.

Minho looks at you for a second, gently smiling as your eyes lock. "I'm really happy you said yes." He tells you, a blush spreading across his face.

"So am I. I'm having a really great time." You admit, putting your fork down. You look down at your plate before looking back up, your eyes looking just past Minho and landing on someone who looked very familiar. You squint your eyes, hoping that they're playing tricks on you but they aren't.

You see Changbin a few tables away, sitting across from a woman with long dark wavy hair and a figure you would die for. They're laughing and drinking, and your mood completely changes. Your heart sinks to your stomach, you can't help but wonder who she is.

Minho turns his head, looking to where you are and sees Changbin. "Oh hey. I didn't know he was coming here." Minho laughs.

"Who is he with?" You ask, trying to remain casual.

"Hwasa. They mess around every now and then, I think he likes her though." Minho laughs.

You nod your head as you fight the tears that so desperately want to roll down your cheeks. "Are you okay?" Minho asks, looking worried at you.

"Yeah.. yeah I'm good. Can we go? I just need to go." You say, forcing a smile.

Minho doesn't say anything else but waves down the waiter, getting both of your food packed up and pays the bill. He slides his arm around your waist as the two of you leave and honestly you felt so comfortable with him being so close to you. You really liked it.

You and Minho sit in his car and you try to think of a way to apologize to him for cutting the date short. "Hey." He starts. "I promised a friend I'd stop by his party for like half an hour. Do you want to come?" He asks, hopeful that you'll say yes. He really wasn't ready to say goodbye to you just yet.

A smile spreads on your face. "Sounds great." You answer. Minho happily starts the car, heading off to his friend's party.

You're uncomfortable.

You follow behind Minho through a crowded house, the smell of weed lingering in the air as well as sweat, from the people dancing in the living room. You're happy the music isn't too loud, you're able to hear important conversations.

Minho stops, casually greeting a group of women, who begin to whine his name.

"Minho, my baby." One woman pouts. "Where have you been?" She asks, stroking his arm.

"Busy with work." He laughs, slyly removing his arm from her grasp.

"You never called me, like you promised." Another one slurs, waving her finger in his face. She moves her finger down to his chest, resting her hand there.

You feel even more uncomfortable, like this is definitely something you shouldn't be seeing right now. Maybe this was a mistake coming here, you most definitely felt like the fifth wheel with these three beautiful women standing in front of him. Why would he have asked you out then? He had all these options and he chose to settle with boring you?

Your intrusive thoughts continued to fill your brain, telling you that you weren't anywhere near good enough for Minho, that he must have been so bored on the date with you. Maybe everything was in your head? The laughing, the jokes, maybe it was all forced on his side. Your head drops as you begin to feel even worse. This night was a bust.. until, Minho seemed to prove you wrong.

He awkwardly chuckles at the forward advances of the women in front of him, reaching behind him to look for you. You reach your hand out, grabbing onto his and he pulls you forward, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"I've been busy ladies, with this beautiful woman. This is Ayn, my date this evening, and hopefully many more to come." He smiles. "Now if you'll excuse us." He finishes, moving past the shocked looking women, holding you closely as he continues to search for his friend.

You and Minho sit outside your apartment complex in his car, your hands linked together. You didn't want to let go, you didn't want to go inside and have the date end but you knew it needed to.

"I had a really great time tonight, Ayn." Minho blushes, looking you in the eyes.

"Did you?" You whisper.

"Of course. You're so fun to be with." He grins, which of course makes you smile back at him.

"Would you.." you pause. "Want to get together in a few days?" You ask, your stomach twisting as you wait for his answer.

"I'd love to, but we have a pretty strict schedule until next week. But you know what, why don't you come and watch us? I'd love to have you there." He exclaims, getting excited about the idea. "I've always wanted to have you come watch me." He shyly says.

"I would love to!" You pipe up. "Is that allowed?"

"I don't see why not." He chuckles. "Changbin brings Hwasa there all the time." He says, so casually.

Your heart sinks.

You really weren't good enough for Changbin, were you?

You force a smile and nod your head. "So are he and Hwasa like.. serious?" You casually ask.

Minho laughs. "I've never seen him actually be serious about anyone before. Hwasa is the only one he's ever taken on dates. Not the girls he.." Minho shakes his head and chuckles. "Says are as interesting as watching paint dry."

Your heart almost stops at hearing that phrase. You had only ever heard it come from one other person, Changbin.

It was just a coincidence, right?

#noonasinnetwork #kpopscape #seo changbin #lee know #minho #changbin #minho smut #changbin smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids #changbin stray kids #minho stray kids #kpop idols #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop imagines

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

Note

I suck at writing dialogue.

Any advice, senpai?

Ok *rolls up sleeves* I have 10 tips!

1. Give characters individual vocal characteristics.

2. People don't write and speak in the same way.

3. Read the sentence in one breath.

4. Think about what the character would say and wouldn't say.

5. Characters interact differently with different people.

6. Use Dialogue to show what's happening and people's opinions on it.

7. Mind the dialogue tags.

8. Avoid cliche phrases.

9. Avoid saying obvious things.

10. People often don't respond logically or answer questions.

I've elaborated everything below and cut for length.

1. Give characters individual vocal characteristics.

LWJ has his famous 'mn' and I tend to use 'aiya' with WWX to showcase his casual manner of speaking. Nailing character voices at first is important to create natural dialogue. Clear vocal characteristics help readers identify one person from another, especially if you don't want to overuse identifiers like names or pronouns.

2. People don't write and speak in the same way.

People will sometimes skip articles, forego a few grammar rules, and will almost always shorten words and sentences wherever possible. Instead of saying, 'I'm hungry, I want to eat' most people will say, 'I'm hungry, want to eat' Remove all unnecessary words from the dialogue as much as possible, even if the character is considered talkative.

Use italics if you want to emphasize, ellipses to highlight pauses and indicate hesitation, dashes to also highlight sharper pauses. Use them instead of saying words to describe the situation.

3. Read the sentence in one breath.

When you finish writing the dialogue, read it out loud to see if you can say it in one breath. If not, add a pause or a full stop at appropriate places.

4. Think about what the character would say and wouldn't say.

LWJ speaks very efficiently. He always makes his point without speaking too many words. You wanna condense such a character's sentences as much as possible - without making him sound robotic because afaik, he doesn't sound stiff and robotic in Chinese (i may be wrong). WWX, on the other hand, is liberal with his speech but he's not verbose. To me, he doesn't say unnecessary words either, he just tends to elaborate more than LWJ does.

Before you create dialogue for any character, you'll need to understand what is characteristic and uncharacteristic for a person to say.

5. Characters interact differently with different people.

A person's tone will change based on who they're talking to. WWX will be more open and playful with LWJ, he'll take on a more mature edge when interacting with the juniors, he'll be distant and respectful with LXC, and distant but with an edge of sharpness with LQR.

Examples from the first chapter of Trapped and Patient

With WQ - "This is madness." He protests, "You're giving me too much credit!" With a stranger - Wei Wuxian taps on the table, smiling at the notes as the wine bottle is placed in front of him, "My friend, does that man come here often?"

With JYL - “Shijie! You know how restless I get,” His voice is cheerful, “What can I do here? I’m just sitting on my hands and languishing while everyone else is out there, preparing for war-”

With Sect Leader Yu - Wei Wuxian frowns, “Very well, I’d like to personally speak with them before I accept any sort of offer.”

With LXC - “I will tell you all, of course.” He assures and looks around, “I heard a few rumors and decided to offer my services to you and Chifeng-zun.”

With LWJ - "Lan Zhan! Lan er-gongzi!" He greets, elated, "I missed you!"

Everyone's tone changes based on who they're addressing and what kind of situation they are in.

6. Use Dialogue to show what's happening and people's opinions on it.

In T&P - Ch - 2 - WWX and LQR have a conversation and WWX says this:

He glances at Lan Qiren, “You have been in my position before, Elder Lan, was it a privilege?”

With it, WWX is able to explain his position in a way that is relatable to LQR, establish a connection with LQR, and lay the foundation for their relationship down the line.

LQR's response is an indication of acceptance and truce. It is also a conversation between adults instead of an elder and a teenager. If I played my cards right, I have showcased that LQR's perspective has shifted and WWX has grown enough and is cautious of his new position to take LQR seriously like he didn't before.

“Good. It is past time you live up to your potential, Wei Wuxian.”

Dialogue can establish the foundation of relationships better than paragraphs worth of description can and it does it in a way that is more personal.

7. Mind the dialogue tags.

He said, she said, etc, are sometimes necessary and sometimes they're not. If you can clearly identify the speaker, there's no need to add the tag. If the conversation is a rapid-fire exchange of words between two parties, you can forgo tags entirely.

He grins sheepishly, “I seek advice from you against his wishes, Zewu-jun. Forgive me for being a bit anxious.”

Lan Xichen waves his hand, “We’re both older brothers, are we not?

“Tell me about your new cultivation. It is remarkable.” There’s genuine interest in Lan Xichen's voice, “Where did you come up with the idea?”

“You’ll laugh,” Wei Wuxian says-

This dialogue uses the tag 'WWX says' only once and the rest of the conversation doesn't have it. Be conscious of the tags and where you use them.

8. Avoid cliche phrases.

Few things pull a reader away from a story than cliche phrases that people will rarely utter in their life. An exchange like this - "Why are you doing this?" - "Because I love you, damnit!" has become too common and isn't as effective as it used to be, especially when a character is confessing for the first time.

Best way to avoid cliche or cringy dialogue is to read the sentence out loud and consider whether it sounds natural.

9. Avoid saying obvious things.

If you've already written a paragraph on how eerily quiet a forest is, there's no need for a character to say - "It is quiet here isn't it?" Especially if the character is someone like WWX or LWJ, who are naturally observant. Don't let your character explain everything you have already described in text unless they need to explain it to someone.

10. People often don't respond logically or answer questions directly.

People tend to not answer questions directly. Even in serious conversations, they'll go about it a round-about way.

Wei Ying is silent for a while before he laughs softly, "Aiya, Lan Zhan, I already know what you wish to ask." Wangji waits patiently for permission and Wei Ying huffs and nods, "Yes, you may."

"What did you eat?"

Wei Ying picks up Wangji's hands and presses a gentle kiss on them, lacing their fingers together. He lingers for a moment before sighing, "My Hanguang-jun doesn't deserve to hear of such grim things."

Wangji curls his fingers because that might as be a confirmation. His heart breaks for his beloved and he closes his eyes, "Your husband wishes to know, Wei Ying."

"Mostly some small critters, Lan Zhan," he admits, "Sometimes I'd dig up roots of trees. They were softer and easier to consume. I managed to catch a few birds. Bugs, earthworms, maggots, crickets- they were plentiful.

WWX doesn't give a straightforward reply without LWJ coaxing things out of him. Characters lie, deflect, evade, blurt out excuses. LWJ consciously doesn't interrupt people but it is natural for people to interrupt each other's conversations too. Sometimes people will take a frustratingly long time to get to the point. You need to incorporate that.

"Hanguang-jun, surely you understand! Our village has faced draught ever since these children arrived and we finally know why! The Gods are displeased with us!"

Wangji looks at the children, feeling a stir of concern at their wan faces. They've already been beaten black and blue by angry villagers.

"I'll be taking the children," Wangji looks at his husband in surprise but doesn't voice any objections. It is rare for Wangji to deny his husband anything these days and Wei Ying's desires are often simple things, easy to fulfill with the greatest pleasure.

No one directly replies to the person who has spoken. That's also a common thing. Every question or comment doesn't need reciprocation to carry dialogue.

Of course, this is my amateur attempt. I would also recommend doing some online research. Hope this helps?

#reader asks #unofficial writing advice?

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nyctolovian · 3 years

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Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mikotoba Yuujin/Sherlock Holmes | Herlock Sholmes, Mikotoba Yuujin & Sherlock Holmes | Herlock Sholmes, why isn't there a platonic tag for them.... Additional Tags: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Canon, Regret, Guilt, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Y'know, just dudes accidentally being dads.

Yuujin apparently didn't have to worry about knocking the door at 1am because he didn’t even have to wait for more than 2 seconds before the door swung open to an already chattering man. Sholmes had a frown on his face as he talked animatedly, "... checked with me! It is incredibly late. There had better be a proper reason why you would require me to open the door for you at this time. What would you do had I been asleep? You most definitely have your key with you so I don't see why you couldn't just…" He trailed off as his eyes travelled downwards to the bundle in Yuujin's arms.

A small pudgy hand stuck out from the folds of the towels. Sholmes' gaze travelled quickly from Yuujin's arms, to his face, to the large medical bag on the floor and to his hands before sighing. "Hm… I see." Wasting no time at all, he stepped aside for the exhausted Japanese man and closed the door without a single fuss.

Yuujin supposed that was the good thing about Sholmes, you didn't need to explain too much to him. And Yuujin couldn't be more grateful for this trait of his tonight; he was in no mood for explaining anything.

Cradling the infant, he sat down on his bed, which creaked under his weight. The baby made a noise as she gazed up at him with wide eyes. For a second, the blue in her eyes shifted to a familiar brown he hadn’t seen in ages, and Yuujin felt a pang in his chest. He tore his eyes away from the child and said, "I- Well, I believe it's, um, her meal time. Herlock, could you make something for her?"

Sholmes followed Yuujin's gaze to the large bag he came in with. "Where did you get it from?"

"The… The mother had it prepared at her home. And I simply… took it."

Sholmes froze mid-bend to look at Yuujin quizzically. "But that would mean…" He caught himself and shook his head.

Yuujin didn't know what conclusion Sholmes had drawn from that but knowing him, it was probably scarily close to the truth.

“It pains me to admit, my friend,” Sholmes said, holding up the bottle and the bag of baby food, “but it seems even my brilliance may have its limits when it comes to the art of making infant food without instruction.”

“Ah,” Yuujin said as he gently placed the child on the bed. “Right. Of course.” After making sure she was nicely settled, he got up with a sigh. God, how much of an old man he was behaving right now, especially when there was an eighteen-year-old around him daily as a direct comparison. He gestured for Sholmes to join him as he prepared the food, describing the process as they went along.

As he shook the bottle, Sholmes asked, “You are teaching me all this because you intend to leave her in my care, don’t you?”

Yuujin flinched. “I… Well…”

To be asked so directly… but that always was the way with Sholmes, was it not?

After taking in a deep breath, Yuujin admitted, “Truthfully, yes. I presume that Jigoku and I might be deported soon and I can’t take this child with me… I am supposed to only care for her temporarily but…” Yuujin had no idea what Genshin had meant. What on earth did he mean when he said, ‘if something should happen to me’? None of it made sense… God, his head hurt.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to focus. “Hopefully, it will not come to it but I have to prepare for the worst. I can’t put this child’s future on vague hopes.”

Sholmes looked back at the infant lying on the mattress and Yuujin recognised the flicker of apprehension in his eyes. His heart squeezed with guilt.

“I’m sorry. This is a lot to ask of you. You’re the first person I thought of but I know I… I am being incredibly selfish." He shook his head. "Please do forget it, Sholmes. I shall look for alternatives. You needn't worry yourself with this."

Before Yuujin could say another word, however, the child on the bed began to wail. He snapped into action, rushing to the child. Gently, he cradled her again and rocked her. “Are you hungry? Don’t worry. We have food,” he cooed. He gestured for the bottle and Sholmes handed it to him.

Carefully, he cocked the bottle to the infant and pressed the nipple to her lips. The crying slowed quickly and the child began to suck at the nipple. She was suckling with such ferocity that Yuujin couldn’t help but laugh at the adorable little face she was making. This baby girl was going to grow up strong, he could already tell.

He thought of the baby—ah, no… she must be 6 years old by now; no longer the baby he had left in Japan… Thinking about it made him so very tired and guilty. That made it a total of two children.

Two children whose mothers he could only watch lose their lives to childbirth, unable to do anything as he cried for hours after. Two children who would grow up without fathers because one was killed by the Professor, and the other spent every day on the brink of complete and utter resignation before he was whisked away to a foreign land. Two children he was leaving in the care of others again, because he was incapable. Two children who were supposed to be his responsibility, placed under his care, yet he had abandoned—was going to abandon—them.

What a useless man he was. He failed at being a caretaker of these children. He was meant to be a father but now it felt like a title he didn't deserve—

“Can I try?” Sholmes broke Yuujin's train of thought, voice quieter than usual.

“Ah, of course.” Yuujin shuffled closer to Sholmes, who took the bottle. The infant’s eyes widened and her lips trembled as the nipple slipped out of her mouth for a second. But Sholmes returned the bottle to the infant, who resumed her suckling with what seemed almost like increased fervour.

“Do not worry,” Sholmes said. “I’m not taking it away from you. You need not react with such sadness and worry!”

“She’s just an infant,” Yuujin chided lightly. “She wouldn’t know otherwise.”

“That's right…” Sholmes said. “Your experience of the world is not even 24 hours! There is very much for you to learn, isn't there?”

Yuujin nodded, but his chest was welling up with worry. Not even 24 hours in the world and, already, her life was looking so… bleak. What on earth was Genshin even going to do?

No, Yuujin would wait. Genshin looked like he had a plan. Surely, he was needlessly worrying.

But the next day, Yuujin heard nothing about Genshin other than the news that he had been executed. So he waited for whatever arrangements Genshin might have gotten to pull through. But days stretched to weeks before, as Yuujin had predicted, the exchange was called off officially and all Japanese students were to be deported. And Yuujin was certain that there was no more hope left.

"It's a bit sad that you still haven't got a name, isn't it?" Sholmes said, lifting the baby up. "After all this while."

The baby let out a joyful noise.

"Actually… I've been calling her little Iris for a while. I-In my head," Yuujin admitted. It hadn't felt right for the baby to be completely nameless. But it hadn't felt right to actually name her either.

"Little Iris?"

"Yes, Iris. Um… named after my… wife, Ayame. But in English," Yuujin said sheepishly. It felt silly now, but two weeks ago, as he held the child and whispered to her gently, he wondered if giving the baby the name of his dead wife might mean she'd be watching over her too. Perhaps she'd protect the child from any more tragedy and harm. Like some sort of protection charm.

Yuujin hoped it wasn’t too selfish, asking his wife to watch over two children like this.

"Iris…" Sholmes repeated. He turned to the child with a smile. "Your Papa has given you a good name, hasn't he?"

Yuujin felt his ears grow hot.

"I'm not her Papa, Sholmes," Yuujin said in a mix of exasperation and fondness, shaking his head. "I thought that much was obvious."

“You worry so much over her, you’re practically her Papa. Don’t pretend like you don’t peer into her cot almost every hour just to smile at her,” Sholmes said.

Yuujin sputtered in mortification, but he had no leg to stand on in this argument.

"Besides, as far as I'm concerned, we're Iris' fathers now," he said. "I'll be taking care of her from now on after all."

Jaw dropping, Yuujin stuttered, "You'll be… what? No, there's no need to do that. I'll search for someone else before I leave. You don't need to do this."

"It's quite alright, my friend!" Sholmes said. "I, the great detective, am clearly a natural at many things including taking care of infants. You can leave Iris in my very attentive and gentle care!"

"But that is simply too much to ask of you.” Yuujin’s heart felt heavy, dripping with guilt and distress. “I’ll try—"

"Nonsense!" Sholmes huffed. "Nothing is too much to ask of me. While I was frankly quite worried at first, time has proven that I have quite a knack for taking care of children. It will be fine."

"No, it's not right to burden you with this. I shall look for alternatives—"

"Surely, you won't be so cruel as to separate us!" Sholmes interrupted. "We get on so well after all. Like a house on fire, wouldn't you agree?" He lifted Iris to eye-level, and she gurgled excitedly.

Yuujin pursed his lips. He sure hoped this was just one of those strange English turn of phrases, rather than something literal. He had been the unfortunate witness to how "on fire" Sholmes could turn a house before.

Noticing the worry still etched upon Yuujin's face, Sholmes said in a more sombre tone, "Truthfully, that night, I was honoured to be the first person you've consulted about this. It spoke volumes of the faith you have in me. And now, I truly do wish to care for Iris… A part of me also thinks that it would be rather nice if… when you come back, you could come home to me and Iris both. And I know how much you’d worry about her back in Japan." He smiled softly at Yuujin. "What do you say, my dear partner?"

“I…” Yuujin gazed at Iris, his eyes burning with the threat of tears again. “Thank you so much, Sholmes."

#dai gyatuken saiban #dgs #the great ace attorney #tgaa #ace attorney #homumiko #angst #hurt/comfort #sorta #fanfic #herlock sholmes #sherlock holmes #yujin mikotoba #mikotoba yuujin #my writing

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the-darklings · 2 years

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The otp ask thing for clara/augustin? pretty please? I'm so curious about augustin, he's on my mind at least once a day ngl. The way you write characters is so mesmerizing and I can't wait to finally read ASE and get to know all the characters more; You're doing amazing and please keep feeding us amazing content <3

oof this was such a surprise but a really lovely one? thank you sm, anon!! so i should preface this by saying that while clara/augustin canonically have a very complex relationship, it's not an inherently romantic one because he's Like That™ (hence my inclination towards ot3 personally) but there's more than enough meat on the bones to make this vvv interesting to explore. hope you enjoy!!!

1. What are things they both find funny?

augustin finds anyone who isn't them to be an insect beneath his feet, so everyone is either annoying or hilarious to him. if it's someone particularly irritating, they might both enjoy an inside joke.

2. If they could each describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?

augustin: honestly kind of hard to pin this one down since I imagine his feelings are too complex to accommodate only one sentence, but def something along the lines of 'his' and 'loyal'. clara: "chessmaster." (take that as you may)

3. If they complimented each other, what would they say?

augustin has a mean vanity streak so he very much enjoys it if clara compliments his appearance, and often. she in particular likes his golden hair when it catches the sun. it still amazes her how angelic/boyish augustin appears despite his personality being the exact opposite, and how well he employs the misconception to his advantage. for him, if praise is earned, it boils down to her intelligence and ruthlessness far more than outright appearance. he's grown up as essentially an aristocrat, so while looks always matter, he knows better than most how hollow and empty beauty can be.

4. What would be their ship name?

never really picked one for them. but now that I'm sitting here, something like augara maybe? their ship tag is i'd let you win, deriving from the phrase 'as long as you play my game, i'll let you win.'

5. What activities do they enjoy together?

clara doesn't know a lot. she never finished school and has a mountain to catch up on. she's also very hungry to learn which is something augustin fully indulges in. he likes the attention and being her source of learning and bettering herself. with each lesson, she evolves and becomes a little bit more like them, like him, and he very much enjoys that. they have hours-long discussions whenever they're both back at the manor where they debate a wild number of topics. he also teaches her to play chess and later down the line tries to show her way around a piano. likewise, he finds her poison and plants rather fascinating, so he's the top person she can discuss the deadly and the impossible with without exhausting him since their hunger for knowledge is equally matched.

6. What is/are their love language(s)?

augustin won't, uh, be very good with any of these tbf since he's not really a man who has 'love' in his dictionary. however, gift-giving and quality time are ones he would probs do best at. for clara, acts of service since she works for him and it's a dangerous job. her loyalty is the one thing he doesn't question though.

7. Write a ~300-word love scene for them.

“Five moves.”

Clara frowns at the warning. Brows dipping inwards, her nose scrunching, and hazel eyes several shades darker—her concentration is palpable. Shrewd scrutiny gliding back and forth across the board. Augustin can practically hear her mental gears working and grinding, and leaning his cheek against his folded fingers, finds himself biting back a smug smirk.

He does enjoy this though. Seeing her so focused, so guileful, is testament to years of work he’s poured into her. She’s grown in all aspects from starving, gaunt nobody he found wandering those gardens. One thing that remains unchanged is her unfaltering stubbornness though.

She hasn’t won once against him, yet still she battles. Over and over again. Her drive has certainly taken her this far. Proven itself to be a fine weapon in her arsenal. She keeps evolving and, as such, she keeps growing into a stronger and stronger opponent with each shedding of old skin.

Rather poetic. Certainly his finest work still.

“No rush,” he drawls, legs crossed and marble chess board caught mid-battle between them. “I’m sure next season will come and go before you’re done.”

“I don’t rush you,” she grumbles. “Nice try though.”

His lips twitch. “All is fair in love and war, isn’t that what they say?”

“Who says that?

He shrugs, sliding his gaze down where her full bottom lip is caught between her teeth. “Those who lose in both.”

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

mutual "oh?". while his was mixed with keen interest to prod and see how sharp her instincts were (basically if she was worth his time at all), for her, it was mixed with a healthy amount of wariness/unease but beneath that arousing fascination.

9. Have they made each other cry?

nope, but he's the top contender make anyone cry lmao.

10. Write a ~300-word argument scene for them.

“Augustin, please.”

“Do not beg,” he seethes quietly, disgusted, his voice a whip. “It’s beneath you.”

Clara stalks after him, refusing to stare at his back. He’s the one who always insisted that if she wishes to be treated as an equal, she has to stand as an equal with them.

“I’m not,” she defends, sighing. “I’m negotiating. Let me handle it. I’ve been working on something. It will loosen his tongue. His wife and daughter have nothing to do with this. There’s no reason to involve them.”

Even if they are the quickest, surest way to get information they need, she can’t. Jean has dug deep and found nothing. The wife is an average woman who loves her daughter more than the world. She’s not guilty for her husband’s sins. Perhaps it is weakness, or a show of love—protectiveness—she saw the woman display when it came to her child with her own eyes, but she doesn't want them harmed. Clara doubts the time crunch is making her case appealing to Augustin, but she will be damned if she just folds.

Their footsteps meld as they cut through the vacant manor hallway, this time entirely out of beat. Jagged and opposing. Just like their stances on the matter.

“Fine,” he declares flatly. “You have a day.”

Granted to her as a test and not mercy.

Augustin pauses but Clara still exhales in relief, shooting him a grateful look. A day will be difficult but he’s thrown harder challenges her way in the past. He levels his dark, cold stare on her, grasping her chin between his fingers. His touch tingles her skin, tingling and electrifying, her eyes hooding when he leans closer.

“For your sake, I hope your little concoction works, Clara,” he whispers darkly. “You know how much I hate repeating myself.”

11. What causes them to fight?

they have pretty converging moral standings. while clara is ruthless and can kill at a drop of a hat if needed, she still has personal moral limits and lines she won't step over. for augustin, no such lines exist. people are pawns, tools, and they're only useful if they serve his goals. the moment people cease being of use, they usually also cease existing. while they both disagree with each other, they are usually respectful of each other's different moral grounds. if anything, they find it interesting discussing these topics and trying to make the other see each other's perspective. while fights are rare, real and unplanned situations where these principles are challenged is the most likely cause for fights.

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

no, but if they do these are heavily debated.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

for clara, it's stuff like killing jean/ramona, anyone at the pit etc. for him, I honestly don't ever see him saying words 'I love you.' - it's just not him.

14. What would be a dealbreaker?

it's vvv easy to lose augustin's favour. one wrong action/sentence and you cease to exist in his eyes. he's not really the type to hand out second chances either. I think outright disloyalty would be a massive blow for him since it's the one quality he lauds in her more than others (aside from intellect/ambition). for her, it's feeding back to 13, if he killed anyone she loves deeply, she might try to forgive but won't be able to do so, especially if it's someone really close to her heart.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

she cares so damn much he's honestly a little disgusted by it initially. a lot of augustin's own aversion to caring/bonds/attachments stems from his childhood and being ruthlessly and repeatedly taught that no such bonds should ever exist between him and other people. while her ability to bond with people genuinely is incredibly useful/beneficial to him, he's just a bit resentful of it even if he would never admit to it. he's feared, but she's loved - eventually he begins to wonder which is more powerful. for clara, while she understands, his inability to care for anyone to a point he's willing to sacrifice anyone for his ambition is often difficult to comprehend.

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other?

tbh they won't really have a boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic, so breaking up isn't really a thing that would happen. but, to be frank, only death could separate anyone from augustin. if he sees you as his own, you exist in his sphere. so no matter what distance clara tried to put between them, his shadow would always follow her step. he won't need to follow her physically, harm her, or do anything other than let her live. he's in her head, and that's enough.

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

for augustin: sunlight, jasmines, earth, poison, the rustling of book pages, curiosity, satin one second & woollen jumper another, bird mid-flight, footsteps beside him, corruption, sweet, warm laugher, seed blooming into a deadly flower, white rook piece, molten wine, viper coiling in the sun.

for clara: horizon (will make sense with ase context), moody piano music, moonlight/Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, soft smiles/cruel eyes, chess pieces scraping across the board, ink, secrets, ambition, cage, darkness, smeared shadows, icarus with his golden hair & burning wings.

18. What would be their love motto?

not sure they would have one tbf

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

those two would never get married for many reasons. for one, augustin is not the marrying type period, but also clara would know better than to expect it from him. at best, if it were to be done, it would be nothing but a ruse to achieve something beneficial.

20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

she's definitely likely to promise she would stick by his side no matter what (and boy would that be tested lmao)

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

while clara would certainly do well in balancing augustin to a point (challenging him, keeping him busy from his destructive moods, being equally as hungry and always eager to learn more, providing him with slightly more patience for others, if only a crumb, and being a definition of his 'good side', however minute and eroding) she would inevitably be the one more affected by him. honed. sharpened. under his tutelage, she only grows that much more ruthless and above all else vvv good with people. he teaches her how to read others and how to bend those weaker than her to her will. in the case of them actually being in a "relationship" it would be a case of gradual, dangerous corruption. while clara's heart could never be entirely destroyed, augustin would blacken it to fit his own sooner or later. not by force or manipulation but by the natural progression of her surviving by his side.

22. If their lives were what was originally intended at birth, would they have still fallen in love?

I actually really surprised myself by sitting here and really pondering this for a solid minute, only to realise that, yes - yes, they would. augustin is pretty much what life intended him to be (there is one other avenue that might have come to pass but that's spoilers for ase and we might be able to return to this concept at a later time) but it's augustin who first spotted clara at her absolute lowest (starved, uneducated, a tool) and saw more in her. even had she had a normal life not twisted by crime and they simply met somewhere randomly, she might be slightly less hungry initially (likely not realising her own potential) but her intelligence is still there (it would arguably be even more present since she would not have been as deprived growing up), so yes, I think he would still see that initial spark that caught his interest. someone who has little fuelled by a steep hunger for more. the rest would just be him moving the pieces so she's by his side.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

Augustin’s fingers glide over the ivory keys with elegance and rage that binds Clara to her spot as usual.

She’s not truly here, at the manor, she’s not anywhere that isn’t wherever his woven melody takes her. Not one melody is the same, she knows, no familiar tune played with the same sentiment twice. And indeed the mere mention of the word ‘sentiment’ would likely prompt a scoff from Augustin if she voiced it. She never does speak during these sessions. These instances are private, hers and his, connecting them without words. She doesn’t like sharing them, marring them with an insistent human need to speak. To fill the quiet. His music does the speaking, and she does the listening. Years ago, when she first found her way into this lonely, barren room where nothing but a single grand piano stands, he didn’t force her to leave because she respected said silence.

A note lingers—somber, deep—and his eyes cut to her, silver burning in the pale moonlight. Cutting, hollow—they’re no better than her sharpened blades, so lovingly honed. Augustin tracks her breaths, her exhausted mien, all while he plays. She hates missing his sessions, but more often than not she falls into her poison work for hours, wandering back to the manor long after the sun has set and its monstrous occupants have succumbed to slumber.

Sometimes she likes to imagine he waits longer to start so she doesn’t miss him playing. He always did enjoy having her absolute attention for himself.

The song fades, lingering, lingering, lingering—

Clara smiles, wondering if his music choice on this moonlit night means he hoped a piece he composed himself would lure her to him.

After all, why would he play a piece he titled Clara, if not to snare himself a snake?

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

canon babey.

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

displays of ruthlessness, especially for him. her protectiveness is often amusing to him but also rouses his hunger like nothing else (an argument could be made he's never had someone lay it all on the line so thoroughly for him, and while one side insists it’s foolish, another darker side of him craves that unconditional devotion with destructive hunger). overall their bouts of sexual encounters tend to be more frenzied/desperate than steady/affectionate.

26. What are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex?

oh, it takes a vvv long time for him to allow her anywhere near for unprompted physical affection. it stirs contempt, revulsion, and makes him feel out of control if she's showering him with tenderness. once again, big time leans into how he and ramona were brought up. if he permits anyone that close, he's already lost control of the situation. he should never need anyone but himself. with time and a lot of patience which clara, admittedly, has in spades, I imagine he would grow a lil more used to it. maybe even grow to like it to a degree, even if he would never voice this or show weakness by asking for affection outright. mainly because with her he doesn't have to question any ulterior motives that might come with such displays. clara and her big bleeding heart. she does it simply because she loves him, because it makes her happy, and while these are distant concepts to him, he makes them room for his own amusement if nothing else. for her, I think it's the knowledge that she's allowed closer than anyone else ever has been. it's thrilling. even if it is dangerous.

27. Do they have any kinks/fetishes that they share?

a fair few, augustin is big into control but with years she learns exactly how to work him just enough to have him craving a different type of release basically I'm not saying augustin is lowkey bottom in the bedroom if with vvv specific type of individual but I am

28. Write a ~300 fantasy one of them has about the other.

“Hands on the lid.”

The command—soft, oh so soft—hooks into her flesh, near instinctively jerking her into obedience. Gnashing her teeth, Clara instead stands still, feet firmly planted.

Beguiling, seductive melody has faded minutes prior. In those hushed minutes, Augustin scrutinized her leaning on the piano, listening to him playing as per usual.

“Or what?”

He doesn’t repeat himself—he never does. He stands, his long shadow stretching with him. Augustin may not be a fighter, might not have the muscular build people like Hector do, but his menace stems from somewhere else. Far deeper than most people can comprehend.

Anyone can break a body, but few can break a mind.

Her skin buzzes with his approach. His slacks creased alongside his white shirt. Unbuttoned. His floppy, golden locks hang disheveled in contrast to his noble, sharp face. There’s that edge to him tonight; the creeping darkness, emptiness, that worries her. It has for years. Clara is not alone in this concern, she knows. Augustin is never mild, but he’s always devastating. This Augustin makes her feel like there are monstrous claws creeping down her spine.

She holds her ground until he’s before her, looming over her like a wraith.

“Your hands,” he exhales against her ear, his breath searing. “on the lid, Clara.”

Heat floods through her body, her breaths growing uneven, “Are you going to fuck me on that piano?”

“Yes,” he says calmly, his stare glassy. “Until you’re begging for more.”

His knuckles graze against her cheek lightly. Deceptively so.

“I won’t.”

Augustin’s cold, thin fingers grasp her wrist; a shackle. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

29. What are each of their signature foreplay moves?

clara is pretty good at giving oral & enjoys it, so. more often though, augustin just gets inpatient so anything she tries to slow it down by neck kisses etc, he gets even more inpatient. in truth, his pride, while dictating his pleasure comes first, likely can't resist the urge to go slower, more through, if only to see/hear how she falls apart for him. clara is vocal and working her up can be rewarding if he puts his mind to it.

30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them.

He watches her, observing each silky breath, each desperate writhe in his lap. Nails bite into his bare shoulder, scoring the skin. Greedy, greedy—so set on marking all she wants. Not unlike him. In this, they are the same. Augustin entertains her when he’s feeling particularly merciful. It’s not often, but Viper uses these moments to her full advantage, just as he taught her to.

He catches the skin of her neck with his teeth, a chuckle rasping from his lungs when she lets out a sweet, drunken sound. Clara’s voice borders on a snap; splintering, wanting.

“A little louder,” he goads, amused by how viciously she claws at his shirt, now mere tatters. “If you want to come, louder.”

She grabs his neck; nails and sweat fusing with dull, biting pain. Her glare is dark, lust hazed, but her jaw remains set. Stubborn. Unyielding. Augustin swallows his hollow amusement. She does make him work for it.

“No.”

His fingers bruise her hip, sinking in her deeper, harder. Half undressed mess and needy in his lap. Catching her like this tends to be his favourite.

“Oh, yes,” he hums sweetly, all feigned sympathy and sugary fondness, dragging his thumb down her pounding pulse. Soft, damp skin trembles beneath his touch. He traces it with hateful gentleness. He likes how she quivers. Not in fear. But in anticipation. Waiting for the grip around her throat she knows is coming. “Aren’t you good for me? Lovely Clara.”

His fingers latch onto her jaw, yanking her to him, all pretenses now gone, delighting in her fluttering lashes and deliberate roll of hips in revenge. She likes it when he’s mean, her back straighter, her jaw clenched. Her own hand slips around his throat and she grins viciously, squeezing.

“Are you? Which will—ah—it be today? I-inside? Chest? Mouth? You’re so close, I’m flattered.”

31. What do they love to do after sex?

as mentioned previously, he's not super touchy-feely initially or for a long time. more likely than if it's the middle of the day he has other things to do so there isn't much PDA. with time though he would get more accustomed to her more needy nature. how much she likes physicality post-sex as well. if it's night, he's more likely to let her slot herself neatly beside him with a content smile across her face. when she's asleep, he nudges her closer, but very much because he’s possessive of what's in his grasp only. she doesn't need to know it though.

32. Do they enjoy morning or night sex?

night sex. after a long day if there's still energy leftover and/or any frustrations lingering, letting off steam helps him quieten his restless mind.

#thank you so much. this was vvv interesting to do #oc x oc #otp headcanons #s: i'd let you win #otp asks #c: augustin #c: clara #asks #anon

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Hot Patch (Dad! Yuta x you)

a/n : Hey! I am here to share another Yuta domestic au :) Himnaseyo everyone! I hope this oneshot can make you feel calm before sleeping or just have a better day :) Hold On Pain Ends! Idk if you remember, but welcome Nami and Kenji back to your pages.

tagging my eonni @yutahoes and amazing fellow ais who always support yuta with all their hearts @2-3-t-i @ailoveyuta and all the domestic yuta lover out there

here we go ~~

The cloudy sky starts to cry and that gives you a bad feeling. You pause in track, open your umbrella and quickly pull Nami under the umbrella and Kenji up on your shoulder.

“Kenji sweetie, hold on tight okay?” You ask through your shoulder as you hoist him up so he can hold on to your shoulder nicely.

Kenji just nod and with his firm grips on your shoulder you now check on the growing beautiful girl who already clings her hand on your dress.

“Nami, stay close.” One of your hand is under kenji's body making sure he is not slipping off while your other hand is holding the umbrella. Nami understands and three of you start walking down the pouring rain.

You are glad you didn’t bring much stuff when walking with them to the park, you give yourself a good job for bringing an umbrella but in your mind you have to remember to make Nami bring her own. Before Kenji is here, you can pick Nami up and run through the rain but not now.

Your phone rings and you guess it must be Yuta. He said he was heading home earlier and you guess he must have been homed and found your message that three of you are going for a quick afternoon walk.

Nami glances at you for ignoring the call, but you chuckle “It's probably dad, don’t worry he's home already. Now Nami after this you go inside and take off your wet clothes okay?” you tell the little girl that when you see your home sweet home.

Yuta’s car was parked already in the garage and the lights are on. Nami made it to the front door mostly dry, she bangs on the door and waits for Yuta to open the door for them.

“I was super worried when the rain fell-" Yuta's sentence stop and his eyes run from Nami who dashed through him, to you who look super struggling keeping Kenji up with one hand and holding an umbrella. His heart goes warm and he wants to scold her.

“Help me please?” you raise your brow. Yuta quickly step forward and you turn your back to him. Yuta takes over Kenji from you and you winces when your left arm was completely numb and sore from hoisting him up. You drop the big heavy umbrella. Good thing you're still able to bring both of your kids home safely.

But your duty as a mom is not over. Nami has already taken off her clothes, Yuta runs the hot water and you're helping Kenji escapes from his dry clothes. You smile feeling proud that the torturous journey at least makes Kenji dry as bone.

“Kenji fell asleep already since he arrived!” Yuta said when the kids are already sitting in front of the TV, eyes glued to their favorite ninja series, while hands and mouth are busy drinking hot chocolate.

You have taken a warm bath too and stretch your aching limbs a little, before getting teased by Yuta.

“Really? Kenji fell asleep? No wonder he felt heavier on my back.” You sigh and gulp down the steaming hot ocha Yuta placed in front of you.

Under the dining lamp on the small dining table, Yuta sits across you. In his comfortable clothes and smiling face.

“You could’ve called me. I will pick you while you wait in the park.” Yuta taps his fingers on the table.

You cross your arms over your chest and giggle “Aigo, we were already halfway home, I thought going back home before the rain gets heavier is a better choice.”

Yuta nods “It is, but you overworked yourself.”

“A thank you would be better. Look at Nami and Kenji arriving home dry!”

“yeahh but you, your front side is totally not dry.”

“kids are the priority Yuta…” you lean to your chair while keeping your palms warm with the heat from the tea cup.

“I know, but look at your hands. I'm sure you won’t be able to move them tomorrow.” Yuta clicks his tongue.

“Then it’s your turn to babysit them.” You clap your hands and stop when the pain hits your arm.

Yuta laughs and leaves his chair “Hold up okay let me get you some hot patches.”

He comes back with the famous hot muscle patches from his homeland and Yuta walks to your side. He seems to know where to put the patches on, because he went for specific points. Unlike you who usually press all your arm and find the aching spot and put the patch there.

“Now, done!” Yuta slams the empty sticker to the table and you crack your neck “Thanks. Can you prepare dinner?” you bat your eyelash and if this is anime, he'd have blood dripping from his nose. Both from your aegyo and the request to cook.

“Alright, since you look so cute and you've been a great mom. I can cook dinner. What should we eat?” he leans over to grab his phone and you press your back to the soft mattress.

“Anything edible. Don’t burn the house, I'll take some nap.” You yawn and stretch your arms up before disappearing under the blanket.

Yuta scrolls through the internet, using a website that can give you recipes from the stuffs you have in your fridge. He smiles when he found one that will suit the children's palette and yours too.

“Guess it’s some italian night dinner today. I at least know I won’t burn the house from boiling pasta.” Yuta thinks to himself. He changes his clothes to a comfortable one where he won’t mind getting oils or sauces on and he walks to the kitchen.

With his apron on and his hair tied back, he begins organizing the tools he needs, ingredients and starts boiling the water.

There's an hour to dinner time, he hopes he can finish on time before any of his little piglets come for food. Talking about his piglets (aka children) Yuta walks to peek into their room after putting the pasta into the boiling water.

There he sees Nami laying on her bed with her favorite doll cuddled next to her, Kenji on the other bed is already snoring lightly. They must’ve been tired from playing all day long!

He steps into the room to cover Nami with her small soft blanket, a purple one! Similar to what Taeyong has, just his is black. Kenji has tossed his blanket on the floor and Yuta gently returns the blanket on his smaller copy of him.

He adores his babies so much and sometimes seeing them already this big makes him wants to cry. He has been missing a lot of things! His idol career doesn’t allow him to always be on their school activities or events. He's glad you stopped your office job and listened to his aid to just start your long wished start up project. A small florist with a coffee shop next to it.

You have your workers so you just have to occasionally come for control. Other than that your children have your attention and time 100% of the day.

He remembers about his cooking and before he can escape from the room, a small whine catches his attention.

He twists his body to see the owner of the voice rubbing and blinking his eyes and turn over to stand on his bed. Oh Kenji can go down from his bed by himself now! Yuta just witnessed that.

“Otosan?” he yawns and blinks several times confused at the dark room condition. Yuta puts a finger over his lips and kenji copies it. “Your noona is sleeping,”

Kenji seems to understand and slowly tiptoes to his father who's already kneeling down to hug him.

“Hungry,” Kenji grins and Yuta swiftly picks him up in one go and make a dash to the kitchen. He comes back in time, with Kenji on his other arm, he turns the stove off.

“Kenji, I have to move this water but it's hot. Do you want to sit first?” Yuta asks nicely but Kenji shakes his head eagerly and clings into Yuta's neck stronger.

“I miss otosan.” He buries his face to the crook of Yuta's neck and Yuta sighs. Oh so this is why you always said clingy kids are annoying when it comes to cooking.

“Okay then, you can be on my back but behave.” Yuta walks to take the baby carrier on the sofa. Well he has this baby strap where you can keep your baby on your back safely while you do your chores.

Kenji happily climbs into his back and Yuta’s glad he can put on the strap by himself. After making sure it's secured and Kenji is comfortable, Yuta begins throwing away the hot water, and prepares for the sauce.

Although he knows you love creamy pasta, the children love tomato bolognese more and so as parents both of you will have to set creamy pasta aside.

“Otosan, am I heavy?” Kenji asks after he keeps quiet when Yuta is stir frying the meat.

Yuta chuckles when did this kid learn this phrase? “Of course not! Otosan is strong. I can carry you even if you are heavy.”

Kenji leans his chubby cheeks on Yuta's shoulder and his small fingers play with Yuta's ear. Yuta's glad he doesn’t have any earrings now. Having Kenji pulls one accidentally or not is a nightmare.

“Then Otosan should do this more!” kenji claps his hands happily “Mommy says she cannot carry me on her back anymore when she does chores.”

Yuta is surprised at his eloquence but more surprised to find out that you've been carrying Kenji on your back while doing chores.

“Eoh okay then Kenji. Since otosan is stronger, you come to me when you need a lift okay? We don’t want mommy to get hurt.” Yuta speaks softly to his son while his focus is still on making sure he didn’t overcook the meat and pours the right amount of sauce.

“Otosan cool.” Kenji's sentence return to fragments and he sure is a surprise eh?

“Cool? Otosan looks cool?” Yuta's proud voice is back and his sassiness is showing.

“Hm" Kenji nods and his eyes are focused on the plates filled with pasta now.

“Hungry!” Kenji points to his lion plate and Yuta takes them all to the table. He quickly sets the plates and glasses not to forget the cutleries.

“We wake up mom and noona then we eat?” Yuta always makes sure they are eating together, thankfully Kenji is used to this and he rushes Yuta to wake Nami up.

He gets down from Yuta's back and Yuta moans in relief when his back feels lighter. He giggles now why he understood you asked Kenji to stop being on your back all day long. Yuta makes his steps to your room and wakes you up gently. You stir in your sleep and smell the delicious food.

“Hmm pasta?” you ask while rubbing your eyes and smiling to Yuta. His heart softens at how cute you can still be even after having two kids. Without holding back, Yuta plants a quick kiss on your lips and takes your hand to stand up.

“Kenji is starving and he is waiting.” Yuta only needs to say that for you to quickly walk to the door and greet your two loves with big smile as the four of you wash your hands and sit around the table.

“Thank you for the food.” The four of you chime together “Itadakimasss!”

Yuta pauses before taking his own bite. He looks around the table to wait for complains or thumbs up but looks like everyone is too hungry.

“It's delicious.” You mutter the praise, it’s the truth. A food cooked by your husband is always delicious. Because you don’t have to cook and don’t have to wash. No kidding.

Nami gives a thumb up and kenji is already shoving his face into the bowl.

Yuta feels happy and he digs into his own plate. You're right this is not bad. He expected it to taste too bland or too salty, but it's perfect.

Dinner ends nicely with Nami and Kenji asking for more pasta and you gladly give them more. They're kids and they need nutrients to grow.

All in all this is a perfect day and night. You got to spend a fun afternoon in the park with your kids and Yuta cooked you all dinner. You even get to rest afterwards because he washed all the dishes and even play with the kids and sings them lullabies.

He returns to your room when the kids are alseep. His face shows he is tired but the glow he radiates shows he is happy to do this father-children bonding time.

“I told them their favorite bedtime stories.” Yuta says after he changes into his pajamas and dives into the space next to you.

You're watching a tv series and Yuta hugs you from the side “Don't you want to sleep? You're tired.”

You turn the tv off and face Yuta, slowly you cup his cheek “Why would I sleep when I still don’t receive my bonding time?” you wink at Yuta and he chuckles.

“You really are naughty!” he tickles you but you tickle him back “I am just waiting for you so we can sleep together! Pervert.” You playfully hit his chest and he grabs your arm that's on his chest.

His gaze is deep and he kisses your palm without breaking eye contact “Okay we'll sleep. What queen wants , queen gets.”

You laugh and press yourself closer to Yuta. He engulfs you in a hug and you nuzzle yourself to a comfortable position.

One slight shift and suddenly everything's so good. The pillow feels cold, the blanket soft and Yuta's heartbeat is a great lullaby for you. You don’t want to move, you want time to stop and pause here.

Life is great with Yuta and the small family you love. Your small family with Yuta.

endddd, it’s rainy season somewhere out there please take care of yourself :D

#yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #domestic yuta #yuta fluff #yuta soft hours #yuta scenarios #yuta imagines #yuta nakamoto #yuta oneshot #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta x reader #nct yuta #nct fluff #nct fluff imagines #nct oneshot #nct 127 fluff #yuta soft moodboard #father yuta

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juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Mysticus Chapter 3

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Slow-burn (Smut later on)

Masterlist Chapter 4

His name bounced around in your head constantly, Ezra. So simple, but once he told you it seemed almost obvious. Repeating it back to him you could almost taste it, easy and sweet, with a little something rich near the end. Something darker maybe, it was like you’d been waiting your whole life to say his name.

At first his casual touches shocked you. Big firm hand on your shoulder guiding you through a parking lot, same hand on the small of your back when opening a door for you, a light smack on your thigh while driving when spotting something interesting on the side of the road. Even though you’d been travelling alone with the dog for so long, it was worryingly easy to get used to him. It felt as though the warmth in his hands seeped into your skin wherever he touched you, warming something inside of you that you hadn’t realized was frozen. It also didn’t hurt that to you, he was devastatingly handsome.

Sometimes he caught you staring at him, but he only ever gave you that secret smile you had grown to love over the short time travelling together. He smiled, because he stared at you the same way

As you drove through a particularly long stretch of highway in comfortable silence, you saw a sign advertising a rest area coming up within a few miles. Some food would be really welcome you thought to yourself. You noticed movement beside you, Ezra was digging in his bag for something and before long he was holding out a bag of pretzels to you. Not looking up from the paperback he was trying to read in the dying light of the day. Your brow furrowed. Had you spoken out loud?

“Here Birdie, to hold you over until we can stop for a proper meal.” Secret smile on display. You felt like there was something strange going on.

“Did I say I was hungry out loud?” You asked just as your stomach growled loudly. He laughed softly, without malice.

“Audio evidence aside, I’m not sure you’re aware how loud your thoughts are Birdie. Eat, we shall arrive at the rest stop soon. Once we’re properly fed and watered we will trade places and you can rest.” He put the open bag on your lap so you could reach in while driving.

“I know you’re hungry too aren’t you sweet girl?” He smiled over his shoulder at the dog whose attention had been piqued from the crinkling of the bag. He reached into another bag and pulled out one of her treats and gave it to her. Cooing softly into her ear as she took it gently from his hand. You had this overwhelming sense that there was something bigger at play here. You ate the pretzels, quietly lost in thought.

Two hours later you were both enjoying the evening breeze while sitting at one of the many empty picnic tables outside the rest stop. Both of you happy to be out of the car for a little while, dog enjoying the grass as she laid at your feet. You had been more quiet than usual as you ate your food.

“What’s troubling you Birdie? I can tell there’s something on your mind. I hope I haven’t done something to upset you?” He asked with genuine concern, softly taking your hand in both of his big warm ones.

“How’s do you do that? It feels like you know what I’m thinking sometimes.” You felt ridiculous asking, realizing how crazy it was once the words were said out loud.

“I suppose I do it the same way you do Birdie. You often give me answers to questions I haven’t voiced. Haven’t you noticed?” You frowned, you didn’t know what he was thinking did you? He traced the mark on your palm unconsciously and it made your heart race.

“Haven’t you ever noticed we seem to anticipate what the other needs before speaking it out loud? Yesterday while I was driving you handed me my water without me even making so much as a peep. Often times I’ll think I need something and you’ll hand it to me.” He stared at your hand as he spoke.

You tried to think about what he was saying, you assumed he’d said he was thirsty. Had he actually said it or did you somehow feel what he felt as clearly as you felt your own desires. Your heart was racing and there was a curious panic spreading from the middle of your chest, radiating out of you in waves. He sensed your panic in that strange way and tentatively walked over to where you were sitting.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of Birdie.” He spoke gently, slowly bringing his arm around your shoulder to ground you. So many emotions hit you at once and it was hard to focus on any one in particular, you were scared at the thought that someone else might know what you were thinking or feeling or whatever the hell this was, you felt emotional at the tenderness he was showing. Quietly letting you deal with everything you were thinking without pushing. Most of all, you felt embarrassed. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all. There had always been something, you knew that in your heart of hearts, or you wouldn’t have said some of the crazy un-knowable things you’ve previously said during your palm readings. Whether you acknowledged it or not there was a sense you had about people; about different places even. Why was it so unbelievable that you’d find someone who was similar? He rubbed at your shoulder in comfortable silence as you slowly brought your sudden panic under control.

“What does it mean do you think? How come we’re connected this way?” You asked as you unconsciously scooted a little closer to him, seeking out his reassuring warmth. You felt him stiffen for the briefest of moments, you thought you saw a look of sadness on his face; it was gone before you could even register it. It still tickled at something, in the back of your mind. There was something there that you pushed away, avoiding. Ignoring.

“Well Birdie, I’m not entirely sure what it means. We’re special I suppose.” He didn’t meet your eye as he took your hand again. Touching the mark on your palm as you took in his words. He was quiet when you got back on the road You thought about your conversation with Ezra for a long time after, and as you were coming up on the motel you were planning on stopping at for the night you felt something. There was something wrong. The motel looked indistinguishable from any other motel you’d stopped at during the course of your travels. There was an unnatural electricity skimming over your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. The car came to a stop before the entrance of the parking lot and you turned to face him. There was a strange expression on his face. A seriousness that was completely at odds with his usual mood. He generally wore an easy smile, always in a good mood. If you were honest this scared you a little bit. The dog growled softly from her place in the back seat. “If it’s all the same to you Birdie, I strongly suggest we depart from this place without haste.” He didn’t wait for you to respond as he peeled out of there and got back on the highway. “You felt it too right?” Your voice came out smaller than you intended. “I did. What did you feel Birdie?” He asked quietly, as he continually checked the rear-view mirror. “It was like someone threw me in ice cold water.” You felt the sweat drying on your back as you tried to focus on your breathing. “I couldn’t have phrased it better myself. We’ll find another more suitable place to replenish our strength.” He said it in a voice that booked no argument, not that you had one to offer. You read about that motel in the news a couple of days later, a fight had gotten out of hand and shots had been fired. A few stray bullets had found themselves lodged in the beds next to the room involved in the altercation. Luckily, the room had been empty.

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Tag List: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @thirstworldproblemss @cannedsoupsucks @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x female reader #soulmates au #prospect ezra #ezra from prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra (prospect) x you #prospect #prospect fic

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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

Text

Rupert and Sanoh (Lemon)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Kobold/Male Human, Female Half-Elf/Male Tielfling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Tiefling, Elf, D&D, Dungeons & Dragons, Kobold, Half-Elf Content Warning: Sex, Rough Sex, Biting, Marking, Group Sex, Dom/Sub, Breath Play Words: 3349

A story with DuMont’s friends, Rupert and Sanoh! Rupert and Sanoh are having sexy fun in a bath when Kharis and DuMont enter the room. Not willing to stop, they try to be stealthy. It doesn't work. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

“Why do wererats always have to live in sewers?” Kharis grumped. “Every time we get contracted to kill rodents of any kind, I just know we’re going to have to go somewhere gross.”

Kharis, DuMont, Rupert, Sanoh, and Norman all pulled themselves out of the sewers of one of the larger towns west of the capitol. People had been going missing, and the mayor of the town realized that the rats in town were multiplying at an incredible rate, even with preventative measures. It was a clear indication that wererats were responsible.

“It wasn’t all that bad,” Sanoh said. “The humidity down there was good for my scales. They’re so itchy.”

“It may have been good for your scales, but it definitely wasn’t good for your clothes,” Kharis remarked. “That stink isn’t coming out. You might as well burn that shit.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sanoh said with a sigh. Her dancer’s outfit, which she always wore regardless of the situation, was torn and it’s bright red hue was now dark brown. “I really liked this one, too.”

Rupert seemed even more miserable that Kharis. “Can we please find a bathhouse? I haven’t been this filthy in years.”

“You’re one to talk, look at poor DuMont!” Kharis said, pointing at her giant lover. DuMont, the mountain of a tiefling that he was, was splattered head to toe in muck and grime and rat guts. His large church-bell bludgeon that he had slung over his shoulder was absolutely caked in blood and gore. “He’s not even complaining!”

“That’s because he doesn’t know how to complain,” Sanoh said. “He takes the phrase ‘roll with the punches’ far too literally.”

“Is that wrong?” DuMont asked, his cavernously deep voice echoing through the city streets, causing many who weren’t already staring at the group to spin in surprise.

“Of course not, love,” Kharis said, patting his arm as he walked on all fours. “I much prefer silent temperance to someone who does nothing but complain.” She looked pointedly at Rupert.

“Norman complains more than I do!” Rupert retorted.

“I haven’t said a word!” Norman protested. “Don’t pick on me because you’re a whiner.”

“Oh, my god, everyone shut up!” Sanoh said, rubbing her forehead. “There’s a bathhouse one block over, so will you all just please stop bitching.”

“I’m not bitching,” DuMont said in an undertone. “But I am hungry.”

“I’ll order you a rack of lamb and a sack of potatoes when we get to the inn, hon,” Kharis said. “Get cleaned up first. You don’t want to eat when you’re that dirty or you’ll get sick.”

“I’ve never been sick.” DuMont countered.

“Even still, you should be clean…er. And I don’t want you to drop pieces of food in the bath, either. It’ll feel like we’re all sitting in a stew.”

“You weirdos can sit in the stew, I’m getting a private bath,” Norman said.

“Why do you do that?” Rupert asked. “You always get your own instead of bathing with us, even though private baths are so much more expensive. It’s no wonder why you never have any money.”

“I’m not trying to get head by a paid companion in front of you lot,” He said sniffily.

“Suit yourself, but I bet that’d be fun to watch,” Kharis said playfully.

Norman snorted. “You would think that, you pervert.”

“You’ve become so shy since we started traveling, Norman,” Kharis said. “You used to be a nice, relatable pervert, just like the rest of us.”

“Maybe being with you people has made me see the error in my ways,” Norman remarked.

“Pssh, there isn’t anything wrong with being a pervert. Besides, I think DuMont balances me out. He can be such a prude sometimes.”

“I imagine being raised by a priest in a church will have that effect on a person,” Sanoh said.

“You are a pervert, Kharis,” DuMont said, as if in agreement with Norman.

“Does me being a pervert bother you?” Kharis asked him, grinning.

He looked at her and cocked his head as he walked, considering her, looking like a massively oversized dog, as he always did when thinking.

“No,” He said eventually.

“See? He likes it.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” He said. His face wasn’t built to smile, but Rupert thought he could hear laughter in his voice, and Rupert grinned.

“We would be the ones to pick brazen, sex-crazed women, wouldn’t be, big guy?” Rupert said, smacking DuMont’s broad shoulder in solidarity.

DuMont grunted in a way that could have been mistaken for a chuckle.

DuMont had been very taciturn since they had met him nearly a year ago, but his personality was slowly beginning to emerge as the five of them spent more time together on the road, doing jobs. Rupert was glad he finally felt comfortable enough with the group to try joking with them.

The bathhouse came into view shortly afterward. It catered to adventuring sorts, so it wasn’t necessarily a high-end place, and the five of them tended to frequent it often. The staff there barely batted an eye at DuMont anymore. The laundresses despised the sight of them, however, since they always arrived splattered with all manner of filth, much of which was hard to wash out.

“Hey, can we get the big tub, please?” Sanoh called out as soon as they entered the place. “We’ll pay extra to reserve the whole thing, though I doubt many people will want to come in after us.”

The woman at the front desk curled up her lip at them as they entered, but said, “Yes, of course. You’re usual packages?”

“Yes,” Norman said. “Private room for me, please. Do you have any companions available?”

“Derek is available.”

“Ugh, no, not him. What about Vincent?”

“Vincent is away visiting family. Connor?”

Norman nodded. “Connor will do. Just make sure he brings the right massage oils this time.”

“That costs extra,” The woman reminded him.

“I’m aware,” Normal said, starting toward the private baths.

“I’m beginning to think Norman is too fancy for us,” Sanoh said. “We can’t afford him.” She walked up to the counter. “Do you have any scale oil?”

“We don’t have any specifically for scales, but there are plenty for skin and hair.”

“Hmm…” Sanoh said. “Give me the hair oil, then. It tends to be thicker. What scents have you got?”

Kharis snorted. “Come on, let’s get these clothes off before they stick to us. She may be at this for a while.”

Dumont and Rupert followed her to one of the larger public baths, one with a door, and closed it behind them. Now that they had been together for a long time, they were less shy about bathing together as they had been. Even DuMont had stopped blushing when he saw them all nude in the same bath.

“Kharis, I’m hungry,” DuMont said insistently. The only time DuMont ever seemed to get grumpy was when he needed a meal.

“Let me at least scrub you down once and we’ll go get some food,” She told him, pushing him into the bath still wearing his loincloth. The robes and towels weren’t nearly large enough to cover him, so they just had taken to washing him in the bath, clothes and all. They usually did him first, drained the bath, and refilled it for the rest of them.

Once Rupert helped Kharis give DuMont a once over, getting him clean enough to go into the tavern, they left to get something to eat and Rupert and Sanoh waited for the tub to be refilled. When that was done, the fresh water was nice and hot, and Sanoh arrived with her purchased oils. They both stripped down and got in with a satisfied sigh.

“Oh, gods, this is nice,” Sanoh said.

“Mmm,” Rupert agreed. “I think this is the first time in a month that my shoulders have relaxed.”

“My scales were starting to get so brittle. Will you get my scale brush and scrub the oils into my back? I can feel them flaking.”

“Sure, just a second,” He said, getting out with a splash and grabbing her back. She had a special boars-hair brush she used to clean and sharpen her scales and horns. Her favorite thing in the world was laying out and letting him groom her tiny body all over. It often got her in a frisky mood.

Sure enough, after only scrubbing her back for fifteen minutes, she started to wiggle in his lap, rutting her hips backward into him. He began to harden immediately. Sanoh seemed to revel in getting him aroused in dangerously public places, but it always caused Rupert anxiety.

“What are you doing?” Rupert said. “Kharis and DuMont will be back any minute.”

“Then let’s be quick,” She said, looking back at him over her shoulder.

She lifted up in the water and slowly sank her swollen lips down onto him. He gripped her hips and groaned, his head falling back, trying to keep his voice down. There really was no arguing when she was in a mood like this. He began to thrust up into her, sloshing the water around them.

She laughed breathlessly. “Good boy.” She thrust back into him as he moved inside her. Before long, he picked her up and lay her over the side of the bath, slamming himself into her hard enough to make her thighs ripple. She began to moan loudly.

“Shh!” He hissed. “You’re going to get us thrown out.”

“But it feels so good,” She whimpered. “Norman has sex in the baths all the time, don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t make me gag you,” He said, panting.

“You can try,” She said, laughing, before crying out against the tile. He put his hand over her mouth, but she bit him. He let go, inspecting his hand, and when he found she hadn’t broken the skin, he instead grabbed her throat, squeezing.

“Oh, fuck,” She wheezed, her eyes going glassy. As bossy as she was, she loved it when he was rough and took charge.

“Shut up!” He snarled in her ear. “You started it. Be quiet and take it.”

“I will,” She simpered, and he squeezed harder.

“I said, shut up!” He slammed hard into her, and she squeaked against his grip on her neck, her body trembling in excitement. She came suddenly, gushing down her legs, but he didn’t relent, crushing his body against hers, breathing down her neck and spine, moving at a frenzied pace.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum,” He said through his gritted teeth. “Stand still, don’t fucking move.”

Before he got the chance, however, he heard the far door open and Kharis’s voice drift through.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, pulling out suddenly and ducking under the water to hide himself. His cock was throbbing with the unfulfilled promise of climax, but there was little he could do about it now. He was just going to have to sit there and suffer in silence.

Until Sanoh sat back down onto him, spearing him inside her, her inner walls still quivering from the orgasm.

“Now what are you doing?!” He asked frantically.

“Just act natural,” She replied in an undertone.

“They’re going to know!”

“Not if you don’t make a big deal about it! Lay your head back and pretend you’re sleeping!

“Sanoh!”

“Just do it!”

Rupert lay his head back against the tile on the edge of the bath with Sanoh in his lap just as Kharis and DuMont re-entered the bathing area, stripping down to join them.

“Well, DuMont cleaned out the tavern, so if you want food, you’re going to have to find a vendor somewhere,” Kharis said.

“Not surprising,” Sanoh said, stealthily riding Rupert’s cock under the water, pretending to be washing her arms to cover the movement.

“What’s with him?” Kharis asked, nodding at Rupert.

“He conked out almost immediately after you left. I’m just keeping his lap warm,” She said smoothly.

Kharis snorted and said, “I wish I could fall asleep as easily as he can. DuMont’s like that too,” She reclined on the large red tiefling. “He can fall asleep mid-sentence.”

“A gift and a curse,” Sanoh said in agreement. She squeezed Rupert’s length with her inner muscles, and it took all his effort not to grunt or move. He dug his fingers into the skin of her hips as a warning. Sanoh snorted. She moved under the pretense of adjusting herself and nearly made Rupert jump out of his skin with how deep she’d push him into her. He couldn’t help but make a small sound.

Kharis noticed. “What are you doing?” She asked Sanoh, her eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?” Sanoh asked innocently.

Kharis gave Sanoh a sardonic look. “You don’t have to pretend to be asleep anymore, Rupert, I know what’s going on. I’m a pervert, after all.”

Rupert sighed and lifted his head. “The jig is up, I guess. Sanoh, hop off.”

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” Kharis said. “Far be it from me to interrupt your fun.”

“What about DuMont?” Rupert asked skeptically.

“What about him?” Kharis replied, reaching over in the water and placing her hand in DuMont’s lap.

“Wha…” DuMont said, startled. “What are you doing?”

“Having fun,” Kharis said. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“But…” He looked at Sanoh and Rupert.

“They’re already having fun,” Kharis said. “They started before us.”

“They are?” DuMont asked in surprise, squinting at the pair.

As if to answer, Sanoh let Rupert’s organ fall out of her and spun in Rupert’s lap. Now that she didn’t have to worry about stealthing, she rocked on him and moaned.

“Oh,” DuMont replied, and then sucked in his breath when Kharis squeezed him.

“Are you okay with this, buddy?” Rupert asked over Sanoh’s shoulder, though he was beginning to lose speech. “We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sanoh said with a snort.

“We’ll stop if you aren’t comfortable, DuMont,” Rupert repeated, giving Sanoh a warning look. Sanoh rolled her eyes and shrugged.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” DuMont replied, playing with Kharis’s hair and she fondled him under the water.

“See? He’s fine, don’t be such a baby,” Sanoh said, pushing him into her deeper. He grunted and stopped speaking.

Kharis held her breath and ducked her head under water, and DuMont tensed and groaned, his hands balling into fists on the side of the tub. From then on, there was little talk, just moans, grunts, groans, and breathy whimpering.

Kharis came up and went to the edge of the bath, bending over and presenting her rear. DuMont followed her and knelt down, pressing his cock into her and thrusting in hard, pushing her forward and down onto the tile. She laughed breathlessly.

“That looks like fun,” Sanoh said, going over to bend over next to Kharis, wiggling her butt at Rupert and moving her tail out of the way, so he could see her dripping between her legs. Rupert followed DuMont and rammed back into her, thrusting fast and hard.

“Wanna see something really fun?” Sanoh said to Kharis. Kharis nodded, and Sanoh leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.

The reaction was instantaneous. Rupert grabbed Sanoh by the throat again and pulled her up against his body.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, his voice hard and angry. He sped up, fucking her roughly as he held her in place. “You belong to me. Don’t you dare do that again without my permission.”

Sanoh’s face went slack and she nodded, whimpering, completely at his mercy.

DuMont’s reaction was also immediate. He grabbed Kharis up and vaulted out of the bath, throwing her to the floor. He pinned down her arms and legs and put his face inches from hers. He didn’t say anything, but a low, guttural snarl issued from his throat, his brows furrowed as he stared at her with the intensity of a predator looking at prey.

“What’s the matter, big guy?” She said with a grin. “Are you jealous?”

“Mine,” He growled lowly, almost indistinguishable from the threatening, thunderous rumble of his voice.

“Prove it,” She challenged.

He opened his mouth and sank his front canine teeth into her shoulder, drawing blood. He thrust himself back into her without letting go, his jaws locked, and he lifted her off the ground and just railed her.

There was no hope of keeping their voices down now. If they got kicked out, they got kicked out. Sanoh and Kharis screamed, shouted, howled, and swore in pleasure as their lovers used their bodies to climax.

At some point, there was a knock on the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away!” Sanoh and Kharis shouted in unison.

Kharis and Sanoh came several times before the boys were done with them. While Kharis had as much stamina as DuMont did and was just as active, at some point Sanoh’s legs gave out and she simply lay there on the floor in a perpetual orgasm trance as Rupert pumped her full of his warmth and kept going like a machine, finally collapsing on top of her, breathing as if he’d run five miles in a minute.

DuMont was the last to reach his peak, gushing into Kharis, his seed pooching her stomach and dripping out of her, down his legs, and splattering onto the floor. For a solid minute, the room was quiet, safe for a lot of heavy breathing.

Finally, as they all caught their breath, the re-entered the bath to wash each other.

“Kharis, you’re bleeding,” Sanoh said, pointing. There was a very large bite in her shoulder, and it was rather deep.

“Oh,” DuMont said, flustered by worry. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, big guy,” She reassured him. “I wanted you to do it. It’s proof.”

“Proof?” He echoed, his brow furrowed.

“That I belong to you,” She said simply. “Help me wash it.”

As rough as DuMont had been, his gentleness in tending the wound was a mirror opposite. Rupert and Sanoh sat cuddled together and watched fondly as DuMont lovingly treated and bandaged Kharis’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, DuMont,” Rupert said. “Sanoh marked me, too.” He turned and showed DuMont a bite on his left shoulder blade. “And Sanoh’s bites can be venomous. I was sick for a week.”

“I said I was sorry,” She said reproachfully. “It was the heat of the moment, I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, hugging her in close and kissing her forehead.

“Does it hurt?” DuMont asked Kharis.

“Not really,” She said. “I’m sure it will tomorrow when the sex high has worn off, but I feel great right now. And it’ll scar up nicely, I think.”

“I’m sorry!” DuMont said, hiding his face.

“Honey, it’s okay!” She said, pulling his hands down. “I like it! It lets everyone who sees it know that I’m yours. Don’t you want people to know that you and I are in love?”

“Well… yes…” He said, frowning.

“There, see? It’s all fine.” She went up and hugged his neck. “Don’t fuss so much. I’m fine.”

He pulled her back and fixed her with a glare. “No kissing other people.”

She grinned at him. “I won’t, I promise. It was just an experiment.” She winked at Sanoh, who stuck her tongue between her teeth as she smirked. “And I’d say it was successful.”

DuMont grumbled. “I didn’t like it.”

She patted his face and kissed his exposed jaw. “I won’t do it again.”

“Okay,” He said, seemingly satisfied, and he pulled her into an embrace, careful of her shoulder.

The wound healed up really quickly, and Kharis took to wearing asymmetrical shirts, so that she could show it off. Most assumed that it was a grievous injury from a wild beast, and Kharis would laugh and say that was partly right.

Sanoh and Rupert didn’t engage in sex around the two of them again, but it was definitely something they kept in the back of their mind. For a rainy day, maybe.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience!To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#D&D Fanfiction #Tiefling #Kobold #Half-Elf

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Tempting Fate - Part Five

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major, but there is lots of smoking, particularly marijuana.

Word Count: 2,098

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

A/N: Remember, this story takes place during season two of the show. May Carleton makes an appearance in this chapter. Once again, I included Romani phrases in this chapter. I found the phrase online and hope it is correct. If it isn’t, then I am profoundly sorry and do not wish to offend anyone. That is never my intent. Remember, there is no Grace or Greta in this fic. They do not exist in the realm of this alternate universe.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

You did not know what you and Tommy were to each other. The terms “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” didn’t seem right as it was too mundane and basic. However, you and Tommy had grown a little be closer after you both apologized for miscommunicating with one another. Tommy would often walk you home at night after work and stay the night. It became routine for you to wake up next to him in the morning, which was nice and comforting.

For Tommy, being with you was nothing he had ever experienced before. Before the war, he would go on dates every once in a while, but nothing ever lasted longer than a week or two. After the war, it was all one-night stands or nights spent at whore houses. However, with you, it was all new for him. There was something about being with you that Tommy could not quite describe the feeling until Polly coaxed it out of him.

“Safe. Thomas, you feel safe for the first in a long time. Being with this girl will change your life for the better. She is good for you. The two of you will balance one another, her lightness with your darkness. However, there is a darkness in her as well, just as I can see the light in you, my dear nephew. But make no mistake, it is still in you to do some good in this world. Let her help,” Polly explained one day while Tommy was in his office.

Leaning back in his chair, Tommy could nothing but agree with his aunt, “I know that Pol. Part of me is terrified.” He went on to tell Aunt Polly that he didn’t want to “ruin” you or get you hurt, but Polly waved him off.

“Tommy, she can take care of herself. As a gypsy, she has seen things in her life, just like you. Remember, you said it yourself. She is you. And you are her. You are each other’s match.”

One thing about being connected to Tommy was that people around Small Heath treated you differently. The women smiled at you more, while the men tipped their hats to you and greeted you with “mam” or “miss.” It was all new to you.

Even the male patrons at the bar treated you differently. No longer did they affectionately give you a hard time or joke around with you. They maintained their distance but were respectful. You particularly noticed how the men made sure to act accordingly around you whenever Tommy stopped by The Garrison. It was the same when John and Arthur were around.

You were in the back room of the bar when Esme stopped by one afternoon. She greeted you with a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go for a walk down by the Cut, yeah,” Esme suggested. “It is slow out there. I am sure Harry could give you a break.”

“Okay. Let me finish up these last few glasses, then we can head out,” You replied to the woman who was quickly becoming your best friend. You were thankful to have Esme around. She was another person you could confide in. Esme reminded you of your sisters back home and how much you missed them. You pushed the homesick feeling aside and finished cleaning the last bar glass. Wiping your hands on your apron, Esme followed you to the front of the bar.

You told Harry that you were taking your break. “Harry, I won’t be gone too long, okay.”

“Take your time, dear. I don’t think I’ll be expecting a rush anytime soon,” said Harry wiping down the tables.

While the two you walked arm-in-arm, Esme asked how you were holding up now that you were considered Tommy’s “girl” and all. “I’m not his girl, Esme,” you laughed off your friend’s accusation.

Esme rolled her eyes. “Don’t act naïve now, my dear friend. You are Tommy’s girl. Everyone knows it. He better be treating you right. If he doesn’t, I’ll cut his balls right off.”

“So, far so good. He has been very…I don’t know…” you began but stopped to try to collect your thoughts.

“What?” Esme asked.

“It is like there are two sides to Tommy, you know: public Tommy and private Tommy,” you began to explain. “In public, Tommy is always guarded, which I get. He has to be with what he does. However, when it is the two of us alone, he is something else. He is so sweet and gentle. He smiles more too. And laughs. Tommy has the cutest laugh I have ever heard. So delightful to the ears.”

Esme smiled at her friend and said, “I have never once heard Tommy laugh. Didn’t even know he could do such a thing.”

“So, when are you and John any closer to expanding your family? Lord knows you both like the activity that goes with procreation.”

“Not yet. But hopefully soon. The kids are looking forward to having another brother or sister in the mix. I’m lucky, you know. I was worried that John’s children wouldn’t accept when we got married. I was worried that I would never be able to live up to Martha as a wife or mother,” Esme revealed to you as the two of you finally reached the Cut.

Sitting on a box crate, Esme sat down beside you. She pulled out a rolled cannabis cigarette and began to light it. Coughing out a puff, she passed the joint over to you. “John loves you very much, Esme. The kids adore you. Why wouldn’t they? You are so much fun, so sweet, caring, and they will always have your back. Kids have pure hearts. They can sense when someone is a good person, and you fit the bill. You’re special, my dear. Everyone is lucky to grace your presence sees what a wonderful woman you are.”

Blushing, Esme looked down at her feet. “You could give John a run for his money with the way you can talk a woman up.”

You chuckled and took in a puff. The effects of the rolled cannabis were setting in and making you feel relax and calm. It was a nice feeling. The two of you sat in comfortable silence while passing the joint back and forth.

You and Esme turned heads when commotion came from Charlie’s Yard. “I wonder what is going on over there?” you wondered aloud and handed Esme the joint. “I’m going to go check it out. You want to come along?”

“Nah, I better get back to the house,” said Esme and stubbed out the joint and put it in her pocket. “See you later.”

You waved goodbye and walked over to Charlie’s. You saw him and Curly with Pyramus. Instantly, you saw the horse was agitated. You picked up your speed to reach the horse.

“Hey, what is going on? Is he okay?” you asked, concerned for Pyramus’s well-being.

Charlie told you that they were getting Pyramus ready for transport, but the horse was not up for it.

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” Curly mumbled. “He doesn’t want to leave, Charlie.”

Charlie merely sighed, “Curly, the horse will be fine. He is stubborn as usual, like his owner.”

“May I?” you asked Charlie. When he gave you an okay, you reached out to Pyramus and began rubbing his muzzle. “It’s okay, boy. You’re going to okay. Rum tum bi Salama (Go in peace),” you said to Pyramus softly. “Si tut bocklo? (Are you hungry?)”

You turned to Curly and asked he had any treats for Pyramus. “It might help him calm down. He loves apples or carrots,” you told him.

“I might have some around. I’ll be back,” said Curly and left to retrieve the treats.

You continued to pet Pyramus, which seemed to help calm him for the time being. It only got better when Curly returned with an apple, which you began to cut up for Pyramus to eat. “He seems to be more relaxed.”

All of a sudden, an extra pair of footsteps could be heard approaching. You could make out Tommy’s voice not too far, but there was another voice with him. A feminine voice. One you had not heard before. You quickly turned around to see Tommy walking with a beautiful woman. From the looks of her clothes, you could tell she was wealthy.

When Tommy saw you with Pyramus, he smiled at you and introduced you to the woman, May Carleton. She would be the one to train Pyramus. You shook her hand and offered a ‘hello.’ She went up the horse and began petting him along with you.

You told her that Pyramus tended to respond well with treats when stressed. May smiled at you. “He is a beautiful horse. Overly sweet, but he will make a good racehorse,” May remarked and turned back to Tommy. “The timeline you want the horse ready for Epsom is not much, but I can get him ready.”

You didn’t care for how May only referred to Pyramus as “the horse.” It was like she only viewed him as a job and not one of God’s best creatures. You looked over at Pyramus, and he was happily chomping away at his apple. He was too innocent for a life as a racehorse. The last thing you wanted was for Pyramus to be broken. You could feel the panic start to rise in your chest and your breath start to quicken. You didn’t know if it was anxiety or the joint you just smoked making you feel that way.

“Tommy,” you spoke up and got his attention. You motioned with your hand for him to follow, which he obliged. When the two of you were away from the others, you spoke your concerns. “How much do you know about this May Carleton? Is she trustworthy? What are her methods for training a horse?” you went on, but Tommy silenced you by placing a kiss on your lips.

When Tommy retreated, he cupped your face and looked at you with adoring eyes. “Pyramus will be taken care of, I promise. I would not send him away if I didn’t know that he would be treated well. May’s family has a long history of training racehorses. She knows what she is doing.”

You breathed a sigh of relief at Tommy’s reassurance. Now you felt silly. “I’m sorry for worrying. You probably think I’m childish,” you expressed quietly, looking down at the ground.

Tommy touched your chin to make you look at him directly. His blue eyes always left you breathless. You could drown in them if you stared too long. No amount of alcohol, cannabis, opium, or other drugs could compare to Tommy Shelby’s effects on you. He was addicting. He was handsome. He was dangerous. He was cruel. He was scary. He could also be kind and sweet-tempered. Tommy Shelby was an enigma. He would become a stain on your existence one way or another, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“Sijoukar,” you said suddenly.

When Tommy asked who, you scoffed. “May. She is pretty. Don’t you think?”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar,” you teased. “Even I can admit she is gorgeous. It’s okay. I don’t mind if you think other women are attractive. It is part of human nature.”

With a smirk, Tommy wrapped his arms around you and gave you one last deep kiss. “You better get back to work. I’ll see you late tonight, and I’ll walk you home, yeah.”

He walked you towards the exit with his hand in yours. You waved goodbye to Curly and Charlie and gave a polite nod to May. You didn’t miss the brief look of disappointment on May’s face when she saw you and Tommy walk past her hand-in-hand. You smirked when you passed the woman.

“I’ll tell you what, how about after a couple of weeks, we go visit Pyramus? See how he is doing and all. You and me, together,” suggested Tommy as you both neared the Yard’s exit.

“Really?” you asked, bewildered at Tommy’s idea.

“Why not? It would be our first adventure together. What do you say?”

“I like that idea. Oh, think of a fun and trouble we could get into. I don’t think the world is ready for us, Mr. Shelby,” you laughed and wrapped your arms around Tommy’s shoulders.

Again, kissing you on the lips, Tommy leaned into your ear to whisper, “We are going to set the world on fire, love. You and me, love.”

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 3*

Yay I’m so happy people love this!

SUMMARY: Summary: You’re an SVU detective, the entire squad is all driving to Hartford Connecticut in your car to interview a victim's family. ROAD TRIP!!!!

If you need to catch up:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Tag List: @wanniiieeee

“...So the last time you saw her was when you dropped her at school, Mrs. Fahey?” Olivia asked the distraught mother.

You and the squad had arrived at the victim’s house later than you had anticipated, sans lunch just like Rafael had predicted. You knew you should be paying attention to the interview, but your blood sugar was tanking by the minute. You tried distracting yourself by glancing at all the photos in the living room. Frames upon frames of the victim, a young 19 year old freshman to NYU, filled the room. Almost like they had made a shrine to her while she was still living. She was clearly their entire world, and now she was missing. Suddenly, all of your phones buzzed with notifications. It was a group text from Dodd’s.

“Oh no…” Amanda whispered.

“What? What happened? Did they find my Mary?” Mrs. Fahey frantically gripped Olivia’s hand.

“Ah….Mr. and Mrs. Fahey maybe we should go somewhere more private,” She replied.

“More private than my living room? You obviously all got the same news, so you might as well tell us here,” Mr. Fahey abruptly said.

“They...did find Mary,” Olivia simply stated. The Fahey's faces lit up for a moment, but then Olivia finished her sentence.

“....Her body was floating in the Hudson.”

That was it. You didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from getting up early and driving, or the fact that you hadn’t eaten more than a stick of gum since last night, but you felt sick to your stomach and your emotions were taking over. You stood up and tried discreetly walking out into the hall from the living room. You thought for half a second to ask where the Fahey’s bathroom was, but clearly now was not the time for that. You could find it yourself; you hoped.

Meanwhile, Barba had noticed you walking out, clearly in distress. His concerned look caught Amanda’s attention, who had also seen you leave. She shrugged at Barba, causing him to ask in a whisper:

“Should I go check on her?”

“Well you clearly want to, so yeah sure,” she whispered back.

“Rollins! She’s your partner!” he hissed.

“Something tells me she’d rather see you,” Amanda smirked.

What was that? Was it obvious he liked you? Was it obvious you liked him? There was no time to dwell on that drama, he was genuinely concerned about you.

He followed your exit out into the hallway, but you had vanished. He cautiously crept down the hallway until he saw a light under a door. As he approached it, he could hear soft sobs coming from the other side.

“....Y/N?”

Your head snapped up from staring at the floor, crying into your knees next to the bathtub. Shit, you had really tried to be discreet. Why did he follow you? This was totally unprofessional, you were sure of it. You stood up and tried wiping the smeared mascara and eyeliner from your teary eyes, but damn you and your love of the smoky eye! You looked like a drowned raccoon; This was a nightmare.

“I-I’m fine!” You called through the door, praying he’d walk away and he wouldn’t have to see your impression of the girl from THE RING.

“...You sure? I heard crying…”

Well, he sure wasn’t subtle, just a “state the facts” kinda guy. You kinda loved that about him, since you were the same way. And if you were being honest with yourself, the fact that he actually came to check on you made your stomach quiver. Okay, something lower quiver.

“Yeah I….stubbed my toe on the tub,” You called through the door, making a “What the fuck was that” face.

“....Yeah I doubt that. Come on just open the door, por favor,”

Oh God. When he used spanish, your knees went weak. Even if it was just a phrase you’d hear on a Rosetta Stone.

“Damn you,” You muttered, but complied with his request. The door peeked open just the tiniest bit so he could see your Picasso painting of a face.

“Oh my god, what happened to your face?!” He asked in a louder tone that caused you to freak out and pull him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

“Did you skip sensitivity training in law school or what?” You half laughed with a sniffle; it actually felt good. It might have been just the thing to knock back you to reality.

“I’m sorry, I’m not so good with the...subtle,” He apologized with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah I got that; it’s fine. Neither am I,” You assured him with a soft punch on the shoulder.

“Ok but seriously what happened to your face, you look like La Llorna,” He chuckled, putting his hands on your face and attempting to wipe off the layers of black lining your eyelids.

“Again, so comforting,” You rolled your eyes as he picked up a washcloth next to the sink and wet it to help the situation.

“You’re deflecting, detective,” he raised an eyebrow as he put the washcloth to your eye. His gentle touch and the warm feel of the washcloth suddenly did actually feel extremely comforting.

“I...I’m just tired,” you lied. Well, in a way it was true.

Rafael’s eyebrow remained raised; that’s exactly what he had said earlier, instead of telling you how he really felt. He was sure you were doing it now.

“Being tired makes you burst into tears?”

“You’ve never been so tired you wanted to cry? Not even in law school?” it was your turn to raise your eyebrow.

“Alright, maybe ONCE in law school....but I waited until I was in the privacy of my own dorm,” He chuckled, you rolled your eyes.

“So…?”

“I just…..” you took a long, hard pause letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Were you seriously going to do this now? This of all times, of all people, Rafael Barba? Two hours ago you were convinced he hated you, and had probably spoken a total of two sentences in your career at SVU. But at the same time, for whatever reason, you felt completely safe with him. You took another deep breath in and finally spoke:

“It’s just...this girl; Mary. She was just a young girl, she had everything going for her! She was beautiful, smart, obviously worshipped by her parents by that shrine out there,” you gestured towards where you both had just come from.

“And...and she makes ONE bad decision, one. One moment of wanting to be accepted by the ‘cool kids’ at school by going to a frat party, and it….” you felt a sob catch in your throat.

“...It cost her her life,” you whispered softly.

“Ay….carino, come here,” Rafael sighed and pulled you into his arms, stroking your hair. You both just stayed like that for what felt like forever, but instantaneously you both realized this had gotten insanely intimate for two co workers who barely knew each other. He dropped his arms and cleared his throat, you quickly began running your fingers through your hair as you turned to face the mirror, away from his gaze. God, please. Be more awkward.

“I didn’t want to start losing it out there in front of her parents, they literally just lost their most prized possession. This can’t be about me,” You sighed as you turned back to face him.

“It’s stupid...I’m stupid. I shouldn’t let shit like this get to me, it’s totally unprofessional I know,”

“...No it’s not, it’s fine, You’re human,” He assured you, putting a thumb under your chin making you look into his deep green eyes

“Barba? Y/N? Did you get locked in there?”

Sonny’s voice knocked you both from each other’s stare, your faces both turning red. Rafael threw the door open and let you exit in front of him.

“I got sick, Rafael held my hair,” you quickly blurted out, both men’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh. Well, um….Mr. Barba is quite the gentleman,” He looked at Barba trying to hide a disgusted face; thinking about vomit made him queasy. “You ok now?”

“Yeah! Fine, hungry actually,” You half smiled as they followed you to the front door where the others were waiting,

“I’m so, so sorry again Mr. and Mrs. Fahey,” Olivia held Mrs. Fahey’s hand. “You take as long as you need to before coming to the city to…”

“Identify our daughter’s body, detective. No use pussyfooting around it.” Mr. Fahey was blunt once again.

“Right,” Olivia nodded.

“I’ll take the morning off tomorrow, we’ll be by then,” he replied gruffly.

“Okay. Whenever. No Rush,” Olivia waved one last time as the door closed. You all walked silently to the car, you broke it with a deep sigh.

“....Does that ever get any easier?” You asked, looking at each face of the members of your squad.

“Honestly? If you're a good cop, no.” Fin replied.

“The day you stop caring is the day you should quit.” Sonny added.

“God I’m starving, can we please get food? And drinks?” Amanda whined.

“Well, I sure could use a drink! Or five,” you laughed.

“That’s another thing to watch out for, rookie,” Fin paused, taking your shoulder.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t drown your problems in a bottle, That can go downhill real fast,” Fin warned.

“That’s why it’s super important to have a squad you can trust. That you can talk to,” Olivia came up and put her hand on your other shoulder.

“Well, so far so good,” you half smiled.

“Seriously guys, can we get some food? Barba’s starting to look like a rotisserie chicken right now,” Sonny licked his lips.

“Alright alright Carisi, get in the car ya five year old,” Fin punched him in the arm.

As you went to the driver’s side of the car, Rafael stopped next to you.

“Do you want me to drive?” He offered. You usually never let anyone touch your baby, but you literally felt as if you could pass out just standing there.

“Please,” You smiled, tossing him your keys.

You got in your passenger’s seat and closed your eyes, finally relaxing for the first time since you left the City.

What awaited you on the other side of your nap?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #Raul Esparza #build me up buttercup

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whimperwoods · 3 years

Text

Part 5 of Gozukk and Anna

First part is here. Second part is here. Third part is here. Fourth part is here.

I think I got everybody who asked to be on the tag list but lmk if I missed you and I’ll add you! I want to say thankful gratitude words here because of the support I’ve gotten on this one but I’m stressed out and can’t find them? Anyway, here are some Thanks and some Gratitude.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past abuse, tw: restricted eating behaviors, tw: past withholding of food

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Gozukk knew when to leave well enough alone, but he mostly knew it because having Djaana for a sister had taught him the hard way more than enough times. Even so, it was difficult going about his day with the image of the half-elf woman’s wide, frightened eyes stuck in his mind.

Anna, her name was, apparently, and Djaana had faithfully reported back to him about her injuries and left him quaking with anger, standing helplessly beside his own tent while she went back to her own and rejoined the group of laughing, talking women mending clothes. Djaana had told him the woman would calm down in her own time, as if he hadn’t known that already, and he’d taken it as a tacit instruction to stay away from her for a while and not try to help.

It didn’t make it any easier to do.

He wasn’t out with the scouts and he couldn’t take out a hunting party just now and he needed something to do with his hands. More than with his hands. He needed full-body work, something to keep him distracted and let him get out the frustration of not having a way to fix things, just yet.

There was so much that needed doing, but he couldn’t stand still to work out a good list of priorities, not like he wanted to, so he settled for the first thing his mind hit on that seemed physical enough and collected rugs from the midwife’s and healer’s tents, hanging them from a line and beating the dust out of them so that they would be clean if anyone came back injured and needed help.

Mazogga looked at him like she knew exactly what she was up to, and maybe she did. She’d delivered him when he was born, and he remembered being a child and being sure she could see right through him, him and everybody else. She let him take her rugs, though, and she asked after the half-elf girl without pressing too hard, and the clouds of fine dust he could beat out of her rug were calming, somehow. She wasn’t as strong as she’d once been and the rug had been swept plenty, but the full strength of his arms drove more free than he thought she could manage and made him feel useful.

Before he gave in to the urge to check on his guest, he returned everything to its proper place and gathered up something for her to eat. She was too thin, but he wasn’t sure whether that meant she needed more food or gentler food, just now. He settled for dried fruit, bread, and some of the yogurt from the herd’s milk. Then, after a moment’s pause, he retrieved a small piece of honey comb, harder to come by, but good if the woman wasn’t used to anything so tart.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the tent.

The woman was kneeling with her head down, just as she’d been when the humans pushed her down in front of him, but at least this time, surrounded by cushions and soft lantern light, she looked a little bit more relaxed. Maybe. He hoped.

“Hello,” he said, his voice as gentle as he could keep it without falling into the tone one used with babies and toddlers and not grown women, “I’ve realized I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Gozukk. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

Anna looked up, the bruises on her face a little bit less obvious in the lantern light than they’d been in the full sun, but still clearly visible around her eyes. She looked startled and afraid, but at least this time she kept breathing normally, ducking her head back down but keeping together much better than she had the first time.

“Thank you, Master,” she said softly. Then, hesitantly, she added, “I’m -” she bit her lip, “not sure . . . what I’ve done to earn it yet.” Her voice faded nearly to a whisper and her eyes closed tight, flinching away prematurely.

Gozukk’s gut tightened, but he kept his face even as he moved to sit beside her, not too close, with the food laid out between them. Anna was trembling faintly, but her breathing was steady, and he needed to keep it that way.

“Look at me,” he ordered, nearly at a whisper himself.

She obeyed immediately, wide brown-green eyes meeting his own deeper brown ones.

He reached over and cupped her cheek in one hand. “I understand why you don’t believe me. But you are safe here. I will not ask anything of you that you do not volunteer to give, yourself.

Her hands had come up instinctively, suspended in the air, halfway to his arm, not willing to touch him, but ready to fight him off, and he let go of her face to let her look down again if she wanted to. Instead, those striking eyes searched his face, and he suddenly had no idea what she saw in it. He was thinking too hard about his own face and it had become a mystery.

When her eyes flicked downward again it was almost a relief. “I - I don’t understand why you traded for me, then.” She licked her lips like her mouth was dry, looking pained. “I heard your agreement, and I know the stones he gave you aren’t worth . . . enough.” She paused again, her voice sounding suddenly scratchy and dull. “I . . . know what I am. Sir. I don’t need you to pretend. I’ll be good.”

By the end, every phrase sounded painful, like she was forcing it out of her body, air from a bellows.

He didn’t have an answer for that. He couldn’t have an answer for that without standing up and pacing, moving until he could think again, and there was no way that wouldn’t frighten Anna. He was angry, angry deep, down to his soul, but not at her. He took a breath to steady himself and rose to his feet. “I forgot to bring you something to drink. I’ll be back.”

He gestured toward the plate, “That’s for you. Eat whatever looks best.”

He took the long way around the camp to fetch water, and then collected some soft cheese, and a handful of nuts, and his thoughts.

When he returned, a few of the dried fruits were gone and Anna looked guilty, though whether she felt bad for having eaten or not having eaten, he couldn’t say.

“You don’t have to eat everything,” he said, still careful with his voice, careful with his volume and his tone, careful not to sound angry, not to sound pitying, not to sound as if he thought she were an infant, and he realized he was holding tension in his shoulders. “Just know that it’s here to be yours. I want you to have what you need.”

He put the cheese and nuts on her plate and set down the water skin, then busied himself getting a brazier set up, its coals lit, and a fired clay pot heating for tea. The motion was good. Helpful. It kept him from having to talk or keep silent, helped his brain keep working even as the woman a few feet away from him continued to fill him with an exhausting mix of anxiety and rage.

She ate another few pieces of fruit hesitantly, half watching him through her eyelids, and he kept his eyes on his hands, kept his mind on lighting fire, pouring water, measuring tea, so that he wouldn’t have to decide what he wanted her to see as she looked at him. It was better that way. Trying to decide was too complicated, and too confusing.

By the time the tea was ready, her fingers had flicked toward the bread, but then she’d stopped herself, reached for the nuts instead, a little at a time, as if expecting to be cut off or to have her hand slapped away. Little pieces, then. He catalogued that away for the future. Little pieces, he could manage.

“Be careful,” he said, holding a cup of tea out toward her, “It’s hot.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face for just a moment as she took the cup, and whatever she saw seemed to reassure her, because she pulled the cup in toward her chest, held it awkwardly close, but did not refuse it or put it down.

He lifted his own cup, blowing on the liquid and then taking a sip to prove it was alright.

“Hmmk,” he grunted, “Nope. Still too hot. Give yours a minute.”

For a moment, he could almost swear he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips, but then it was gone again, the anxious wrinkle between her eyes all that was left behind.

Hesitantly, she reached for the cheese, eating it in slightly larger bites than he had expected. Another thing to file away for later. Cheese.

He blew on his tea again, but there was only so much he could do now that he didn’t have a task with his hands. He should have made coffee, instead, but he hadn’t known if she would like it. Or perhaps he shouldn’t have. Either way, his hands were unoccupied again and he hated it.

“Djaana, the woman who was here to look after your wounds, is my sister. She told me your back’s in pretty bad shape. I have some salves for treating battle wounds that you’re welcome to use if you need them.”

Her eyes flicked upward toward him again, glancing through her eyelashes and the steam from her cup.

He held out a hand. “I notice she didn’t bandage your wrists. Do you mind if I take a look? Just while the tea is cooling.”

Anna’s arms twitched instinctively closer to her chest and he started to withdraw his hand, but then her fingers clenched around the cup in her hand and she spoke up, stopping him. “I - I think it’s a good idea. But perhaps . . . perhaps after? I-” she ducked her head down farther. “I am hungry.”

He wanted to reach out and pat her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, anything to prove he was happy to hear it, but he kept his hands to himself and just smiled, instead. “Of course. There’s a good chance the scouts will come home with meat when they’re finished looking over the humans’ tracks. Until then, I can bring you more of anything that’s helping. We’ve got enough.”

She blushed. “Oh, Sir, I didn’t mean - I couldn’t possibly. This is - this is enough.”

She let go of the cup with one hand and grabbed for the bread before she could think herself out of it again, taking a bite quickly and then closing her eyes again, though this time he couldn’t read why in her face.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “Just as well. I’ll get the salve from the other room.”

Moving away didn’t feel quite as essential this time, and Anna seemed to shrink away less as he walked past her. Progress, if slight. He took deep breaths and let himself calm down into it. They were making progress. Things were going to be alright. Right?

He rearranged his medicine kit as he drank his tea, re-rolling bandages and sorting them by length, his hands moving and his eyes focused on his task so Anna wouldn’t feel like he was watching her eat, even as he kept half an eye on the plate of food and her fingers dancing across it, choosing, hesitating, and taking.

When they were both finished, he held his hand out again. “Your wrists?”

He expected her to avert her eyes again, to refuse to watch, but this time she held an arm out tentatively toward him with her head up, her eyes searching his face. Her arm shook, but not with the same full terror as before.

It was the arm he’d examined earlier, but this time she was watching him look at it, and he felt himself blushing slightly this time, his turn to feel watched. He wanted to get a better look at the welts this time, but he needed to make the most of her trust while he had it.

He pulled a small container of ointment from his medicine kit, one he knew was soothing on shallowly broken skin, and smoothed it over the rope burns, covering it with a thin layer of bandages he secured carefully. “Too tight?” he asked.

She shook her head no, her eyes still on him, openly watching him for the first time.

Moving on instinct, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, and this time when she looked down, it was more down than away and the ghost of a smile hovered longer, verifiable in spite of how fast it vanished again.

He got up and moved to her other side so that she wouldn’t have to hold her arm out across her body, where it might feel less under her own control. This time, he took her arm gently without asking first, waiting for her to look at him and meeting her eyes instead.

The welts on her right arm were worse, half of them scabbed over where she had been cut.

“I’ll need to wash and bandage all of this. I hate to think what your back feels like, if Djaana didn’t notice these.”

Anna looked down again. “I - think she did. I was - I’m -” she swallowed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut. “Will you tell her thank you, from me? I - I think I did, but I can’t remember.”

Gozukk smiled. “I’m sure you did. She said you were very polite.”

Anna’s arm was still in his hand, and he became very aware of the contact as she started blushing again.

He squeezed her hand and got up again to make sure he had clean water and a cloth.

The slight flinches under his touch as he trailed the damp cloth over her scraped wrist and battered arm came only when his hand crossed one of her wounds, and not from the touch itself, and when everything was clean and ointmented and bandaged, he gave into another impulse, kissing her palm this time before he let her hand go.

“There,” he said, “all set.”

The arm he’d bandaged first was tucked up against Anna’s stomach, but the second arm didn’t immediately join it, resting farther out, closer to him, and he suddenly needed to leave. He couldn’t possibly be measuring trust in quarter inches. He couldn’t. He couldn’t live like that. Could he?

“Djaana or I will let you know when the scouting party returns or it’s time to eat again. For now, you still look like you could use some rest. The blankets in the other room are yours to use if you need them.”

Leaving the tent was not running away. It was giving Anna some space. Wasn’t it? There were things that needed repairing, now that he had the time for a real project. One of the wagons had seemed to be riding unevenly last week, so surely that needed looking after. He almost turned back toward the tent, but instead, he kept moving forward.

#whump #hurt/comfort #fantasy whump #d&d whump #slavery whump #post-slavery whump #slavery tw #past slavery tw #past abuse tw #restricted eating tw #withholding of food tw #(implied)#idk y'all i feel like this came across as maybe romance adjacent??#to be fully clear gozzuk is just a tactile tactile boy who wants to ruffle his nephew's hair and hug sad people and he has to help anna #without touching her?? how do?? cannot shove in the shoulder or cuddle aggressively??#not saying romance would never ever be possible but gosh not now

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damienthepious · 3 years

Text

oh it’s that lizard KISSIN' tuesday!!!!

your sweet lips on my lips

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Sir Damien, Lord Arum, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, (and i mean KISSIN), Established Relationship, Early Relationship, Kissing, Biting

Summary: Very early in their actual relationship, Rilla decides they really should figure out that whole kissing thing.

Notes: RIGHT ON HIS SCALY MOUTH!!!!!! LIZARD KISSIN', BABY!!!!!! back to my fucking roots for the (patron) finale day, and with a hozier lyric title, no less! OLD SCHOOL. Sorry i'm a little whacked out today. Bless loveyou bless. Oh right title from Like Real People Do. you knowwww.

Rilla perches on the very edge of her cushion, her knees folded beneath her, her eyes gleaming, and Damien, sitting across from her, beside Arum, struggles for a moment not to feel like a pinned specimen of moth-

And then he thinks better of it. She looks as if she might actually begin to take notes. The feeling is justified, he muses.

"Okay," she says. "Alright. Go on, then."

Damien nearly laughs despite the heat rising to his cheeks, and he manages to meet Rilla's hungry eyes for a moment before he needs to glance away and bite his lip. "Are you- are you certain that you would not like to- to- to join us, instead?"

"Oh," she laughs, "oh don't you worry about me, I'm still trying to work out best approaches. You, my brave Sir Poet, decided to just jump in, so I wanna see how you two work before I try anything myself." She pauses, raises an eyebrow at Arum. "If that's okay? I don't want to actually make you uncomfortable, if-"

"Oh, please, takatakataka," the monster grumbles. "You were watching the first time we-" he hesitates, his frill twitching enough to make a shivering noise of scales at his neck. "You were watching before," he corrects in a hiss, rolling his eyes unconvincingly, "I would hardly think your observation would be any cause for discomfort. Nevermind that I-"

He pauses again, for quite a bit longer, and when his throat begins to rumble with a worried sort of growl Damien reaches out, tentatively touching Arum's elbow. The monster glances up, then, his brow furrowed for a moment before his expression softens.

"I... I want the both of you here. Obviously. If it pleases you to watch-" he pauses again, as heat rushes to Damien's cheeks at his particular choice of phrasing, "... then I have no desire to stop you."

Rilla grins, both fond and predatory, and then she nods. "Good to know. So, get to it, will you?"

Arum scoffs, his frill half-rising around his face, and Damien bites his lip hard and drops his eyes, feeling nearly stunned with shyness, and then the lizard-

Arum glances towards him, nerves clear on his face, and then some determination slips into his expression instead, and he reaches out three hands, one to grip the front of Damien's shirt, two to cup his face, and then Arum sways closer.

"Well?" he murmurs as Damien gasps, gripping Arum's sides instinctively. "You wouldn't dare leave the little doctor waiting, would you?"

Damien manages a laugh, pinned by violet attention, feeling Rilla's gaze upon them as well, and then he tilts his head a little closer. "No, no... nor yourself, Lord Arum. I wouldn't dream of it."

He leans up, and his lips buzz with electricity as he brushes them gentle over Arum's thin mouth, the texture of his scales so utterly alluring, unfamiliar, fascinating. The monster inhales a sharp breath, whirring at the back of his throat just as he had done the first time Damien had gone up on his toes to kiss him. Damien reaches to brush his knuckles down the scales of Arum's frill experimentally, and Arum gasps again, that ticking rumble going louder.

Damien presses closer, moving his hand to cup the monster's cheek, humming against Arum's mouth, and then when he pulls back away to check Arum's face the monster sighs gently, his mouth curling into a smile.

Oh, my heart, Damien thinks, and then, so beautiful a creature, so sweet to let me-

He turns his head enough to catch Rilla's eyes, pleasure stinging deep in his stomach at the flushed, attentive look on her face.

"Are we providing sufficient data for you to work with, my darling flower?" he asks in a murmur, and Arum chuckles and tucks his face closer against Damien's neck- lazily hiding from Rilla's eyes, Damien realizes, with his frill flaring higher.

"I'm getting some pretty good ideas, I think," she says. Her expression is smug, still, but Damien knows her well enough to hear the subtle waver in her voice, to see the way she clenches her hands. "I'll show you all of them when it's my turn."

Damien laughs, and Arum peers around to give Rilla a fond sort of glare.

"You," he says flatly, "are a terrible influence."

"Saints I hope so," Rilla breathes, and Damien takes advantage of Arum's position to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Arum hisses again, turning his attention back towards Damien and exhaling through clenched teeth as if holding himself back before he leans a little closer, allowing Damien to kiss him again, cupping his face with tender care.

"Mm, all sorts of good ideas," Rilla says, her tone wavering just the littlest bit more noticeably. "And that- that works for you, then, Arum? That feels… good?"

Arum pants a breath, something between a hiss and a laugh, and then shoots Rilla a look. "It is... it is certainly something. Ridiculous, but- but not- not disagreeable. Probably a better idea than what I would like to do, anyway-"

Her eyes flash, bright with curiosity, and Arum stops and swallows at the force of her attention.

"What... what would you prefer to do, Lord Arum?" Damien asks quietly, a little abashed that perhaps the kissing had not been as pleasant to the monster as he had hoped, as pleasant as it was for Damien himself, and Arum's eyes flick back to meet his own.

"Don't," he says gently, and then he nudges his snout into Damien's lips again. When Damien sinks into the kiss, drawing his hand down Arum's neck, the lizard whirs at the back of his mouth, a whispery pleased noise, and when Damien pulls back Arum nudges his snout into Damien's cheek instead. "I only meant that- damn you for being so unutterably tempting, honeysuckle. I can hardly match your lips with mine as Amaryllis could-"

"I really don't think that matters all that much," Rilla interrupts wryly, though Damien can hear the edge of tension and delight tinging her voice brighter. "From what I can see, at least."

"I only want to... to make you feel as you make me feel," Damien says, and he knows his voice has gone a little keening despite himself as Arum tucks his face against his neck again.

"I want-" Arum inhales, exhales, growls at himself. "This close, I- your taste makes me want to bite you, honeysuckle," Arum says in a rush, and Damien can feel Arum's teeth tickle at his throat as the monster speaks. "Not- not that I-"

Damien does not think he has ever before wanted to be bitten quite so desperately.

"I don't want you to think that I- that I want to- to hurt-"

Damien tilts his head to the side, resisting the urge to actually press his neck into Arum's mouth, whispers please with little enough breath that he is uncertain if Arum can hear him, but-

But after a heartbeat Arum growls low, helpless, and nips quick and light at the crook of Damien's neck, and then he flicks his tongue out and tickles the same spot. Damien gasps, squeaks a laugh at the contact, and then Arum presses his teeth to Damien's skin again. The second bite is somewhat harder, and Damien cannot help but whine outright.

Arum exhales a panting breath against Damien's neck, then lifts his face to meet Damien's eyes again.

Whatever he finds there, the monster must be pleased with it. He smiles (Damien's heart skips, Damien could float in the air, Damien wants to see every single gentle expression this monster hides beneath frown and scowl), and then he presses his mouth to Damien's again, soft and quick and sweet.

Arum glances towards Rilla, then, and when he breathes a smug laugh Damien follows his gaze.

Rilla's expression has gone hazy, one hand fisted in front of her mouth, her lower lip pulled between her teeth, and Damien laughs as well.

"Shall we continue, love?" Damien murmurs, drawing a hand down Arum's cheek, tracing a line down his throat and watching the way that Rilla's eyes follow the motion. "Is further demonstration in order?"

She stares for another moment, and then blinks. "Wh-what? Sorry. What?"

Arum barks another laugh, surprised and fond, and Damien presses his own lips together tight and clings to Arum's shoulders to stop himself from following along with the monster as Rilla shakes her head and scowls, and then she starts to crawl closer.

"Okay," Rilla says, all bossy bluster. "Okay! I think that's enough notes! I've gathered a lot of important data and the first conclusion I've come to is- okay stop laughing come here my turn-"

She grips Arum's shoulder firm in one hand, kneeling above him and tilting his chin up with the other as she crowds close to kiss him without further preamble, and-

Damien laughs again, despite her words. If the way that Arum shivers and melts into Rilla's kiss is any indication, Damien supposes that the demonstration was rather instructive, in fact.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #lizard kissin' tuesday #rad bouquet #sir damien #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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thisonesatellite · 3 years

Text

the last run (1/1)

This is for my lovely @ohmightydevviepuu, the slayer of plot boa constrictors, intrepid wanderer of canon divergence paths, the haver of thoughts, empress of opinion, goddess of the canon phrase, vocal lover of S3 canon divergence, purveryor of no-curse renaissances, servant to Princess Peach and her minions---- and my incredible, wonderful friend.

Honey, this is for you, to brighten your day.

i love you. 💖💖💖

SUMMARY: One morning Emma gets ready to sneak off the Jolly, only to find that she cannot bring herself to leave.

Three cups of S3 canon divergence, one cup of introspection, one cup of softness, and a dash of frustration.

Hold all curses.

Simmer and stir until a decision is reached. 😁

AO3

i am using the regular tag list, i hope that’s OK.

@mariakov81 @stahlop @thejollyroger-writer @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @toomanyfandomstochoosefrom @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @mayquita @ohmightydevviepuu @sals86 @karenfrommisthaven @kmomof4 @kday426 @superchocovian @jennjenn615 @facesiousbutton82 @suwya @spartanguard @capnjay21 @shardminds @carpedzem @girl-in-a-tiny-box @ilovemesomekillianjones @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @teamhook @katie-dub @shireness-says @qualitycoffeethings @cluttermind @fragilebeautifulchaos @optomisticgirl @klynn-stormz @winterbaby89 @ethereal-madnesss @scientificapricot @fragilebeautifulchaos @anxioussquirrel @profdanglaisstuff

THE LAST RUN

She is so tired.

She wakes up and it’s like trying to move concrete, getting her body to respond to any kind of signal. Dawn is barely breaking, a sliver of light through a tiny window, and her limbs are too heavy for daylight, too heavy to move, especially here, now, when she’s so warm and comfortable and---

She doesn’t finish the sentence, can’t finish it, not even in the vault of secrecy and denial that is the privacy of her own head. Not even here, in his bed, with its sheets that smell faintly of hard soap and salt, not with his arm heavy around her middle, and especially not with his warm body pressed against the length of hers, soft puffs of breath tickling the back of her neck.

But she has to get up.

It’s time.

Dawn waits for no one. If only she weren’t so tired.

She slowly slides out from underneath his arm, his body, his warmth, slides out from underneath the blankets and away from those soft tickling breaths, and while her feet find the floorboards and she slowly stands up she knows she has never ever been so cold. It’s a miracle she doesn’t freeze where she stands. She remembers a freeway overpass she once hid under, on one of the many, many times she tried to run, watching a clear November dawn come up so cold she thought she’d never be able to move again, and yet----

This is worse.

Today she feels cold because she’s standing here, in the gently rocking captain’s quarters of his ship, not three feet away from his sleeping body, and she already misses him.

She looks at him, dark hair sticking up, breaths deep and even. He looks peaceful.

Only a few hours ago he looked hungry, tongue running over his lips as he ran his hook up her side, cold metal across her warm skin and desire in his eyes, desire and longing and that sadness he never manages to hide, no matter how hard he tries.

No matter how wide, how honest his smiles.

Emma shudders.

She puts on her clothes with a minimum of noise and quietly climbs the ladder up onto the deck. Away from the man sleeping in that bed behind her.

Away.

She tiptoes across the polished wooden boards, always scrubbed clean, past neatly lined-up crates and perfectly tied-off rigging, but when she gets to the gangplank, she finds she--- can’t.

She can’t leave the ship.

On the other side of this slip and this gangplank and this pier is a town full of people who have Opinions on how she should live her life, and she is so. Tired.

So tired of her son’s father sweeping in like a Monday morning quarterback, like he never abandoned her to feel kicks inside while staring at 50 square feet of concrete and a toilet in the corner. Like he’s entitled to a piece of her life, like she owes him a share of her future.

So tired of her parents thinking blood is thicker than water, as if the idea of a family was built on logic, on sense . Emma knows for a fact that blood doesn’t mean a damn thing, that the only family that counts is the one you choose.

So tired of sneaking around, of hands brushing by carefully constructed accident, of longing, sad glances, late-night excursions, of tiptoeing through the streets of this town just to get to this ship, to this bed, to him , warm and comfortable and wonderful and---

No. She can’t leave this ship.

She walks up to the bow, sprit pointed at the open sea past the harbour, and listens to the seagulls, the wind, and the waves lapping gently against resin and paint, and thinks of his smile, the way his face shines every time she comes down the ladder, like he’s been waiting for her all of his life.

And maybe it’s true.

She certainly has, and she knows it.

Knows he is the answer to a question she has never yet dared to ask, knows that he is safe, safe for her , that he would be careful with her heart.

That he is careful with her heart.

Knows that she wants to give him more than these bits and pieces, these stolen moments, this stringing him along, and she suddenly feels it, anger and rage, rage , at these people beyond the gangplank who are making her choose---

choose what they would have chosen

choose what they think she should choose

she should want

how dare they

For a moment she can’t feel and can’t hear and can’t breathe because the rage burns so hot inside her it colors her world red, but then a pair of arms wraps around her.

“Love,” he says. “Are you still here?”

She nods, feels his lips, soft on the back of her neck, and says, “Can we sail away?”

His arms tighten around her. Warmth starts to seep back into her cold leaden bones.

“Where to?” His voice is gentle, unassuming.

It does not have an opinion on how she should live her life.

On what decisions she should make, or how she should live, just asks, where do you want to go? and waits for the answer.

“Anywhere,” she says. “Anywhere that is not here.”

Again his arms tighten, again she feels his lips, soft and so, so careful, against her neck, her pulse point, her collar, and then he says quietly, “Don’t you think it’s time to stop running?”

And her breath stops.

This is why she is tired. All she ever does is run.

She turns around.

Looks at his smile, soft and so fond, as he pulls her in, warm and comfortable and wonderful--

and safe.

And loved.

She puts her head against his chest so he won’t see the tears spring to her eyes, because he asked are you still here? with that note of longing, of sadness, of hope, of hope ---

because he’s waiting for her, still, always, forever, waiting for her to be honest and brave and what fucking use is a savior who cannot muster the courage to do the one thing that matters?

No.

She closes her eyes and lets his warmth flood her limbs, takes a deep breath and looks up.

“I couldn’t leave your ship,” she says. “Earlier. I was trying to leave, get back to my place before anyone sees me, and I couldn’t leave.”

He looks at her, blue eyes full of question, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Because I don’t want to leave,” she says. “I don’t---”

She doesn’t know how to say it, bites her lip instead. His hand comes up, rubs his thumb across her chin.

“Stop it,” he says softly, and she relaxes her bite as he leans down to kiss her.

It’s so right, tears again flood her eyes.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers. “I’m so tired of everybody telling me what to do and how to feel, when all I want is to be here. With you.”

He looks at her like he cannot believe it, won’t let himself fall, and she tries to smile.

And then shakes her head.

What good is a savior.

“I want no part of their plan,” she says. “And I’m done listening to them. I’m done sneaking around. I want---” she swallows hard and he’s just looking at her, still as a statue, not even breathing.

She takes his hand, folds her fingers through his, pulls it up between them.

“This,” she says, kissing their intertwined fingers. “This is what I want. This.”

He’s still not breathing, not moving, not blinking.

And she brushes her lips past his and adds, “You.”

His smile when it comes is the most beautiful thing Emma has ever seen, and she leans up to kiss him because it’s time,

because after all is said and done she belongs here, with him.

Beyond the gangplank is Storybrooke, with monsters and magic and complications, there are conversations lying in wait, with Neal, with her parents, with those who want A Certain Kind of Savior; but she is still on this ship, now, and she looks up at him, still smiling and so, so happy.

“Take me downstairs,” she says.

Because dawn waits for no one, but neither does she.

Not anymore.

. .

#cs ficlet #cs fic rec #the last run #thisonesatellite #a gift for devra #because i love her #s3 canon divergence #NO CURSE RENAISSANCE #a bit of introspection #and a bit of softness #with a happy end

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